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‘You can’t miss it,’ Alex said, leaning in to say it directly into her ear.

She didn’t want to have to keep repeating shit. It was horribly unconfident, and Alex wanted to project confidence at all costs.

But then something happened that made her feel like a scared little child. The girl looked at her, and her mouth transformed into a smile that took Alex’s breath away. And Alex knew, right then, that something terrible was happening. She was about to become like every other idiot here. She was going to fall in love with this sad stranger.

‘I’m Leigh,’ she said.

‘Alex. Let’s get that drink.’

Now

Modern day Alex was climbing into her car and calling Isabelle at the same time. She was going to need to apply some pressure on Isabelle for the name of the photographer. When (and if) she got the name, she would be ready to gun the engine.

But Isabelle didn’t answer. It was her PA, Steven.

‘I need Isabelle,’ Alex told him.

‘She’s on set right now. Is there something I can help you with?’ he asked.

‘Possibly. Do you have the name of the person who took that snap?’ Alex asked briskly. There was no time to fuck around.

‘What snap?’ Steven said, sounding nervous.

‘I think you know what snap.’

Steven’s tone grew weary. ‘Oh. That.’

‘So, you’ve got a name?’ Alex pushed.

‘If Isabelle didn’t tell you, I obviously can’t.’

‘OK, but the thing is, Erin’s campdoeshave the name, and they’re headed to see that person to procure the picture. Once that happens, we lose control of the narrative. They can release it with their own story.’

Steven didn’t say anything.

‘Time sensitive, Steven,’ Alex pressed. ‘She’s headed there now.’

‘Who? Erin?’

‘Nope. Her PR person. Leigh Calloway. If she gets to her before I do, she’ll talk your mystery photographer into giving it to her.’

Steven was sceptical. ‘I doubt it. She won’t even get past the front gate.’

‘You don’t know Leigh,’ Alex said.

She knew she was kind of implying that Leigh was some kind of master salesperson, and that wasn’t the way it was. If she were to get in, it would be by doing her whole thing. That thing was drawing you in by being straight up, kind, all that stuff that Alex didn’t do. Sometimes, people responded to that—the chumps.

‘Steven, I need the name now. Isabelle will thank you; I can promise that.’

‘You’re putting me in a difficult position, you realise that?’ he said anxiously.

Alex said nothing. She knew better than to talk past a yes. Which she was about to get.

‘Fine. It’s Helen Archer,’ Steven said.

Alex laughed out loud. ‘Seriously?’

‘Yes. You want her address?’