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cheeks burning. ‘Blimey, they rubbed you up the wrong way, didn’t they?’

‘You heard what they were saying about Tony,’ I said. ‘They don’t even know him.’

‘Not like you do,’ she said, smiling knowingly.

‘What’s that supposed to mean?’

‘Nothing, just that you’re his best mate. Shall we go and get a cuppa? I reckon our scene’s going to get held up again.’

‘All right…’ I felt myself deflating. We headed over to the truck, where Gino was clearing away the remains of a breakfast buffet; they’d started filming early that morning, before we’d got there. We helped ourselves to tea from the big catering urn and sat at a picnic table.

‘So…’ said Debbie conversationally. ‘That were unexpected.’

‘Tony’s always loved animals—’

‘I don’t mean him wading in like a hero, I mean that six-pack.’

‘Hadn’t noticed it,’ I said, stirring my tea. She laughed.

‘I believe you. Thousands wouldn’t.’

‘What’s got into him, anyway?’ I asked. ‘Throwing himself into that lake for that stupid dog! It could have been full of pondweed; he could have got himself all tangled up in it. You saw how deep it was; it could have been dangerous—’

‘Would you have been this annoyed with Nathan if he’d done it?’

‘What? I dunno. Probably not. It’s his job though, innit?’

‘And that’s your answer, love.’ Debbie sat back, sipping at her tea in a self-satisfied – I’d go so far as to say smug – manner.

‘What are you blathering on about?’ I shook my head in exasperation. ‘Are you saying that Tony’s trying to compete with Nathan? Why on earth—?’

Debbie reached out and took my hand.

‘You know I love you, right? Don’t take this the wrong way, but for an intelligent woman you can be a right div sometimes.’

‘I’m not—’

But I didn’t get to protest any further because our attention was snatched away from the subject of Tony and what could be behind his sudden heroics by a loud cry of pain and surprise from the other side of the food truck.

Gino lay on the ground, clutching at his arm and howling. His normally tanned complexion was white and bloodless, and he swayed for a moment.

‘Uh oh,’ I said, ‘he’s either going to throw up or—’ He passed out, but luckily he was already on the floor so he didn’t have far to topple, and his head landed by sheer fluke on the soft (but smelly) bag of rubbish he’d been carrying. I squatted down next to him and very gently rolled him onto his side, into the recovery position, being careful not to touch his arm.

‘It’s all right, Gino,’ I said, as he groaned. ‘Just lie there for a moment until you feel well enough to sit up.’

‘What happened?’ asked Debbie, looking around. I nodded towards the stairs that led down from the truck.

‘He’s fallen down them, I reckon,’ I said, as Lucy arrived at high speed followed by some other crew members.

‘What the—? Oh, bloody hell!’ she said, looking shocked but also exasperated, as if she couldn’t quite believe what was happening now. I couldn’t blame her; the shoot had been eventful thus far, but not terribly productive.

Gino groaned again and sat up, crying out in pain as he moved his arm. I reached out and put my arm around his shoulder on the opposite side, holding him steady and upright.

‘I think you’ve broken it,’ I said, noticing the weird position his elbow was in and that the skin around it was already starting to look swollen. No wonder he’d passed out. ‘Can you wiggle your fingers?’

Gino looked pale and sweaty. ‘I can’t even feel my fingers, let alone move them.’

I looked up at Lucy. ‘Gino needs to go to the hospital. Right now.’ She looked at me for a second, probably debating whether or not to demand who the hell I was, then nodded and took out her phone.

‘My truck…’ said Gino. I patted him very gently on the good arm.

‘Don’t worry, if you let me have your keys I’ll lock it all up for you.’

‘But the food…’ he protested weakly. ‘I started lunch prep. It’ll all go to waste…’

‘Jodie’s a chef,’ said Debbie brightly. ‘She can do it!’

Tony and his film-star friend Faith had arrived on the scene, aware that they and Kimi’s soggy doggy were no longer at the centre of the drama.

‘Jodie’s a brilliant cook,’ said Tony enthusiastically. ‘I hired her to do my wedding.’ Faith looked at him, disappointed. I wasn’t sure if he noticed, but he followed that up with ‘Not that it went ahead…’

The ambulance arrived quickly and Gino was loaded into it. Before they shut the doors and drove away, he called to me.

‘Here are the keys to the truck,’ he said. He was propped up on a stretcher with his arm in a rough splint to stop it moving. The paramedic had already given him a shot of strong painkiller and he looked much calmer, although still pale. I reached for the bunch of keys he was holding, but he drew them back slightly. ‘Do you really know what to do? I’d rather let them eat takeaway than have someone who doesn’t know the difference between a zabaione and a crème anglaise loose in my kitchen.’

‘Zabaione is egg yolks, sugar, and marsala, while crème anglaise has cream, milk, and vanilla in it,’ I said. ‘Okay?’

He looked surprised for a moment, then smiled and relinquished the keys. ‘Okay, I’m convinced. Thank you. But I’ll be back tomorrow.’

‘Of course,’ I said. ‘Ciao.’

‘Ciao…’

The paramedic reached out to shut the door and smiled at me. ‘He won’t be back tomorrow,’ she said quietly. I nodded.

‘Thought not.’

Lucy rounded everyone up after the excitement was over, determined to actually get some filming done. But without me, as I was swapping being a pretend domestic for being a real one. It was time to get back to doing what I really loved: cooking.

I picked up the bag of rubbish, rounding up the trash that had burst out when it had broken Gino’s fall, and dumped it in the

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