Anton blinked slowly, buying himself time to decide on his response. ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about. But I will tell you that when I agree to take on a film, that film becomes my life. It’s all-consuming for me. I eat, sleep, breathe and live that project. So—’

‘Really?’ Posy interrupted. She wasn’t interested in hearing any more over-the-top sales pitches from him. ‘Because you weren’t exactly jumping to listen to Kit when he tried to talk about the curse earlier.’

‘I thought we agreed curses don’t exist.’

‘Maybe not. But that doesn’t stop people believing in them.’ Posy leaned against the wall beside the dinner gong and considered the man in front of her. ‘I did some research into you, you know, before my audition. All these articles about how you’re a passionate – or angry – up-and-coming young talent. Except you can’t stay up-and-coming forever, can you? Or young for that matter. What are you now? Forty? Forty-five?’

Anton’s shoulders stiffened. ‘What are you implying?’

‘This is your big break, right? A mainstream movie with a loyal fanbase. One you could sprinkle with your trademark fairy dust – diverse cast, modern humour, edgy film techniques. Turn Lettice’s books into an innovative Anton Martinez movie, rather than another retelling of the same old stories.’

‘I’ve tried to be faithful to the spirit of the books with everything I’ve done,’ Anton replied. ‘I had to be.’

‘Because the family retained the final approval of the script, right? And they didn’t like the first one at all, did they?’ The pieces were coming together, now.

Anton’s laidback, handsome face contorted with frustration. ‘It was a great script. Fresh, new, modern – and they dismissed it out of hand.’

‘You leaked the script,’ Posy said, a statement not a question. ‘You put it out on the internet hoping the fans would love it, to try and get your own way.’ They hadn’t though. The articles she’d read had universally panned the original script. That was when the production company had brought Libby in to start over.

‘What do the fans know? They’d keep everything exactly as it was in the originals, right down to the racism and the homophobia, if they could. They’re stuck in the past!’

There was a kernel of truth in his words, enough to give her a pang of empathy. ‘Maybe some of them are. But not all.’ She thought about the VIP fans she’d met, and the questioners from the film panel. From what they’d said, she’d got the impression than most of the fans at Aldermere that weekend would be happy to have Dahlia’s adventures brought up to date, as long as they kept the heart of the stories the same. The thing that really mattered to them.