He googled her, but not much came up – a webpage with her book covers and links to buy, no contact page or email box to write, and a social media page that stated in the bio that it was run by a social media manager. He’d brought the book home with him to London, put it on his shelf and ordered her back catalogue. For the past few years, he’s had her next publication on auto-buy, and when On the Romantic Road was released, just before yet another Christmas his mother ended up in hospital, he knew it needed to be a movie, and that she needed to be involved. Her words saved him, and she’d had no idea.

Evie nips back to her room for her laptop, and when she’s back Duke feels a swell of gratitude.

‘Hey,’ he says, suddenly remembering something Daphne had mentioned.

‘Hmmmm?’ she asks.

‘I just want to say – Daphne said you found an information sheet on yourself? It really was hers, you know. I don’t want you to think I’ve been putting on a front about how I relate to your work …’

She looks at him and smiles. She seems pleased.

‘Okay,’ she says. ‘I think I believe you.’

‘Think?’

She shrugs. ‘Ninety-eight per cent, yeah.’

Duke shakes his head. ‘You’re impossible.’

‘Correct,’ she says, and smiles again. ‘Anyway. Tea? Or I can call up for some food …?’

He shakes his head. ‘No, I’m fine,’ he replies, and then he thinks of his scenes tomorrow, how he’ll probably look terrible, all things considered. It’s very late. ‘Maybe just grab me a mineral water from the mini bar?’ He can at least stay hydrated.

She gives him a bottle and takes one for herself, settling into a chair.

‘Want me to talk or type?’ she says, and then she yawns. ‘Sorry,’ she adds.

‘I was just thinking of how I googled you after I read No Stopping Us and found, like, zero information on you. I was so eager to know who was behind that story.’

She shrugs. ‘Well,’ she says. ‘Now you know.’

‘Yeah,’ he says. She’s waiting for him to say more about his mother. He can tell. But what is there to say?

‘I’m going to call my mum in the morning,’ Duke opts to say. ‘I mean I told her I would, so I don’t really feel like I’ve got a choice.’

Evie nods. ‘Well,’ she tells him. ‘You’ve always got a choice.’

‘Do I? She came all this way. She says she’s sober. She has a boyfriend? Apparently? I was too stunned just now to ask her everything I want to ask her. If she’s going to be here, I want her to answer my questions.’

Evie tips her head, absorbing everything he’s saying.