Soon we were driving along Sunset Boulevard, lined with fine-looking new buildings in bright pastel shades. A tramline ran down the middle of it and there were motorcars everywhere. The depression that had been so visible in New York clearly hadn’t struck here. Mummy had perked up considerably since arriving and when we turned into the driveway of the Beverly Hills Hotel she gave a little squeak of pleasure. It was a pink palace with palm trees and brilliant tropical plants turning it into a fantasyland.

“I think you’ll be quite comfortable here,” Ronnie said with understatement.

Young men in crisp white uniforms rushed out to greet us. Instead of being taken into the main building of the hotel, we were led through the grounds, past a big sparkling swimming pool, to our own bungalow set amid more riots of tropical foliage. Bougainvillea spilled around the front door. Spiky bird-of-paradise and hibiscus lined the path. The sunlight and colors were dazzling and the air was heady with perfume.

“The first thing we shall need is sunglasses, darling,” Mummy said. “I can’t risk getting frown lines.”

“I’ll have an optical store bring you a selection right away,” Ronnie said. “Do you think you can survive here for the time being?” He opened the door to a sumptuous interior, gold and white wicker furniture and white filmy curtains at the windows. There were two bedrooms and two bathrooms, and a small maid’s quarters behind.

“I think we’ll manage,” Mummy said. Luckily I wasn’t asked, or I might have said something childish like “golly.” The contrast to one who has survived years of Fig’s frugality and Castle Rannoch’s damp cold was overwhelming.

“Great, then I’ll have the sunglasses guy come over and anything else you need today? If not, get some rest and the car will come for you at six o’clock tomorrow.” Ronnie was already heading for the door.

“Six o’clock? For dinner?” Mummy asked.

Ronnie laughed. “No, six a.m. Cy wants you on the set. We’re already shooting. Your final script will be delivered later this afternoon with the scenes for tomorrow marked up.” He glanced at his watch. “I’d better be going. Cy gets mad if I’m away too long. And order what you like from the restaurants and bars. Just sign for it.”