He reddened and dropped his eyes, unable to meet her unwavering gaze.

‘Look, the thing is, it’s only a fling. And it was only a fling when I was with you. My last one before I settled down with you, if you want to know the truth,’ he said gruffly. ‘How did you find out?’

‘That’s neither here nor there. I just did. And you know, to hear a man say about a woman that he’s sleeping with that she’s of “no consequence” is pretty disgusting. I’m sure Amelia thinks she has a future with you – and why wouldn’t she?’

‘I never gave her reason to think that,’ he said heatedly. ‘It’s a casual thing. She knows it.’

‘Does she know that I’m back and we’re meeting today?’ she challenged him.

‘It’s none of her business—’

‘Marc, are you for real?’ Marie-Claire retorted angrily.

‘Ah you know what I mean,’ he blustered. ‘You’re the woman for me, Marie-Claire, no matter how many women I sleep with, or slept with. I love you! That’s what I meant when I said “of no consequence”. There won’t be anyone else if you come back to me, I swear it,’ he said earnestly, gripping her hand.

‘Marc, when it happened, and when we had dinner on Christmas Eve in Edulis – which was the day I found out about you and Amelia, by the way – I swore I’d never let you know why I left you. I wanted to keep you wondering. I know you love me, in as much as you’re capable of loving someone – and, strangely enough, I love you. But I can’t be with you. Not because you had an affair – although that was pretty shitty – but because you haven’t been honest with me. Even today, now, you had an opportunity to come clean and clear the slate, and you didn’t.’ She looked him in the eye. ‘I came back because I wanted to give you that chance. And, if you had taken it, perhaps to see if we could try again—’

‘We can try again. I’ll never do that to you again, Marie-Claire, I promise you. Stay with me. Give me another chance,’ Marc pleaded, and she knew that at that moment he truly meant what he said.

A clip from an old western High Noon, which she’d seen on TV a while back, came into her head. Talking of Kane, the marshal, Katy Jurado had said to a cowboy, ‘You’re a good-looking boy. You have big broad shoulders. But it takes more than big broad shoulders to make a man, and he is a man!’ It had resonated deeply with Marie-Claire because she knew that Marc – handsome, personable, successful though he was – did not, and never would have, that indefinable quality, that strength of character, that made someone a real man.