It had always struck her as odd that Rory MacMillan had had a daughter and then lost her again, without ever being aware that such a thing was even a possibility. Her child probably hadn’t been the only one he had, in fact, given the way things worked back then. Scarlet had probably had half-siblings all over the place, although that was something Evelyn didn’t like to think too deeply about.

Evelyn had allowed MacMillan to cross her mind on and off over the years. She had wondered what had become of him, and if he ever thought about her, although she doubted that very much. For a while, she had tried to keep up with what was going on in the world of television, but then she had stopped punishing herself. It hurt too much to see other people having success when hers had been stolen from her. Then she had played an imaginary game in which she confronted MacMillan with Scarlet, showed him and the rest of the world what he had done. She had gleaned a dark satisfaction from the idea that she could use what she knew to undermine his world as easily as he had undermined hers. But in the end, she had abandoned the plan. It was all so very long ago. What was there to be gained from exposing him, and who would believe her anyway? Everybody knew the score in those days. Men had the power and women understood what had to be done in order to get what they wanted. She had just been one in a very long line.

‘Didn’t he know about Scarlet?’ asked Pip, cutting across her thoughts.

Evelyn shook her head. ‘I suppose he might have worked it out. I left his film set pregnant and he’d had sex with me some months beforehand. It’s hardly rocket science.’

‘Was he your boyfriend? You weren’t married, were you?’ Pip asked.

The young could be so prudish, Evelyn thought.

‘No and no, definitely not,’ she replied.

Pip seemed to hesitate before delving further, as if she were fearful of crossing a line. She really did look dreadful, Evelyn thought, although there was a little more colour in her cheeks after their walk along the prom.

Then Pip gave Evelyn a smirk and raised her eyebrows suggestively. ‘Was it a one-night stand?’ she asked, dropping her voice to a whisper.

‘More of a one-afternoon stand,’ replied Evelyn coolly.

‘Blimey!’ said Pip, her bloodshot eyes suddenly wide. ‘I would never have had you pegged as a “one-afternoon stand” kind of woman.’

Evelyn felt a little gratified at this, although she wasn’t sure what she was proud of – not being thought of as that kind of woman, or the sex itself.