Pip tipped the contents of the bag out on to the sorting table and tried to focus on the job in hand, but in her mind she was with Scarlet and Joan and the writer of the diary.

5

1979

Evelyn Mountcastle leaned back against the headboard and closed her eyes. Her head was thumping. She focused on the orangey glow of the inside of her eyelids and breathed deeply, but the pummelling in her head continued. Drinking cheap champagne always did this to her. The pale bubbly liquid was so prettily innocuous that each time it passed her lips she seemed able to convince herself that this time it wouldn’t ruin her. It always did.

Groaning quietly, she felt the fountain pen slip from her fingers. For a moment, she let it lie as she concentrated on the pain in her head before realising, a moment too late, what the consequences would be. Her eyes snapped open and she scrabbled to retrieve the pen, but not before a bloom of purple ink had seeped from the nib on to the yellowing sheets.

‘Damn,’ she said as she swept the pen up and began searching for the lid. She would write her diary later when she could give it her proper attention. Hopefully by then her head would have stopped pounding.

The telephone began to ring in the corridor outside her room, and Evelyn sagged deeper into the pillows. She hoped that her flatmate Brenda would be there to pick it up, but as it rang on and on, she knew she was going to have to go. Swinging her legs out of bed, she moved as quickly as her nausea would allow, shivering against the freezing cold and worried that whoever it was would ring off before she got there, rendering the trip from her warm bed entirely futile. However, she got there in time and snatched up the receiver.

‘Hello,’ she said. ‘Evelyn Mountcastle speaking.’

‘Were you in bed? It’s virtually lunchtime, you know. The early bird and all that . . .’

Evelyn recognised the drawling voice of her agent, Julian, and her heart lifted a little. Julian never rang unless he had something to tell her, and that generally meant work.

‘Anyway, now that I finally have you, I have good news!’ he said, without waiting for an answer to his first question. ‘Come into the office later, darling, and I’ll fill you in.’

Evelyn wished he would just tell her now, but she knew he wouldn’t. Julian was all about the drama, and he wasn’t going to waste any opportunity to let her see how very indispensable he was to her.

‘Is it the Into the Blue audition?’ she asked hopefully.

‘See you at two,’ was all he would say, the old tease, and then he was gone.

At least she had time to get herself together before then. She scampered back to her room and hopped into bed, pulling the covers up around her chin against the ravaging cold. Her hangover felt a little better already. It must be the Into the Blue thing. She wasn’t up for any other parts at the moment, and anyway, she had a good feeling about it. It had her name on it.