She fills with happiness at these words, the ones she’s been waiting for. She feels silly for the disappointment she felt earlier. She should know Matthew by now. He always picks his time to roll out a deserved compliment for maximum effect. His eyes are shining and he is still smiling at her in an enquiring way, as if she is an artefact that has caught his eye. She wonders whether she’s closer to being more like Emilia, more alluring to him, and in the same thought, the possibility repulses her. Instinctively she takes hold of her own wrist.

‘What would you have tabled otherwise? To convince Emilia? Just out of interest?’ Matthew’s question is so professional that she is torn violently out of her magical, ridiculous thinking.

‘She did a fundraiser for a women’s refuge back when she was a teenager. Her mum was disowned by her family when Emilia was a baby. The father ran off with another woman and left them with nothing. She’s talked about it in a few interviews. I was going to go for a take on Medea as someone who gives love, gives birth, honours her family, and then gets left, disowned, betrayed. Despite having done nothing but try her hardest, men blame and punish her. That was going to be my thing. Try and make it personal.’

‘No, I get it.’

‘You can’t just launch in with all that over an Americano though, can you?’

Matthew laughs. ‘Not a bad Plan B though.’ They grin at each other. Thoughts of being alluring now firmly shelved, she likes that she and Matthew are in on this together, side by side, players on the same team. If nothing else, she is on her way to feeling like she is someone interesting.

Good news travels fast but rumours fly faster here, where knowing things is the one currency everyone understands and values.

Sit somewhere visible, Matthew has told her, and watch them come to you. That’s when you know. Bringing her in on his secrets now.

So she sits outside a café, sheltered from the sun by a canopy, blue and branded with the insignia of a well-known champagne – drinking black coffee and making notes on the script, anxiously checking her email for a confirmed time and place for Sharon and Emilia to get together. She waits for people to find her and, as Matthew predicted, they do. Two financiers and an actress stop to chat. Can I read a script? When does casting start? I hear good things. I hear you have the hot project.

Emilia emails her in person. Their schedules don’t work in the next two days, though Sam and Mads – Sharon’s agent – have bent themselves in half trying to make it happen, so Emilia’s proposing flying to London before she goes home. Cake in Soho? The three of them?

The three of them!