“Are you ready?” said the girl. She beamed a bright smile. “I’m Emily, by the way. Nice to meet you all! And this is Blair.”

Blair raised a weary hand. Was he terribly hungover? Carmen wondered. Although that wouldn’t go with his reputation of positive self-happy self.

“Okay, Blair,” said Emily, as the TV crew stepped forward and introduced themselves one by one. A woman carrying a large bag approached.

“Hair and makeup?” she said. “I’ve cleared a space.”

She had, but it was right behind the till and in the way of everything, which, coupled with the cables, meant that Carmen couldn’t do much more than stand and watch. Mr. McCredie had darted away like a mole when he’d seen everything and everyone there—again. Carmen thought that if seeing a lot of people in your shop was worrying, no wonder your retail career hadn’t flourished.

However, she took people back and showed them how to get coffee and tried to avoid the gaze of the angry shoppers waiting in the cold, sticky-beaking through the window. She needn’t have worried: a small, feisty-looking woman who was, she realized, the director, marched outside and yelled at them to get out of the way or it would take all day, and meekly, the queue retreated, to the faint annoyance of the magic shop but the clear delight of the coffee shop, who immediately started offering queue delivery.

“Okay, quiet on set, everyone,” shouted the director finally, and Carmen edged forward so she could have a look.

It was absurd. As if a different person had materialized, the grumpy-looking, sleepy person who had slouched in half an hour before was nowhere to be seen.

In front of Carmen now, standing by the silenced train set and a rapidly erected Christmas tree, was a shiny, glowing, somehow much bigger person. He had shiny flicked brown hair, bright gleaming eyes, and incredibly bright teeth, which he was flashing as if he were enjoying the happiest moment of his life. The director demanded silence, and the cameras started rolling. The redheaded presenter introduced him in tones of awed reverence, and he made a broad “aw shucks” face.

“Hi there,” he said in a confident accent pitched precisely somewhere between British and American. “I am just so happy to be here in Edinburgh, one of the most beautiful cities in the world.”

The redheaded presenter giggled. “Well, it’s so lovely to have you here. Can you tell us a little about your new book?”

“Of course, Caroline.”

He leaned forward and seemed to look the presenter—or the camera—straight in the eye.