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The drive to Deborah’s estate felt like an eternity. The lush, rolling hills and picturesque countryside were not Tess’s bag at all. It was too full of bugs and ex-girlfriends.

Zara was driving in unusual silence, the quiet in the car only punctuated by the soft hum of the engine. It gave Tess plenty of time to stress about the impending conversation. It was going to be pointless. Deborah would rather pull out an incisor with a pair of dirty pliers than ever do Tess a favour.

As they approached the grand estate, Tess’s heart rate quickened. The mansion, with its opulent facade and manicured gardens, was intended to intimidate. It still worked.

‘Did you live here?’ Zara asked, pulling up the driveway.

‘Never,’ Tess told her.

When they reached the door, Tess’s nerves were on edge. Before they could even knock, the door swung open. Deborah stood there, her striking dark blue eyes as commanding as ever. But she was only beautiful in the same way as a tiger. If you were dumb enough to think you could pet it, you’d get your hand eaten.

‘Tess,’ Deborah said, her voice cool but edged with a touch of irritation. ‘What the hell are you doing here?’

‘Great to see you too,’ Tess said dryly. ‘I would have called ahead, but I didn’t think you’d pick up.’

‘Oh, Darling, how charmingly na?ve of you to think the call would have even come through. You’re blocked,’ Deborah said with savage politeness.

‘Look,’ Tess started again, trying to keep her voice steady. ‘I’m not here to make trouble. I’m in a bind and I need your help. You’ve got a reel of Vertigo, haven’t you?

Deborah’s eyes narrowed slightly. ‘What of it?’

‘I want to borrow it,’ Tess said plainly. No point pussyfooting around. She didn’t have the time, anyway.

Deborah laughed. ‘Why would I lend that to you?’

Tess took a deep breath, steeling herself. ‘The cinema has recently been renovated and we’re doing a grand reopening with a Hitchcock festival. It starts in an hour.’

Deborah sneered. ‘Hitchcock? Starting with Vertigo? How predictable.’

Tess heard herself reflected in the comment. This was how she spoke to Zara. She didn’t like the comparison. ‘Yes, well… Anyway. The DCP came through—’

‘DCP?’ Deborah repeated, her tone dripping with disdain.

‘It was the wrong one,’ Tess pressed on. ‘I’ve got three hundred people coming to see a movie I don’t have and can’t get from anyone but you.’

Deborah’s gaze was icy. ‘What makes you think I’d help you?’

Zara decided to step in. ‘Deborah, hi, I’m Zara Shaw.’ She put out her hand. Deborah barely glanced at her. ‘Your new one?’ she asked Tess. ‘Interesting tactic to bring her with you to ask a favour.’

Tess cringed. If anything could make this worse, it was that. She nearly had to respect Deborah’s ability to find the worst possible thing to say.

‘New one?’ Zara asked before her brain kicked in. ‘Oh. No. No, no, no… I’m not… I’m Tess’s business advisor.’

Deborah looked even more revolted by that.

‘I understand this is a difficult request, but consider the impact. Lending the reel could help Tess and her cinema reach a wider audience, preserving and celebrating the very art form that we all cherish,’ Zara said. ‘A whole new generation, getting to see Vertigo as it was meant to be seen? Imagine that. We’d certainly credit you, too.’

‘What makes you think I give a damn if some spotty teens see Vertigo?’ Deborah asked her.

Zara was taken aback. ‘But you collect reels. I assumed…’

‘Yes?’ Deborah smirked.

‘I assumed you cared about preserving the movies for future generations.’

Tess, having given up at this point, looked Deborah up and down. ‘She wants to own it precisely so no one else can.’ Tess realised that while she’d been speaking, she’d unthinkingly placed a hand on Zara’s arm. She took it back quickly and awkwardly. She’d never touched Zara before. Why she’d chosen now was a true stumper.

Awkwardness hung in the air for a second. Deborah’s smirk widened. Tess felt as see-through as a pane of glass.

‘Well,’ Deborah said with a lazy drawl, ‘this has been amusing, but I have things to do, so if you don’t mind…’

Tess’s jaw clenched. ‘I know it’s a lot to ask, Deborah. But I’m desperate. There, you can have that. I’m begging. It’ll make a cherished memory for you, I’m sure.’

Deborah leaned against the doorframe, crossing her arms as her gaze flickered between Tess and Zara.

‘You always have options,’ Deborah said smoothly. ‘You’re just too pig-headed to admit it.’

Tess frowned. ‘You want an apology? Fine. I’m sorry. I’m sorry I embarrassed you.’

Deborah raised an eyebrow. ‘I’m not interested in some insincere apology.’

Tess exhaled sharply. This was going nowhere. Her mind raced for another tactic, any way to get through to Deborah without turning this into another emotional bloodbath. But she had nothing.

Well, that wasn’t quite true. There was one thing. In the back of Tess’s mind, she’d known it would come to this. The one thing she vowed never to give Deborah.

But it felt like a pretty clear trade. It was this or fuck up the opening. And that would fuck up the new start. It could curse them before they’d even started.

‘If you lend me the reel,’ Tess said, feeling every ounce of pride she had left slipping away, ‘I’ll give you something in return.’

Deborah raised an eyebrow. ‘Oh? And what could you possibly offer me that I would want?’ she said, grinning.

Tess hesitated. Was she really going to do this?

‘The original German 35mm print of Wings of Desire,’ Tess said slowly, each word feeling heavier than the last. ‘I still have it.”

Zara’s head snapped towards Tess, confused. Even Deborah’s expression shifted, her guarded demeanour slipping for a moment. How could it not? Tess’s mother's reel was a true prize.

‘You still have it?’ Deborah’s voice was no longer laced with scorn but genuine desire. It was one of the rarest reels in the world, something even Deborah had never been able to acquire.

‘Of course. I wouldn’t sell it, would I? It was my mothers.’

‘That’s not why you kept it. You hung on to it because you knew I wanted it. And if you let it go, I might get hold of it. You couldn’t have that, could you?’

‘I hate you, Deborah, but not more than I love my mother,’ Tess told her.

‘But you’d give it to me now?’ Deborah asked.

Tess could see the greed in her eyes. She wanted this reel badly.

‘Yes. Because this is important. She’d understand,’ Tess said, hoping that was true.

‘One showing of Vertigo is more important than that reel?’ Deborah asked incredulously.

‘It’s not about Vertigo. It’s about giving the cinema new life. That starts with showing the film I said I would, at the time I said I would show it,’ Tess said. She didn’t dare look at Zara. She was probably wondering why she hadn’t already sold the thing. ‘It’s a win-win for you. You finally get your paws on my reel and in exchange for a reel that’s quite easy to replace.’

The silence stretched. Deborah studied Tess, her eyes calculating but less combative. For a brief second, Tess thought she saw a flash of the Deborah she had fallen in love with—before all the coldness and cutting remarks had poisoned their relationship.

‘And why should I believe you’ll hand it over?’ Deborah asked softly.

‘Come with me now. It’s stored at The Eclipse. Bring your reel, and we’ll do a straight swap.’

Zara shifted beside Tess. Tess risked a glance at her. She looked less pleased than Tess might have thought.

Tess turned back to Deborah. She uncrossed her arms, standing upright. ‘Fine.’

Man, this hurt. Giving Deborah exactly what she wanted. But Tess had to do it. The Eclipse was on the line.