I mean, she’s bound to need help, surely? And then we can start working together and bouncing ideas around, and I’ll edge myself in that way.

Both Suze and I are given directors’ chairs with Visitor written on the back, and we perch self-consciously on them, watching as they shoot the scene twice more. I can’t actually tell the difference between the takes, not that I’ll admit that. Ant keeps swigging coffee and staring into the monitor and shouting instructions to some guy with a high-up camera to the left.

Suddenly he swivels round and stares at me and Suze, then says, almost aggressively, to Don, ‘Who are they? What are they doing on my set?’

Don ducks his head down and I can hear him murmuring, ‘Lord Cleath-Stuart … financier … special guests … studio …’

‘Well, keep them out of the way,’ says Ant brusquely.

Honestly! We’re not in the way! I roll my eyes at Suze, but she has found a script from somewhere and is reading through it, mouthing lines to herself. Suze would really have loved to be an actress. (Or an eventer. Or an artist. Or a newsreader. She’s had lots of career ideas, to be honest.)

‘Dylan!’ The director suddenly raises his voice. ‘Where’s Dylan?’

‘Here!’ A mousy guy in a grey T-shirt hurries forward.

‘This is the writer,’ Don explains to me and Suze. ‘He stays on set in case we need extra dialogue.’

‘We need another line here for Lady Violet,’ Ant is saying. ‘We need to convey the gravitas of what’s happened, but also, like, the dignity of Lady Violet. She’s not going to buckle. She’s going to fight.’ He pauses. ‘Only in, like, three or four words.’

‘Right.’ Dylan is nodding anxiously. ‘Right.’

As Ant strides away, he starts scribbling on a yellow legal pad and I watch him in fascination. He’s creating a film, right here. We’re watching film history being made! Then suddenly an idea comes to me. It’s so good, I almost gasp out loud.

‘Sorry,’ I say, waving to get Dylan’s attention. ‘Excuse me. I don’t mean to interrupt, but a line came to me, and I thought you could use it. It just popped into my head,’ I add modestly.

‘Well done, Bex!’ exclaims Suze.

Dylan sighs. ‘What is it?’

‘With great power comes great responsibility.’ As I say it out loud, I can’t help feeling proud of myself.

‘That’s brilliant!’ says Suze. ‘Only you should say it with more passion. “With great power comes great responsibility,”’ she repeats in a low, throbbing voice. ‘“With great power comes great responsibility.’”

‘Perfect!’ I add to Dylan, ‘She went to drama school, you know.’

Dylan is looking at us as though we’re both insane.

‘That line is from Spider-Man,’ he says shortly.

Spider-Man?

‘Really?’ I wrinkle my brow. ‘Are you sure? Because I don’t remember it—’

‘Of course I’m sure! Jeez!’ He crosses out the line he’s writing and scribbles something else.

‘Oh,’ I say, discomfited. ‘Right. Sorry.’

‘Well then, what about, “With great grief comes great challenge”?’ suggests Suze.

‘Or, “With great trouble comes great fortune,”’ I chime in eagerly. ‘Or, “With great sadness comes great light.”’ I’m quite proud of this one, but Dylan is looking more and more rattled.

‘Could you let me concentrate, please?’ he snaps.

‘Oh, OK. Sorry.’ Suze and I subside, making faces at each other. We watch, fascinated, as he covers his page with writing, then abruptly heads over to Ant.

‘How about this?’

‘OK. We’ll try it.’ Ant walks on to the set and I can see him showing the page to the actress in the velvet dress.

‘Why don’t you just take the line to the actors yourself?’ I say as Dylan sits down.

‘I don’t approach the set.’ He sounds shocked at the idea. ‘The director approaches the set.’

He sounds like he’s saying, ‘I don’t approach the throne.’ Blimey, film sets are complicated places. ‘So, I hope you enjoyed your visit,’ he adds, clearly forcing himself to be polite. ‘It was nice to meet you.’

‘Oh, we haven’t finished our visit yet,’ I explain.

‘We’re going to be in the film!’ adds Suze.

‘We’re extras!’

‘You?’ He looks from me to Suze and back again.

I’m about to say he needn’t look so dubious, when Ant appears, scowling at Dylan, and chucks the legal pad at him.

‘Yolanda says this is flaccid, and I agree. Can’t you do better than that?’

Honestly. What a bully. I bet Dylan’s written a brilliant line. (Although not as good as ‘With great power comes great responsibility.’)

‘I was distracted by these two,’ says Dylan meanly, gesturing at us, and my sympathy instantly evaporates. He didn’t have to blame us! We were trying to help! Ant glowers at us, then glowers even more at Dylan.

