‘But you’re used to smart things so you can have them for every day.’

Celia looked at her. They gave each other a small smile.

Meanwhile, the person feeling the saddest of all about the piglets was marching into the village with a face like thunder. Phil was furious. Curse those children! They’d undone his plan and rendered his night’s digging useless! He was getting more and more frightened about Miss Topsey and Miss Turvey coming back and carrying out their threat. Removing his kidneys! But he needed them! They processed waste products out of his body and were vital to sustain life!! He gulped as he walked and gnashed his teeth when he thought of how close he’d been to persuading Isabel to sign. He felt as though he were living in one of those nightmares that you can’t wake yourself from.

Just as he passed the alley where he’d first met the ladies, he heard a little ‘oo-oo’ noise, like a cuckoo. He froze. He looked to the right and to the left. Nothing. He looked in front and behind. Again, nothing. Then he heard the noise again, above him. He looked up, half expecting to see Miss Topsey and Miss Turvey hanging from the tree branches like a couple of gigantic, blood-sucking bats. But there, in the tree, was a lovely little bird, its head cocked to one side as it sang ‘oo-oo’ sweetly at him. Phil gave a sob of relief and turned back, walking straight into the majestic bosom of Miss Turvey.

‘Hello, Phil,’ she said. ‘Have you missed me?’

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The Diary 19

We’ve been shooting in the bedroom today. It’s upstairs. It is therefore higher up than the kitchen set and, as you all know, heat rises. It is sunny. All the lamps are on. It is 44°C up there. The crew are all pink and panting, and the children, who are in pyjamas and under bedclothes have to be sponged down at regular intervals. I am in full costume so I won’t even tell you what it’s like in there, except to say that it smells like something died.

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I discovered that one of our excellent Runners (see Glossary), whom I have been calling Lauren for the past few weeks, is in fact called Laura.

‘Why didn’t you tell me?’ I shriek, aghast.

‘Because it doesn’t matter and you’ve got far too much else to remember,’ she replied smartly and without fuss. You see why one loves a crew. They work until they drop and then they say things like that. Amazing.

Later: We’ve finished in the bedroom and have moved on to another stage to do a bit of ‘green screen’. This is where you have to shoot something in front of a lot of green and then stuff is laid into the background by the FX team. In this instance, it is the fabulous Rolls-Royce (which costs £1,000 per day!) and Celia and Cyril doing a vomming scene, which they perform to comic and emotional perfection every time. They really are extraordinary, the pair of them. We’re packing up here at Shepperton because the next bit of the shoot is happening outside again, on a whole new location. It renders the place a bit like old digs at the end of a theatre job – full of boxes and cases (mostly my noses) and all the comforts of life packed away. Bit depressing, really, but we get a week off and then we go outside, which could be uplifting, depending on the weather. You can’t win. As soon as you go inside the studio, it gets hot and lovely outside. As soon as you leave studio, it starts to rain. It’s just what happens. Every. Single. Time. Ask Lindsay.

The Titans have packed up and left too, which is very sad. No more gold and silver Tupperware . . .

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The Story 19

Phil gaped at Miss Turvey in complete horror as Miss Topsey appeared from behind her and gave one of her silvery laughs.

‘Oh, Phil, we are sorry, we didn’t mean to frighten you!’ she trilled.

‘I’m getting it! I’m getting the farm for you, I just need a signature, ladies, please understand that I’m getting it and I will get it and then you will get it, please – there’s no need for –’

‘For what, Phil?’ asked Miss Topsey, looking genuinely mystified.

‘For what you said – my kidneys –’

‘Oh that!’ said Miss Topsey, waving her hand as if to dismiss the whole kidney affair altogether.

‘Oh, don’t worry about that,