She gets to her feet and, before she can stop herself, the panic overwhelms her completely, driving her out of the bar – without a thank you or goodbye or sorry or excuse me. Shame runs cold in her blood at the thought of what people will surely be saying about her now and in the morning: that fledgling producer who doesn’t know how to control her appetite for alcohol, so drunk, probably got carried with it all, quite embarrassing for the poor girl. Bless.

She runs down to the seashore where lights are bouncing off the water now, where glasses are being clinked for dinner and charcoal burnt to fire orange for fish and meat. She finds a place far from the people and the laughing and the eating. Searches for her phone, knowing she must call him first. He will guide her along the maze as she walks through it, step by step, hoping not to lose her way forever. She dials his number.

Adam answers her call sounding relaxed, but—

‘Adam? Adam? Is Maisie OK?’ she says.

‘What do you mean?’

‘Was she OK when she got back from school? After the sleepover. Did she seem herself?’ She is wiping the tears roughly from her cheeks with the pads of her fingers.

‘She was happy,’ he says, his words kind, soft. He knows where she is. ‘She had a great time. She’s in the living room now doing her coursework … You sound …’

‘I did it again,’ she says.

‘What do you mean?’

‘I let myself relax and … I drank. I drank alcohol.’

‘Hey, that’s OK. It’s OK to drink, you know it is.’ He pauses. ‘What actually happened? How drunk are you?’ His voice splits with a new, contained panic. ‘Talk to me.’

‘No, nothing bad’s happened. I just couldn’t cope. I had a few drinks, I shouldn’t have drunk, I can’t do it, I just thought … the most basic thing just set me off. Someone reaching for their drink across me. I looked crazy.’ She begins to cry.

‘It’s OK.’ His voice is calm, full of relief, full of questions he knows not to ask straight away.

‘My film is happening. It’s actually going to happen. And I still …’

‘It’s OK. Breathe deep. Come back to the future. Come back. I’m talking to you now. You’re safe.’

‘I’ll never be good enough.’

‘You are.’

‘I’m not going to be fixed.’

‘This is a small part of you. It’s not who you are.’

‘I just wanted to enjoy the moment. I wanted to celebrate. I wanted to let go. I tried, I really did.’ She is crying so much she’s not sure he’ll be able to understand her.

‘It’s OK. It’s OK.’

‘Adam, I’m so angry.’

‘Long slow breaths.’

‘I fucking hate myself.’

‘In through the nose, out through the mouth.’