Lines of people snaked and swerved between flags laid out over the lawn, with more arriving as she watched, jumping from the back of a red double-decker bus, or piling out of more open-top cars. Further into the gardens, and leading around to the back of the house, bunting and lights hung between the trees, and stalls were set up selling jam and cakes and cups of tea. The scene had the feeling of a village fete, the sort Posy vaguely remembered from her childhood in England, before the family moved to LA for her career.

She didn’t belong here anymore. But here she was anyway.

Beside her, Libby stumbled to a stop.

‘Okay?’ Posy asked, reaching to steady her.

‘Yeah.’ Libby stared at the scene before them. ‘Sorry. Just … that fountain. It wasn’t on the plan of the grounds or the photos I looked at. I’ll need to rework a couple of scenes at the front of the house to accommodate it if we’re filming here. Shame to miss it out.’ She shook off Posy’s hand, and carried on towards the front of the house, leaving Posy staring after her.

Maybe Libby was as nervous about this weekend as the rest of them after all. If the family didn’t approve her script, this could all be over before it started. That was a lot of pressure for one woman.

‘Posy!’ Anton called over his shoulder, and she hurried to catch them up.

‘Don’t forget to turn off your phones before you check them in at the door,’ said a young woman in an olive-green skirt suit, with perfect victory rolls in her pale auburn hair and a clipboard in her hand, as she led a smaller group of people towards the main entrance of Aldermere House. ‘This is an immersive experience, after all – and Dahlia Lively never had the advantage of mobile technology!’

‘We have to turn in our phones?’ Kit asked, horrified at the idea. Posy silently felt the same, but knew better than to show it.

‘Like the lady said, it’s immersive!’ Anton waved at the woman in the olive suit. ‘Hey, Clementine! Where’s the boss?’

Clementine looked over and smiled widely at Anton. She ushered the small gang of attendees – two women and two men, all in immaculate period costumes – in the direction of the entrance. Then she hurried towards Posy and the others, scribbling something on her clipboard as she walked, her slender hips sashaying in her pencil skirt.

‘You made it.’ Clementine leaned in to kiss Anton on both cheeks. ‘I thought you film types were always fashionably late.’

‘Couldn’t wait to get started,’ Anton replied. ‘Now, let me introduce you to everyone.’