Johnny shuffled over and put his arms around them both, leaning on them heavily. In spite of his dishevelled appearance, he smelled good.

Clover pulled back. ‘I so wish you guys were coming too. It’s so unfair. We’re a team.’ They had only been issued with two tickets and there was no way Liam was going to pass on the chance to share air with the Hollywood cognoscenti.

‘It fucking sucks,’ Johnny agreed. ‘There’s some cinematographers out there I’d give my right arm to meet.’

‘I promise I’ll make sure they all know your name and the things you did. I’ll get their cards for you,’ she said earnestly.

‘Thanks, Clo.’

‘If you do happen to meet Nancy . . .’ Matty shrugged. ‘Send her my best. Tell her I’ll be in touch.’

Clover gave a bemused nod.

Johnny picked up her luggage. He gave a surprised look. ‘Have you actually got anything in here?’

Matty groaned. She could never understand that ‘packing light’ was actually a thing. Her guru and queen in most things – packing, jewels, grooming routines – was Elizabeth Taylor. More was more.

‘Just the essentials.’ Clover blew them both a kiss as she headed for the door. ‘I’ll buzz you when I get there. In the meantime, Mats, I think there’s legs in the Geldof idea, make an approach, see what comes back. Johnny-boy, if you can begin editing that material for the bonus content deal with Netflix. They need eleven minutes on the nose.’

‘Got it.’

She started down the stairs. ‘Hollywood, here we come!’

‘And if you get a chance to snog Liam Hemsworth, I say go for it!’ Matty hollered as she disappeared out of sight down the grand winding staircase. ‘Do it for me!’

‘Will do!’ Clover said, getting down to the communal hall and opening the heavy front door. ‘. . . Sorry, sorry!’ she said, seeing the driver in a dark grey suit waiting by the car for her. ‘I overslept.’

He was too professional to point out it was gone two in the afternoon.

‘There’s traffic on the M40, Ms Phillips,’ was all he said, reaching for her bags and putting them into the boot.

‘Hey Clo!’ She looked back to find Matty waving from the sitting-room window. ‘You forgot your bloody phone!’

‘Fuck!’ She was so excited – and hung over – she’d forget her own head right now.

‘Johnny’s coming down!’ Matty yelled, just as the front door burst open and Johnny leaned through, holding it out with an outstretched arm. He had no shoes or socks on and the path was glistening with spring rain. ‘Just as well it rang or we wouldn’t have noticed in time,’ he said as she jogged back to him.

‘Rang?’

‘Mia’s on the line.’