Clementine laughed. ‘I think I can identify at least two of them on my own.’ Turning to Kit, she held out a hand, her blue eyes sparkling. ‘Kit Lewis, right? I watched you in that BBC drama you did recently. You must be our new Johnnie Swain.’

‘Glad somebody was watching,’ Kit joked, with his usual warm smile. ‘And yes – Dahlia’s loyal and loving detective inspector, that’s me.’

‘And Posy Starling. Our new Dahlia herself.’ Clementine turned her wide eyes on her, and Posy responded automatically with her ‘meeting the fans’ smile. ‘I couldn’t believe it when I read Anton’s email this morning! I grew up watching you on telly, and at the cinema. I think I watched every film you ever made. It’s so great to see you, well—it’s lovely to have you here, this weekend, I mean.’

Posy ignored the obvious slip. She knew what Clementine meant – everyone there did. It was good to see her working again, after everything. A career as a child star, it turned out, was no guarantee of acting work as an adult. Especially when your reputation entered every audition before you.

‘It’s great to be here.’ Posy looked up again at the looming house, and tried to put some enthusiasm into her words.

Clementine peered at her clipboard. ‘Now, I don’t know how much Anton has told you about this weekend …’

‘Not much,’ Posy admitted, with a smile. ‘It was all rather last minute – for me, anyway.’

‘I wanted to retain the element of surprise.’ Anton waggled his heavy, dark eyebrows as if it were all a wonderful joke.

Maybe it was. Maybe casting her as Dahlia was a prank Anton was playing.

No. Posy straightened her shoulders, tossing her hair back. She’d earned this role, she’d be brilliant in this role, and this was her weekend to prove it.

‘Posy Starling as Dahlia Lively tries her best, but’ – oh, shut up, Uncle Sol.

The film critic in her head silenced, Posy concentrated on Clementine’s explanation of the weekend ahead.

‘So, this weekend is an immersive back-to-the-thirties experience for fans of golden age murder mysteries in general – and Lettice Davenport in particular, of course. It’s a chance for fans to revisit the world of Dahlia Lively herself. Happier times, when the only thing anybody had to worry about was murder.’ Clementine’s eyes sparkled as Kit laughed at her joke. ‘That’s why there are no modern cars allowed on site – everyone has been driven in from the station like you were, in period vehicles.’

‘And no mobile phones allowed? Really?’ Kit asked, obviously hoping he might be an exception.

‘That’s just for the people staying at Aldermere House itself,’ Clementine explained. ‘That’s you four, and then what we’re calling the VIP delegates.’