While the computer booted up, Belinda made herself a coffee and found herself thinking about the last couple of weeks. The days had gone so quickly, it was hard to believe that this would be her third week at Camping dans La Forêt. Another two and she would be heading home for the Easter holiday rush in the hotels and spending time with Chloe and the twins. She knew Alain was planning on having some of the caravan places and tent pitches open for the holidays as a trial run before the official opening on the first of June. Part of her was disappointed that she’d be missing the arrival of these first visitors, but Belinda was longing to see the family again, even if only for a week. Skype calls just weren’t the same.

Outside, she could hear voices and car doors slamming as the men working outside and the cleaners arrived. Today, the men were pressure-washing the area down by the café and the cleaners were going to start on the last of the cabins. She’d give both teams half an hour and then wander down and see how they were all doing, make sure they had all the tools they needed as Alain wasn’t here.

The morning passed quickly as Belinda did admin jobs on the computer, checked out a couple of suppliers and did some more work updating the website. She was about to start researching the location of the nearest makers and distributors of pods and tree houses when BB pricked his ears and she heard a car door slam. Alain was back.

But it was a stranger who opened the office door and gave her a cheerful ‘Bonjour’ as he walked in. He held out his hand for her to shake. ‘Hervé Bois.’

‘Belinda Marshall. Bonjour,’ Belinda answered, wondering if she was supposed to know who this smartly dressed and good-looking Frenchman was.

‘Alain out on the site?’ Hervé asked.

‘No. Was he expecting you?’

‘I said I’d pop in sometime to discuss something with him. Any idea when he’ll be here?’

Belinda shook her head. ‘Afraid not. Was it something to do with the campsite you wanted to discuss or something personal? If it’s about the site, maybe I can help.’

‘Has Alain employed you to help run the place?’ Hervé asked.

Belinda gave him a ‘we’re not amused by that remark’ look straight out of her French grandmother’s repertoire. ‘Alain and I are joint managers for the new owners. So, is it business or personal? If it’s personal, then I’m sorry I can’t help, so I’ll say goodbye.’ Her voice sounded sharper than she intended, but she needed to dispel the man’s notion that Alain was in charge here and that she was merely his employee.