'So I've had a word with Gary he's helping me out with the plumbing at the barn and he'll give me a half-day free if I help him with his kitchen cabinets. So I thought I could do it for you, if you like. What sort of shower were you after?'

'I hadn't really thought.'

'I noticed the base was cracked when I was in doing the floor, but they're easy to replace. But if you want it ready for the baby we'd better get a move on.'

I can't tell him it's not that sort of shower now or he'll feel like such a twit.

'Well, that would be great, but only if you let me pay.'

'Sure you could teach me to cook. I can't keep living on tins of soup and I'd like to learn how to do a few simple things.'

'Like boiled eggs and soldiers?'

He grins.

'Yes. And roast chicken, is that difficult?'

'Not really.'

'Great. Well, you give me cooking lessons and I'll sort the shower out. Shall I bring you some brochures in? I've got a few at the barn. Some of them are very pricey but there are a few good basic ones. You'll probably need a pump, though. What's your water pressure like?'

'Fine, I think.'

'Right. Well, I'll bring the brochures in and we can start from there, yes?'

'Great. Thanks, Martin.'

'No problem. I'd like to do one actually give me a clearer idea of what's involved for when I do mine at the barn.'

A proper shower that produces more than a tepid trickle wasn't exactly top of my list, but I'm sure it'll come in handy, especially since I'm going to be needing as much help as I can get in the waking-up-in-time-for-the-school-run department. And there's still a bit of money left over from the curtains, and I've got the money coming from the film people.

Actually, I'd better call Maxine and check what time they want me on Friday. I'm due to visit them on location, which is exciting; Ellen's still trying to come along as my helper, like anyone would fall for that. But the press interest in Jean-Luc hasn't really subsided, even though they've all run photographs of him and Grace kissing in a Paris bistro.

'Maxine?'

'Hi, Jo, how are you? Still baby on board?'

We were joking about those silly car stickers last time we talked: she's seen a Baby I'm Bored one which we both think is much better, so she's getting one for Ed, to put in his Porsche.

'So far so good. I wanted to check what time I should get there on Friday.'

'Around lunchtime, or earlier if you like.'

'Do you need me to bring anything?'

'Not unless you've got any Valium.'

It's a three-hour drive to the hotel in Sussex that the film people have taken over as their base, four if you keep having to stop for loo breaks. But it's a treat being away from Broadgate for the day, and I feel rather glamorous, off to meet my film-star client. That's one of the things I miss most about working on the news: feeling like a real grown-up, with a high-pressure job. If I order the wrong wool nobody really cares except me, and Mr Prewitt when he sees the books, and I do miss the pace sometimes, and the drinks after work and all the in-jokes. Not that I'd really change things, but still, it's nice to be out and about for a change.

Everyone's having lunch when I arrive, queuing up at a canteen trailer and sitting at a variety of tables in the car park. Maxine had already warned me it would be a bit shambolic, but I didn't think it would look like something the WRVS might have set up during the war: lots of people seem to be wearing Dad's Army costumes and there are boxes and piles of equipment all over the place. At least with news you only get a cameraman, or a van at most; this is more like an invasion.

I'm supposed to find one of the assistant producers called Rick, who will take me to Grace, but Maxine spots me first.

'Hi, Jo. Do you want some lunch?'

'No, I'm fine, thanks. This is so exciting. How's it going?'

'OK, the weather's been hopeless but we're getting there. Let's have some lunch. Grace is a bit busy, rehearsing with Jean-Luc' She raises her eyebrows.

'Oh, right, well, yes, please then. Lunch would be great.'

I'm sitting on a plastic chair eating chicken salad while a series of men in black-nylon-padded jackets check things with Maxine or hand her bits of paper.

'A quarter to five I'm not telling her a quarter to five.'

'Tom wants to get the light.'

'Well he can tell her then.'

'Is there a problem?'

A small, slightly dishevelled-looking man is smiling at Maxine.

'Jo, this is Tom, our director. This is Jo, Grace's knitting coach.'

'Her what?'

'Jo helps Grace source patterns and materials for her knitting, and she runs masterclasses too.'

I must remember that, it sounds so efficient and professional.

Tom smiles.

'What a great way to make a living; better than this madness. So Maxine darling, I gather Grace is having a run-through with Prince Charming. Is she going to be long, do you think?'

'Yesterday was my fault, Tom. I didn't give her the right time. I'm sorry.'

'Of course, no problem. Lovely to meet you, Jo. We'll see you later, I expect.' He wanders off, trailed by a gaggle of the black-nylon boys and a woman wearing an earpiece.

'Grace was late yesterday and he's still furious about it.'

'He seemed very nice.'

