‘I honestly just don’t think he would. I don’t exist to him. He has this whole other family, but I don’t know if he’s sober now, or still drinking … I mean, if his other kids know about me, surely they’d let me know if he died or whatever. But other than that …’

Magda nods. ‘And that’s … okay with you?’

Evie raises an eyebrow. ‘This doesn’t put me in the mood for some big fuzzy reunion, if that’s what you mean,’ she says drily. ‘If Duke gets to patch things up with his mom, then I’m happy for him, but, no, it doesn’t inspire me to track down my dad. I don’t think he wants to hear from me anyway.’

‘Hmm,’ says Magda. ‘It’s interesting, isn’t it? You’re both the children of alcoholics and both do very public work. You make each other laugh, you seem relaxed with him …’

‘What’s your point?’

‘Lots in common, I suppose is my point.’

‘Right.’

Magda stares her out, refusing to say anything else until Evie relents and gives her a bit more to work with, presumably.

‘Shall we get the cheque and do some shopping?’

Magda shakes her head like Evie has told an especially unfunny joke.

‘Unbelievable.’ She laughs. ‘I’ll tell you something: I don’t ever worry that under torture and duress you’d give away my secrets to the government. You never talk about anything you don’t want to.’

Evie laughs too. ‘And this is news to you?’ she says.

As they exit the café, they bump into an irate, shouty man on his cell phone, pacing in the cold without a coat, his breath raging in front of him like the fire coming from a dragon.

‘Jesus,’ Magda says, ‘American tourists are the worst, aren’t they? It’s a shame the Germans speak English so well. Dude needs to chill.’

Evie shakes her head at the stream of f-thises and f-thats that the guy is screaming. She can’t even tell who he might be talking to: a partner, a colleague, a poor customer sales rep. And then he turns around enough for her to see that it’s Brad, the director.

‘Whoa,’ Evie says, lowering her gaze and tugging on Magda’s sleeve. ‘Stop staring now. It’s the director.’

The pair hurry across the square and around the corner from their café and the hotel, and thus the hustle and bustle of anyone from the movie. Up a small side street strewn with fairy lights and with a big Christmas tree at the end, Evie explains: ‘He’s wild, man. Like, so super nice to your face, really Hollywood, really showbiz, and he was okay on set at first, but then something happened with him and Daphne …’