‘I have to admit I’m surprised Sandrine still lives in the area,’ Belinda said quietly. ‘She was always moaning about the place, saying she couldn’t wait to leave and get a proper life.’ She smothered the thought that she, on the other hand, had never envisaged leaving, she’d loved living in Brittany – before that life had been snatched away from her.

‘She was working here the first time Laurent brought me and that was a good few years ago now,’ Fern said.

Belinda, realising she hadn’t answered Fern’s last question, decided a change of conversation was needed, otherwise her lunch was going to be ruined by ghosts from the past and the presence of waitresses in the present.

‘I’ve been meaning to ask, do you know anything about Bernie? He appears to be a permanent fixture on the campsite.’

Fern nodded. ‘Everyone in the village knows Bernie’s story. He was a surprise menopause baby. His two older brothers had left home before he was born and his parents, particularly his father, were resentful that they were back in the throes of bringing up another child that they didn’t particularly want.’ Fern sighed. ‘And when it was discovered that he had a bit of a problem mentally, they were, let’s say, bitter about it. You know the saying – it takes a village to raise a child – well, that’s what happened here in a way. Everyone used to look out for him and when his father threw him out about six years ago after his mother died, the village rallied around to make sure Bernie always had somewhere to go and something to eat. I think he’s been living on the site for about five years now, since his father died anyway. He’s a very kind, gentle man and absolutely marvellous with animals.’

‘So if I were to insist he has to find somewhere else to live and leave Camping dans La Forêt, I’d be labelled the big bad newcomer. Great.’ Belinda sighed. ‘He only speaks Breton though. How do people communicate with him?’

Fern gave a wry smile. ‘More people than you’d expect still speak Breton around here. And, between you and me, I think he understands basic French. He always seems to understand anything I say to him anyway. I’m pretty sure too that Alain speaks a little Breton.’

‘It doesn’t sound as though his continued presence is likely to cause problems,’ Belinda said. ‘And if it does, I’ll leave Alain to sort it out.’ She looked at Fern and hesitated. ‘I don’t suppose you’ve heard anything on the village grapevine about Alain? About why he’s gone to the UK this weekend?’

Fern shook her head. ‘No, sorry, I’ve not heard a thing. Not that I hear much anyway.’