It seemed they were the last to arrive. Josephine nodded to the Lancasters, who were seated at a rosewood gaming table by another door, then took the opportunity offered by the music to study the guests she hadn’t met yet: a dark-haired woman in her twenties, who fitted Archie’s description of Barbara Penhaligon; the photographer from The Times, who sat in one of the alcoves with his camera in his lap, apparently too captivated even to consider pointing it at Marlene; and an elderly man with a shock of white hair, standing with Hilaria by the piano and looking lovingly past the film star at the woman who was playing for her – they must be the Hartleys, Josephine thought. Hilaria broke away from the group as soon as she saw them, and Josephine was touched by the warmth of her welcome. ‘Miss Tey, how lovely to see you again, and you must be Miss Fox. Welcome to St Michael’s Mount, both of you, and thank you so much for changing your plans to be here. I hope Archie told you how grateful I am – and not just because you’ve bolstered the coffers so generously. You really didn’t have to do that. It’s enough that you’ve come.’

‘Well, Archie did mention that the circumstances were a little unusual,’ Josephine said, with a wry glance towards the piano, ‘but he certainly didn’t have to twist our arms.’ 118

‘And the company wasn’t the only enticement,’ Marta added. ‘This is such a special place. Thank you for inviting us.’

‘It’s my pleasure. Archie and I haven’t seen anywhere near enough of each other these last few years. This is almost like the old days.’ She smiled fondly at him, and Josephine wondered if their respective families had ever hoped for something more than friendship between Archie and Hilaria. ‘Come and meet everyone.’

There was a ripple of applause as Marlene finished singing. She gave a nod of recognition to her accompanist, then got up and headed in their direction. The colour drained from Marta’s face until Josephine feared that she might actually faint. The actress held out her hand; the Prussian blue eyes and high cheekbones were so legendary that it was hard to do anything but stare at them. ‘I am Marlene,’ she said, although it would have been hard to find three more redundant words. ‘You must be Archie’s friends? He has told me so much about you and your work. Which of you writes the plays, and which the films?’ Neither of them spoke, as if the question had been a difficult one, and it was left to Archie to introduce them. ‘And you all know Mr Hitchcock?’

‘I think it would be fairer to say that Archie and I have crossed paths with him,’ Josephine said, still smarting from the liberties that the director had taken when adapting her book, ‘but Marta knows him very well. She’s worked on several films with him.’

‘Were you involved in The 39 Steps? I love that film.’