New Beginnings. Fern Britton

she could see Julia’s eyes glaze over. Her agent wasn’t interested in excuses or explanations. She wanted results. She came to at the mention of Gilly and her apparent approval of the fated blue dress.

      ‘You must have misunderstood her. She’s a pro and would never have told you to wear blue. Never.’

      ‘She didn’t exactly tell . . .’ But she had lost Julia’s interest again. It was true that Gilly hadn’t recommended she wear the dress, but she certainly hadn’t advised her against it when there might have been time to salvage the situation. Perhaps their relationship was already more complicated than she’d realised. In future, perhaps she would be less trusting, more cautious. Christie said goodbye to Julia, who was dashing off to a first night in the West End, then hosting an after-show dinner at Sheekey’s, so had no time to discuss anything more ‘till the morning’.

      With her heart in her high heels, Christie returned to her dressing room to change. Unable to face going home to listen to Maureen reiterate Julia’s and probably the entire nation’s view of her outfit, she tossed it into a corner and zipped herself into the offending blue dress, ready to face the music in the bar. Once she was on the outside of a glass of wine, surely her faux pas wouldn’t seem to matter as much?

      She pushed open the door to a crowd of staff, most of whom were completely unfamiliar to her. She spotted Sam near the bar and began to make her way to him. As soon as he felt her touch his arm, he turned and his face lit up. ‘So you’ve escaped the wicked witch’s clutches at last. Well done.’

      For a moment, Christie thought he meant Gilly, but then he said, ‘The Queen of Mean? Oops!’ He winked. ‘I mean Ms Julia Keen, of course.’

      ‘She’s not that bad.’

      ‘No, she’s a good agent, I’ll give you that. But I’d keep her at arm’s length, if I were you. She’s scary. I know Ben was – well, perhaps, a little unhappy about her? And look what happened to him.’