‘I considered it.’ Duke shrugs, and he wants to be serious and earnest, to reiterate, for the thousandth time, how upset he is, but then they hold eye contact and she does her half-smile and he mirrors it and then they’re really smiling: awkwardly, but it’s there. Not in love, but something like it. Friends.

‘I just wanted to …’ Daphne says, and then she looks around, down the corridor, to check there are no listening ears.

‘Come in.’ Duke steps back and she crosses the threshold. ‘Should I call up for drinks?’

She takes in the room. They talked about this, once, because that’s what Duke had loved about dating her: that she got it. They’d talked about empty, stark hotel rooms, how it can be awful, or brilliant. The blank canvas and new project are an opportunity to be somebody else: sometimes their best selves, sometimes their craziest or naughtiest selves. But when it goes the other way – when a project doesn’t jive or drags or is riddled with problems – it’s just lonely, and the hotel room is always the most obvious manifestation of that. You don’t always get a choice which way to play it. Duke suspects this hotel room will be the latter more than the former.

‘Can we just raid the mini bar?’ she asks, settling into an armchair facing the bed. He doesn’t have to ask what she wants. He gets two glasses and locates two tiny vodkas.

‘Thank you,’ she says, when he hands it to her. She looks beautiful, as ever. Bright eyes and smooth skin and a sparkling, winning smile. And she doesn’t want him. He can’t speak first. He’s begged already, when he found out about her affair. He promised himself that here, on the second part of the shoot in a brand-new country, he’d show himself a little more dignity.

‘I wanted to …’ she starts again, and then shakes her head. ‘I don’t know. Not clear the air, but … talk? If that’s okay?’

‘I let you in, didn’t I?’ he replies, but they’re doing their half-smiles again, because neither can truly be mad at the other. In his imagination Duke can stay cross, but not in person.

‘I don’t want to insult you by repeating myself. I know I’ve had my fair share of airtime and I’m grateful you heard me out. I suppose it’s just … you know. We were such good friends before, and I’d be so sad to lose that. We tried being together and it didn’t work, and we have to work together for another three weeks, you know? And after that we have to promote the thing, and I’ll bet you get your nomination at the Globes so then there’s the awards circuit in the new year …’