Fern nodded. ‘It was and totally unexpected. I wasn’t looking for a new relationship but…’ Fern shrugged. ‘Laurent was very persuasive, with his tales of how much I’d love living in Brittany with him. We’d been married three years when he inherited this place from his grandmother, which gave him the opportunity to open his own place.’ Fern took a sip of her wine. ‘Mind you, I couldn’t believe it the first time I saw it. Talk about back in the dark ages, and that was just the furniture. Electrics, plumbing, decorating – so much had to be redone.’

‘How long did it take you to renovate?’

‘Fourteen months of hard work,’ Fern said. ‘It’s five years now since we opened.’

‘When do I get to meet your husband?’

Fern bit her bottom lip and blinked hard before she answered. ‘Eighteen months ago, a drunk driver on the N164 near Châteauneuf-du-Faou changed my life again.’

Belinda looked at her, stunned. ‘I’m so sorry. I can’t imagine how you must feel.’

Fern shook her head. ‘Numb is the only way to describe it. Some days the numbness lifts a fraction, other days…’ She shrugged. ‘Other days it doesn’t. C’est la vie – or rather it’s not,’ she added with a break in her voice.

8

The next morning, Belinda refused breakfast but enjoyed a cup of coffee with Fern before leaving for the campsite and her early meeting with Alain.

‘Wish me luck,’ she said. ‘I’ve got a feeling your “lovely” Mr Salvin is going to try and make my life as difficult as possible.’

‘Kitchen supper again tonight,’ Fern said. ‘And you can tell me all about it.’

‘Thanks – already looking forward to it,’ and Belinda, with BB at her heels, headed down the front steps to her car.

It was a lovely, spring-like morning. There was a light mist hanging over the valley and as Belinda drove into the village, the sun’s early rays were colouring the sky behind the hill in a pinkish frenzy. Had it been anywhere but Brittany, Belinda knew she’d be thinking how beautiful it was. The bakery was open and even with the car windows closed, Belinda caught the tantalising smell of freshly baked bread. Maybe a warm pain au chocolat would bribe Alain into being, if not nice to her, at least civil? Worth a try.

Five minutes later, she was driving out of the village, a bag of delicious croissants on the dashboard, out of reach of BB sitting beside her and sniffing the air.