One of the wardrobe girls hurries forward and unlaces April’s button boots.

‘April!’ says Ant. ‘Don’t be ridiculous!’

‘If you don’t pick it up, the critics will,’ she snaps. She steps into a pair of Uggs and strides across the soundstage. She’s leaving. Oh my God.

‘Come back here!’ says Ant furiously.

‘Fix the scene!’ she retorts over her shoulder.

I can see Ant and Dylan exchanging perturbed looks.

‘April, be reasonable.’ Ant hurries after her. ‘Look, we’ll discuss it.’

As I glance around, all the extras and crew are watching, riveted. What do we do now?

There’s a hurried confab going on between Dino and some other guy in a headset, then Dino strides towards the set.

‘OK, lunch. Lunch, everybody.’

At once, the extras all start to head off, and Suze bounds across the set to me, as fast as she can in her big skirt.

‘What did you do?’ she demands.

‘I didn’t do anything!’

‘Well, everyone’s blaming you.’

‘Really?’ I stare at her in dismay. ‘That is so unfair!’

‘No, they’re pleased. They might get overtime. Shall we go and get some lunch? They might have some more of that sushi. You know, I might become a full-time extra,’ she adds as we walk along. ‘I’ve learned such a lot. There’s a special agency you join, and there’s plenty of work if you have the right look. You can make good money!’

Good money? I want to point out to Suze that she already has good money, what with her husband being a squillionaire, only she looks so animated, I don’t like to.

‘And if you can ride a horse that counts as a special skill,’ she’s saying, when a fresh-faced girl hurries up to us.

‘Becky? Is one of you Becky?’

‘That’s me,’ I say, a bit nervously.

‘Miss Tremont would like to see you in her trailer.’

Suze and I look at each other, agog. A trailer! A proper movie star wants to see me in her trailer!

‘Can my friend come too?’ I say.

‘Sure. This way.’

I’m slightly disappointed in the trailer, to be honest. I was expecting it to be full of roses and champagne buckets and cards from the producers and maybe some signed photos from George Clooney, not just look like a mini-caravan with magazines and bottles of Evian and energy bars scattered around. April is on the phone as we enter, and I sit down cautiously on a bench-thing next to Suze.

I wouldn’t mind having a trailer, I find myself thinking idly. Imagine if, everywhere you went in life, there was a little trailer waiting for you to go and relax in whenever you felt like it.

Imagine taking a trailer shopping. God, yes! You could put all your bags in it, and have a little rest, and make yourself a cup of tea and—

‘Becky.’ April puts down her phone and smiles at me. ‘How are you?’

‘Er, fine!’ I say. ‘Thank you. This is my friend Suze.’