‘I know you do, Mum. We move to the next location tomorrow, so I imagine we’d be saying goodbye anyway. Do you want to come to set today? We’re close by, and we should hug, at least, before you fly. I won’t have long, but …’

He can hear himself doing it: extending an olive branch and then in the same breath issuing a rebuttal, taking it back, giving her a get-out clause.

‘We’ll come,’ she says, before he can rescind the invitation altogether. ‘Is there a time that’s best?’

Duke stops himself from saying that no time is a good one, really. Instead he decides: ‘After lunch. I’ll send you the details.’

He isn’t crying by the time he rings off. He splashes cold water on his face, looks at himself in the mirror, and tells himself he’s loved, and loving, like Phoebe taught him. He thinks of Evie’s face. For the first time in a long time, he chooses to believe it.

In the hotel lobby, he bumps into Evie and Magda.

‘Hey, hey, Mr Director!’ Evie says to him, giving a playful punch to his upper arm. ‘You ready?’

‘How did you know?’ Duke asks, standing proud.

‘Katerina said.’ She shrugs. ‘Congratulations!’

‘Thank you.’ He nods. ‘Yeah. It’s pretty cool.’

‘It’s amazing,’ she says, grinning. ‘But also: you ready to go? I need to be on set too apparently. Let’s walk and talk.’

‘Yeah. I’m ready. But whilst you’re here I have a favour to ask.’

‘Okay Duke, yes, I’ll be in the movie. FINE,’ Magda jokes, and Evie purses her lips like of course Magda wants to be on film. Of course she does.

‘It’s about my mum,’ Duke continues, and Magda, clearly understanding that maybe she shouldn’t be privy to this, demonstrates her ability to read the room by announcing, suddenly, that she’s just going to get a coffee to go and she’ll be by the front doors getting some air when Evie is ready.

‘Perfect.’ Evie nods, turning her attention back to Duke. ‘What can I do?’ she asks. ‘What do you need?’

‘Well …’ Duke explains. He knows this is a big ask, really. ‘She’s coming to set. I imagine she’ll have Roger with her. They’re coming to say goodbye, just quickly. The thing is I don’t want everyone knowing my business, and who knows what she might say to who …’

‘You want me to play babysitter?’ Evie asks.

‘Host,’ Duke corrects, adopting a funny voice. ‘Would you host my mother on set? Also known as babysitting, yes.’

Evie nods. ‘Of course,’ she agrees. ‘When’s she coming?’

‘After lunch. I told her one, and she’ll be by the barriers, and knows to wait to be met by somebody. I didn’t say who, though I assume she’ll recognise you.’