‘Well, give me some more options. We’re taking five.’ Ant strides away, and Dylan frowns over his legal pad again, chewing his pen. The atmosphere is quite tense, and I’m relieved when Don appears and beckons us away from the chairs.

‘The actors are having a break,’ he says. ‘So I thought you’d like to look over the set before we head to Wardrobe.’

We follow him to the set, and step cautiously on to the carpet. We’re standing on a real movie set! It’s quite small, but really well designed, with shelves of books and a table with ornaments and a fake window with a velvet curtain.

‘Excuse me,’ says Don as his phone buzzes, ‘I must take this call.’

He steps off the set, and Suze sits on Lady Violet’s chair. ‘Kidnapped,’ she says in a mournful voice. ‘Kidnapped!’

‘Really good!’ I say. ‘D’you think Lady Violet’s dress is a bit bunchy? I think it could be more flattering. I might tell the wardrobe person.’

‘Kidnapped!’ says Suze again, and stares out to the camera, extending her hands as though she’s on a massive London stage and that’s the audience. ‘Oh my God. Kidnapped! Will our nightmare never end?’

‘Everything looks so realistic,’ I say, trailing my hand over a row of fake book spines. ‘Look at this cupboard.’ I rattle the door but it’s stuck fast. ‘It looks so real, but it’s fake, like everything.’ I wander over to the little table. ‘I mean, look at these cakes. They look totally real. They even smell real. It’s so clever.’

‘They might be real,’ points out Suze.

‘Of course they’re not real. Nothing on a film set is real. Look.’ I lift one up confidently and take a bite out of it.

Shit. It was real. I have a mouthful of sponge and cream.

‘Bex!’ Suze is staring at me in consternation. ‘That cake is in the film! You can’t eat it!’

‘I didn’t mean to!’ I say defensively.

I feel slightly outraged. They shouldn’t have real cakes on a movie set. It goes against the whole spirit of the thing.

I look around, but no one seems to have seen me. What shall I do now? I can’t put half a cake back on the table.

‘OK, we’re going again,’ comes a booming voice. ‘Clear the set!’

Oh God. The actors are returning and I still have half a cake in my hands.

Maybe they won’t notice.

I hastily leave the set, my hands hidden my back, and find a place where I’m almost hidden behind a stone pillar. The two actors are sitting back down on the chairs and everyone is gathering for a new take.

‘Wait a minute.’ A girl dressed all in black comes running on to the set. She squints into the screen of a little camera, then peers at the table. ‘What happened to the other cake?’

Damn.

The actors are looking around blankly, as though they hadn’t even realized there were any cakes in the shot.

‘Cake?’ says the man at last.

‘Yes, cake! There should be six!’ She jabs at her camera screen. ‘What happened to it?’

‘Well, don’t look at me!’ says the man, sounding affronted. ‘I never saw the cake.’

‘Yes you did!’

‘I think there were five,’ says the actress playing Lady Violet.

‘Excuse me,’ says the girl in black tightly. ‘If I say there were six, then there were six, and unless you want to reshoot everything we’ve done this morning I suggest you don’t move the props around.’

‘I didn’t move anything around!’ retorts Lady Violet.

I have to confess. Go on, Becky. I force myself to step forward on to the edge of the set and clear my throat.

‘Um, excuse me?’ I say awkwardly. ‘It’s here. Sorry.’

I proffer my hand and everyone stares at the half-eaten, crumby cake. My cheeks are flaming with embarrassment, especially when a chunk falls on the floor. I quickly bend to get it, feeling worse than ever.

‘Shall I put it back on the table?’ I venture. ‘We could hide the eaten side …’

The girl in black raises her eyes to mine disbelievingly.

‘You ate a prop?’

‘I didn’t mean to!’ I say hurriedly. ‘I thought it was fake, and I was just biting it to prove it—’

‘I knew it wasn’t fake,’ puts in Suze. ‘I told her. I said, no fake cake could be that good—’

‘Yes it could!’ I object. ‘They have amazing modern technology.’

‘Not that amazing—’

‘Anyway.’ A thought suddenly occurs to me. ‘Maybe it’s a good thing. Because would they actually have that many cakes?’ I appeal to Ant. ‘Six is a lot for two people. You don’t want them to look greedy, do you? You don’t want the audience thinking, “No wonder Lady Violet needs a corset if she’s eating all these cakes—”’

‘Enough!’ Ant suddenly flips out. ‘Get these girls off my set!’ He glares at Don. ‘I don’t care who they are, they’re banned.’

Banned? Suze and I exchange shocked looks.

‘But we’re going to be extras!’ says Suze in dismay.

‘I’m really sorry we disturbed you,’ I say hastily. ‘I didn’t mean to eat the cake. I won’t eat anything else.’