Met up with Simon, the fight co-ordinator, today, to recce St. Anne’s Well cafe. It became clear that they were never going to let us film in there, so after I’d indulged in a surprisingly reasonably-priced Cornetto, we headed Wyche-ward, to look at a possible alternative to the Foot-and-Mouth-closed Gullet’s Quarry. And very nice it was, though sadly not what I need for the film. For some reason we found ourselves climbing over treacherous rocks and risking death/wetness to see if we could get out the other end of the quarry. We could not. We turned back. And didn’t die. Thankfully. Our last port of call was Holy Well, much like St. Anne’s Well, only smaller, more deserted and – as it transpired – absolutely perfect for filming in. There was the spring, in what appeared to be the bottom floor of someone’s house, with a little room next to it – ideal for keeping hostages in – and even though it was a sunny Sunday afternoon, there was no-one around. I ask you: what more could you want? Well, you could perhaps do without the constant noise of the spring trickling, but – hey – beggars can’t be choosers. And round here, film-makers are always beggars. Now you’ll have to excuse me, because it’s gone 9pm and I promised myself I’d finish the final draft of the script today. Bye bye.