'He's a brilliant director, and not such an arse as the rest of them, but he's in his own head most of the time. He emerges occasionally to give everyone a bollocking, apart from Grace, of course. He fired two assistants yesterday, but they were doing a crap job so I don't really blame him. This business is full of assistants who think they're Special. Oh, and we don't call Jean-Luc Prince Charming in front of Grace. It's a joke the crew have got going, what with him being a Frog. They think it's very witty.'

'Right.'

'Have you got all the wool and stuff?'

'Yes, it's in the car. Shall I get it?'

'No, have a coffee first. Decaff, right?'

'Please. I've half-knitted a few versions, so she can choose, in air-force blue; is that right?'

'Great.'

'Where's Lily? I thought she'd be here.'

'She is. We've set up a playroom for her next to Grace's suite. She's loving it.'

The woman with the earpiece comes over while Maxine gets the coffee.

'You're the knitting woman, right?'

'Yes.'

'Well, get me the stuff then I need to take it to where we're setting up. And hurry up, would you, please I haven't got all day.'

'I'll just '

Maxine has come straight back over, without the coffees.

'Good, you've met Jo, VIP friend of Grace. We'll bring the knitting props over in a minute. We're having a quick drink first. OK?'

'Right. Sure, of course.'

'Actually, could you get us two coffees? There seems to be a queue. Both white, no sugar, decaff for Jo. Got that?'

'Yes. I'll do that right now.'

'Thank you. So much.'

'Crikey.'

'She's been annoying me all week. She's a total cow.'

'So shall I get the knitting then?'

'No. When she comes back you can give her the keys and she'll get it. Now she thinks you're a VIP she'll be all over you like a rash. There's something else I wanted to mention to you, actually.'

'Oh yes?'

'Grace is in London tomorrow afternoon, for a photo session. Vanity Fair are sending Daniel Fitzgerald over to do a piece on the film.'

'Oh.'

'He won't be coming here.'

'Right.'

'But I thought you'd like to know.'

'Thanks, Max.'

'Have you sorted things out with him? Sorry, I don't mean to pry, but Grace mentioned the letter. Have you spoken to him since then?'

'No.'

'Bastard. Well, just tell me, if you want me to give him a message or anything.'

'Thanks, Max, but I'm fine, really.'

'Good for you. But let me know if you change your mind. Oh, here she comes with the coffees. Have you got your car keys handy?'

Christ, Daniel, in London. With Grace. It feels a bit weird knowing he'll be in England. I'm used to thinking of him in airports off to exotic locations. But nothing's changed. He'll get in touch if he wants to, and if not, then that's fine too.

There's a fleet of black people carriers to ferry everyone to the river where they're filming this afternoon. Maxine tells me the scene involves Grace sitting under a tree knitting while the three evacuee children are trying to fish, but since they're not having much luck she says some magic words and they catch a trout. And then Professor Jean-Luc arrives.

There are people everywhere, and cameras and lights, and a man climbing up the tree to saw one of the branches off because Tom doesn't like the shape of it. Everyone's here except Grace and Jean-Luc, who are still in make-up. We nipped in to see them just before we left, and Grace was wearing a lovely tweed suit and having her hair put up into a bun. But there's no sign of her now.

The woman with the earpiece is giving Maxine a very frosty look, while giving me the occasional hesitant smile until a black car with tinted windows arrives, and Grace gets out, looking amazing. She's in full Diva mode, and sits down under the tree looking very relaxed, and breathtakingly beautiful.

'Quiet, everybody, please.'

A young man steps forward and raises his hand and everyone falls silent as he raises an electronic version of a clapperboard. There's beep as he presses the button and the clock starts.

'Scene Fourteen, take One. Action.'

God, this is so exciting. I'm frightened I'm going to make a noise or trip over something and ruin it, just like when you're buying second-hand furniture at an auction and you're terrified you'll end up buying a set of pottery owls by mistake.

I'm trying to keep completely still while they're filming the children mucking about by the edge of the river. It's weird, because even though you know it's not real, and there are all sorts of lights and big white screens and people standing out of the way of the cameras, for a minute or two all you see are the kids standing with their fishing rods in the sunshine and Grace smiling at them.

We're on what seems like the hundredth take of the kids fishing and not catching anything.

'Right, get the fish in, and can it look as natural as possible, please, no hey presto we're not making bloody Bewitched here. Grace darling, divine, as usual. Love the knitting.'

Grace laughs, but she really does look divine. The light through the leaves is falling on her hair, and Tom is kneeling down talking to her, and she's smiling.

Maxine hands me a bottle of water.

'This shouldn't take long. She only has to look at the kids again and then Jean-Luc arrives. An hour tops.'

An hour. God.