‘How about we ’ave a truce? You deal with the paperwork, tidy the office, look pretty for visitors, make the coffee, and moi? I do the rest. D’accord? Black for me. No sugar,’ he added, nodding towards the kettle, before he moved across to the computer.

Knowing she was likely to tell Alain exactly what she thought of him if she wasn’t careful and that wouldn’t help matters, Belinda took her time unclipping BB from his lead so he could explore the office, before walking slowly towards the coffee making utensils. To her annoyance, BB made a beeline for Alain, who bent down to stroke him. Watching him stroke BB, Belinda remembered Fern’s comment that he was a lovely man, and that Lady liked him. Maybe it was just her who rubbed him up the wrong way? Whatever the cause she needed to sort it out.

‘That’s an awful lot of assumptions you’ve made about me, Mr Salvin, and my role here,’ Belinda said as she put three big heaped spoonfuls of coffee granules into a small mug, her back towards Alain. The friendly approach hadn’t worked so it was his own fault if she made her point another way. ‘So I’m sure you won’t mind me telling you that I think you’re an arrogant and pompous Frenchman with a serious attitude problem. Two things you need to remember though before treating me like the office dogsbody: one, I’m Nigel’s representative here and in charge of the purse strings. And two, we have to work together.’ She might desperately want to walk away but she’d told Nigel she’d give it a week and she would. Letting Alain walk all over her though was not an option.

The kettle switched itself off while she was speaking and she carefully poured water into the mug and stirred the contents. Good and strong like the French drank it. Belinda toyed with the idea of adding sugar but dismissed it as too childish. She was a troubleshooter for goodness’ sake – she could handle this situation without losing her cool.

She picked up the mug of coffee and turned round to look at Alain’s back as he stood concentrating on the computer screen. How the hell was she going to make this work? She certainly wasn’t going to kowtow to him by backing down.

She stifled a sigh before moving forward to stand at his side.

‘Coffee.’ She placed the mug carefully on the desk. Opening the bag of croissants, she offered it to him.

‘Non merci.’ Alain kept his attention on the computer.

Belinda took a quick look at the screen. ‘Is that an aerial photo of the campsite? How old is it? The bit you’ve zoomed in on looks far too well maintained for it to be a recent shot.’

‘Eight years ago. Before everything started to fall apart.’