The lights were hot; perspiration was evident beneath Aidan Tobias’ make-up, and my armpits and waist felt damp beneath my heavy costume. Perhaps, among all the innovations of the twentieth century, women’s light clothing was the truly revolutionary one. The thought made me smile.

“Lovely smile, Miss Hope, but unnecessary,” called Dennis. “This is only a lighting test.”

Admonished, I straightened my face.

“Oh, come on, Dennis, it’s her first day, don’t y’know.” Aidan seemed to be exaggerating his upper-class drawl. “Grant the poor girl a nervous grin if she wants one, can’t you?”

“I am not nervous,” I told him coldly. “Not in the least.”

“Why were you smiling, then?”

“That has nothing to do with you,” I said, gathering courage. “And since it was unnecessary anyway, as Dennis says, it is not worth discussing.”

He stood back and looked at me approvingly. “You’re quite plucky, aren’t you?”

“And you are very rude.”

“Er … Aidan, would you get back into shot?” asked Dennis plaintively. “I don’t want this to take longer than absolutely necessary.”

The test filming did seem to take a long time. David scrutinized us closely, sometimes looking through the camera, sometimes not, requesting that Maria change the make-up under my eyes and make Aidan’s eyebrows “more sardonic”. Although he complied without complaint with requests to turn, look up, look down, move to a marked spot, Aidan appeared bored.

“Can we have a clinch? See what you two look like together?” asked David. He turned to Dennis. “What do you think? On the sofa, or by the window?”

Dennis pursed his lips. “Let’s test a shot in front of the window, for the lighting.”

Aidan and I were positioned in front of the window, which wasn’t a real window, of course. Lit from behind, we also had to be lit from the front or our faces would be in shadow. We waited while lights were adjusted, me patiently, my leading man less so.

“God, this is tedious!” He wiped his forehead with the cuff of his shirt. “When will they invent a light that isn’t hot as well as bright? It must be ninety degrees in here.”

“I’m sure it isn’t,” I said calmly. “And anyway, you must be used to it.”

He nodded moodily. “Too damned used to it, that’s the trouble.”

“Righty-ho!” came the call from the man whose name was Harry. I remained mystified by what his actual job was, though it seemed important. David and Dennis discussed each test with him before they filmed it, and it was Harry’s confirmation that everything was ready that started the filming.

“Now get together, you two,” instructed David. “You don’t have to look as if you mean it, but for Christ’s sake, Aidan, do try not to yawn.”

We stood close together, and Aidan put his arms around me. I had been expecting this, since we were playing lovers, and David had asked for a “clinch”, which every filmgoer knew meant a passionate embrace. But I did not expect Aidan’s hand to go to the back of my head and draw my face so close our cheeks were touching. His skin felt sweaty and sticky; I could smell smoke on his breath. My body felt tense, and weighted by my costume. It was not a passionate embrace.

David sighed. “Fine. Look into the camera, both of you.”

We did so, cheek to cheek.

“Look at each other.”

We drew apart, still with our arms around each other. I gazed into dark eyes, outlined with make-up but expressionless. Aidan’s nose and cheekbones, I noticed, were prominent. His face was that bony English type so sought-after by film directors. Not winningly open and handsome like David’s, but striking, especially in profile.

“All right.” Another sigh from David. “I suppose that will do. Maria, powder please!”

Maria dusted the powder puff over both our faces. When she saw the make-up smear Aidan had left on his cuff, she did not say anything but gave him a weary look. When we were powdered to his satisfaction, David took my hand and led me to the little sofa.

“Gorgeous, Clara,” he said. “Now, let’s try a rehearsal.”