Magda chomps on a hash brown and says, ‘This has all been cray-zee.’ She makes the word sound French with a roll of the tongue. ‘Is every movie set like this? So full of maniacs?’

Duke looks at Daphne and she pulls a face.

‘Yup,’ says Daphne. ‘To varying degrees, but … essentially, yes. Although I think this one was particularly heightened.’ The way she says it makes Duke think she’s alluding to him and Evie, and he’s willing to write it off as paranoid until Daphne looks at Magda and they both smirk.

‘What?’ asks Evie, uncharacteristically oblivious.

‘Nothing,’ says Daphne, too quickly. Evie looks to Magda.

‘Seriously,’ Magda says. ‘Nothing.’

They chew in companionable silence, before Duke asks: ‘Should we verify Katerina’s story do you think? I could have some people make some calls.’

Magda adopts a funny low voice to mimic him. ‘“I could have some people make some calls”,’ she repeats. ‘Have you heard yourself? The shoot’s finished. Katerina is scared half to death. It’s done. Do as we little people do and build a bridge for yourself.’

Duke doesn’t get it.

‘She means to get over it,’ Evie explains in a stage whisper, and everyone laughs at him.

‘Got it.’ Duke nods. ‘Getting over it right … About … now.’

At that, Magda starts to push back her chair. ‘I have somewhere to be,’ she suddenly decides, looking at Daphne in a funny sort of way.

Daphne cocks her head, and then decides the same.

‘Me too!’ she declares, and Evie furrows her brow and is about to say something when Duke catches Magda tip her head towards him with big eyes. Ah. They’re finally being given some alone time.

Duke smiles.

Evie almost smiles.

He sighs.

‘I have a million things I want to say to you,’ Duke tells her, figuring that that’s as good a place as any to start.

Evie nods. ‘Yeah,’ she agrees. ‘Mostly I am very ashamed by my over-reaction last night.’ She pushes food around her plate self-consciously. ‘I’d been writing all day, and I was wired … Daphne explained everything. I don’t know why I lost it that way. I was scared, I guess.’

‘I know a little bit of something about that,’ Duke admits.

Eye contact. Nervous smiles. Almost-words.

‘Go on,’ he prompts her. ‘Say it. You can tell me.’

Evie smiles. ‘I like you and I’m scared,’ she tells him, and Duke’s heart explodes with the melodies of one thousand symphonies.

‘Well, hell,’ Duke says. ‘Spot the writer.’

‘Yes, my most eloquent phrasing yet,’ she self-mocks, and Duke raises his eyebrows.

‘No,’ he says. ‘That’s honestly it. Because I like you and I’m scared.’