She watches Duke finish out his scene and feels a pang of guilt. She crossed a line with him this morning and the shame of it burns behind her ears, even if she doesn’t like him. He was only trying to be nice, smarmy as he might otherwise be. Evie doesn’t have to make every man pay for the dismal actions of a few, but Magda has dared suggest she seems committed to trying. No. He might be an actor, but he’s not the devil. She should have been kinder. She can’t explain why she was so atrociously discourteous to him, only that she was. She feels silly about it, now. Maybe it’s the jet lag. Maybe it’s the niggling feeling that she’s wasting time, here, that she should be writing. Her work can often be like that, reminding her even on a weekend or public holiday that there’s still more to be done. Being an author is like forever having outstanding homework.

‘And cut,’ Brad says, pulling her out of her thoughts. She’s missed the climax of the scene. Everyone disperses as the next one is set up. They don’t need another take – the second one got it just great. Evie sees craft services setting out a fresh batch of hot drinks and heads over, desperate to warm up.

‘Hey. You okay?’ Katerina asks her. Evie didn’t see her there. She looks up, her vision a bit blurred. She blinks her eyes and realises she’s welled up.

‘It’s the cold,’ Evie says, and she almost sounds convincing. ‘I don’t think I factored in wind-chill when I was getting dressed this morning.’

Katerina takes off her earmuffs and gives them to her. ‘Here,’ she says. ‘Wear these for a while.’ When Evie protests, she insists. ‘Honestly, I don’t need them. I think I have a hat in my bag and this gilet is battery-powered, too. I’m toasty warm. Plus, these will make you look cute for the socials team.’

Later, when they find her, the socials team agree. Two early twenty-somethings, Dream and Willow, have been tasked with behind-the-scenes interviews, wardrobe looks, cast and crew Q&As, the works.

‘Make-up say they’ve got time for you if you want,’ Willow-or-Dream offers.

‘I’m wearing make-up,’ Evie says.

Willow-or-Dream tilts her head to one side, like she doesn’t understand. ‘Hmmm,’ she says. ‘Maybe just get them to warm up your complexion a bit, widen your eyes? And let’s see if wardrobe can lend you something to break up your coat colour against your skin.’

‘What’s wrong with the coat colour against my skin?’ Evie asks. She feels attacked. ‘This is a good coat. It was expensive.’