‘You can, but I reserve the right to remain silent.’ Belinda looked at him as he carefully replaced his coffee cup on its saucer.

‘Do you remember that first day when you arrived and I told you I didn’t want you ’ere and you stormed off saying you, and I quote, “sure as ’ell” didn’t want to be ’ere. Why was that?’

‘As I remember it, I quoted your own words back at you. So I could ask you the same question.’ Belinda closed her eyes and sighed. ‘It’s personal and, actually,’ she opened her eyes as she spoke and looked at him, ‘I’d really rather not talk about it right now, especially in a public place.’

‘Fair enough,’ Alain said. ‘I was just curious.’ He stood up. ‘Let’s go. I pay the bill and see you by the car.’

A gentle rain was falling as Belinda waited outside for Alain under the shelter of a nearby tree. She glanced at her watch. Lunch had taken less than an hour. There was time to do something she’d been putting off ever since she’d arrived for one reason or another. And if she didn’t come back, would she ever have the chance again? Could she ask Alain to take her somewhere, no questions asked?

As he appeared and they got in the car, Belinda took a deep breath. ‘I’m sorry if I was rude back there. Would it be possible to take a short detour? There’s something I’ve been meaning to do for weeks, ever since I got here in fact.’

Alain glanced at her, curious. ‘You going to tell me why?’

‘When we get there I will,’ Belinda said quietly.

‘Okay. Where are we going?’

‘Huelgoat direction via the scenic route, not the N164, for about five kilometres.’

Sitting in the car listening to the mesmeric swish of the windscreen wipers swiping rhythmically across the screen, Belinda wondered if she was doing the right thing. She should have done this journey alone, not dragged a man who knew nothing about her past life along because she didn’t want to go alone. Alain wasn’t a total stranger, but it wasn’t fair on him. On the other hand, it was because of the question he’d asked that she’d impulsively decided to go. It would have been far more sensible to have asked Fern to have taken a detour when they’d met on Sunday for lunch.

‘Oh,’ she said, realising the crossroads they needed were approaching. ‘Turn left here.’

The narrow road twisted and turned, a tall church spire guiding them into a small village.

‘If we can park near the church,’ Belinda said quietly.

Alain parked, turned the engine off and turned to her. ‘And now?’ he asked, his voice gentle, his attitude concerned.

Belinda gripped the door handle and pressed it down, ready to push it open before answering.