‘Could we go again, quickly please,’ called a disembodied voice, as if their movements were being orchestrated by the trees themselves. He broke away from the group as it prepared to run once more, and set off down the hill holding his arms high, like a surrendering Indian.

‘Wait a minute,’ he called, ‘I have a question. Why are we doing this over and over? You can’t possibly see us from down there.’

A bearded man rose from behind the camera and stood with his hands against his thighs. The rest of the crew impatiently dropped their arms to their sides, siding with the director.

‘I’m trying to get you lot silhouetted against the rising sun, Mr Who ever-You-Are. Can you go back up at once please.’ It wasn’t a question.

‘I appreciate that,’ called Peter, continuing nearer, determined to make his reasoning understood. ‘You could bring the camera a lot nearer and still have the sun rising in the background. At least that way you’d be able to see us a bit better, give us a bit of identity.’

‘I don’t want to see you any better.’ The director separated himself from his assistants and walked up to meet him, ready for a fight. ‘You’re just a group of generic running people. You don’t have identities. You could be anyone. That’s the whole point.’

‘Well, nobody explained that

‘Because the sun rises fast and we wanted to get the shot quickly.’ He looked up at the hill. ‘But that was our last possible take, and now the sun is too high. I think you’d better go, don’t you?’

It was humiliating, having to walk away from a group of people who were so obviously angry with him. Upsetting the extras didn’t matter, but he hated falling out with the crew in case he found himself working with them again. Clapper loaders, first assistants and sound men freelanced in each other’s crews, and turned up all over the place. Sound crews were usually men because of the weight of their microphone booms, which had to be constantly held aloft. Peter liked crews and got on well with them. They were professionals, like him. Extras were nothing, starstruck spear-carriers who got paid a tenner a night for standing behind a throne through two acts.