“It could be a help, Mrs. Bristow. I don’t suppose you were playing the same game with the number plate?”

“Oh-no. I’m so sorry. Not his. Some of the others, but-”

“Well, never mind. And at what point in the journey did you see this van? Shortly before the crash, or-”

“It was a good fifteen minutes before. And he was going very fast. He would have been well ahead-unless he stopped, of course, but it was after the service station; I do know that.”

“So you stopped at the service station-that would have been what time?”

“Oh, about three fifteen. We moved off in less than ten minutes. My driver-and I would like to stress that he drove quite beautifully, in the inside lane at my request, all the way-needed some chewing gum and I offered to buy it for him, as I needed to… well, to go to the ladies’. I…” She hesitated. “I feel a little guilty now. About something I did.”

“Oh, yes? I’m sure it wasn’t too bad.”

“Well, I hope not. A young man-who I now know was the poor bridegroom, and of course he was wearing the striped trousers and so on, although not his tailcoat-he was in a terrible hurry, and he asked if he could go ahead of everyone in the queue. I’m afraid I… well, I wouldn’t let him. I said he should wait his turn, that we were all in a hurry for various reasons. I do hope that didn’t affect the course of events at all. It must have delayed him, perhaps made him drive too fast. One is so aware of how tiny things can lead to greater ones. What is that called, something about butterflies…”

“The butterfly effect,” said Rowe. “Apparently a butterfly can flap its wings in the jungle somewhere and cause a hurricane three days later…”

“Perhaps we should move on,” said Sergeant Freeman. “Can you give us your account of what you saw of the collision?”

“Well, this is where I really am going to disappoint you. I fell asleep, you see, and woke up as we stopped and the car behind drove into us. It was very shocking, and of course if we hadn’t been in the inside lane, it could have been very much more serious…”

She was silent for a moment; her eyes filled with tears.

“Take your time,” Freeman said gently. “Just tell us what you remember.”

She proceeded to describe with great lucidity the position of her car related to all the others near her, and to the lorry, and what she had observed.

“Pity all our witnesses aren’t that clear in their accounts,” said Rowe, as they drove away.

“Indeed. Those letters might be a help. I’m certainly beginning to want to talk to that van driver. Maybe we could get him mentioned on the TV programme as well.”

Oh, my God. Oh, my God…

Just as well God hadn’t answered that particular prayer, then. The one about the read-through being cancelled. They still hadn’t finally cast the grandmother’s friend and wanted her to do a read-through with the two they were down to, and she’d tried to tell Linda she couldn’t do it. But Linda had told her to get a grip, and thank goodness she had or she’d never have set eyes on… on Him. Not God, but still worthy of a capital letter. The most unbelievably gorgeous bloke she’d seen for… well, she’d ever seen…

Who was he; what was he doing here…?

And he was actually-God-actually walking towards her, smiling at her, saying, “ Georgia?”

“Yes,” she said, and her voice sounded odd, slightly squeaky.

“Thought so. I’m Merlin. I’m the second assistant director on Moving Away. So we’ll be seeing quite a lot of each other, once shooting starts.”

“Great!” Not the cleverest answer. But what could you say that was cool, but still friendly, in response to such a discovery? A discovery that you’d be working with someone who looked like a dollop of Orlando Bloom, a smidgeon of Johnny Depp, maybe even a sliver of Pete Doherty at his most savoury? Tall, he was, and very thin, with almost black spiky hair and dark, dark brown eyes and a rather narrow face, and really great clothes: tight black jeans and combat boots and a white collarless shirt…

“Great,” she said again, rather feebly.

“Yeah, it looks like it’ll be fun. Casting director’s been raving about you.”

Hmm. Bit of a luvvie. But then… what was wrong with that? They were in the luvvie profession, weren’t they? Her included. In which case…

“Thank you,” she said, and smiled. He smiled back. He had absolutely perfect teeth. “I’m pretty excited about it, I can tell you. Still pinching myself about getting it.”

“Have you worked with Bryn before?”

“No.”

“I have. He’s a great director. And he makes it fun too. Anyway, come on over, Georgia; everyone’s here.”

He steered her towards a group chatting together like lifelong friends. She recognised some of them-Tony, the casting director; Bryn Merrick, the director, of course; but not a rather scarily efficient-looking person called Trish, who was the producer-and smiled politely, moving round the group shaking hands, smiling nervously, saying how thrilled she was to be part of the production. She felt very shaky, partly because of being with all these brilliant people, partly because Merlin was… touching her. Even if it was only on her shoulder. Well, you had to start somewhere…

“Right, Georgia. A word…” Tony, the casting director, drew her aside. “Now, we’ve got two actresses reading for Marje. Both very talented, both very suitable-it would be very helpful in our decision to see how you relate to each of them. I expect Linda’s explained.”

“Yes, she has.”

“So we want you to read the same scene, first with Barbara, who’s already here, and then do a bit of improvisation with her-and then Anna is coming in later. Same thing with her. Oh, and by the way, Davina-you know she’s playing your mum-is coming in around lunchtime; she’s got a meeting with the executive producer, and she specially wanted to meet you. So if you can hang around for a while-”

“Yes, of course,” said Georgia. “No problem at all.”

The first read-through was fine; she liked Barbara very much-she was funny and fun, and put her at her ease. But somehow when they did the improvisation it became more difficult. Barbara made Georgia feel rather insipid and too low-key for her own part. She did her best, but it was a struggle.

“Marvellous,” said Tony as they finished, “thank you both. God, this is going to be difficult. Barbara, thank you so much for coming in. You like our Rose, then?”

“Very much,” said Barbara. “We’ll have fun, won’t we, Rose?”

Georgia said she thought they would and Barbara left.

“Right,” said Sue, “coffee, I think. Anna’s coming in at twelve-Merlin, could you get that organised, darling?”

How wonderful, Georgia thought, to be old enough and sophisticated enough to be able to call everyone darling. Especially Merlin…

Anna didn’t look so right, Georgia thought; she was rather beautiful in a hippie sort of way, with silvery blond wavy hair and intensely blue eyes, and was surely much too young for the part; but she was a marvellous actor. Georgia was amazed at the way she simply put on ten years with the first line she spoke. And she was surprised to find how she could relate to her in the improvisation, far better than with the overjolly Barbara.

Tony said all the same things again: a lot of marvellouses and thank-yous and how difficult it was going to be making a choice. Anna left. The four of them went into another room and Merlin grinned at Georgia.

“Well done. You were awfully good. Honestly.”