Anouk had been of the opinion that Fabian could jolly well help as he was benefiting from the arrangement. When she’d told him that she was moving to the auberge and that he could move into the Huelgoat house, she’d insisted that he would be her removal man. Accordingly, he’d hired a small van, coerced a friend into helping him and loaded the few things Anouk had decided she wanted and driven them over to the auberge.

A chintz-covered armchair by the window replaced the cane one, a bedside table and lamp was placed on one side of the bed, a small bookcase on the other. An antique dressing table with several drawers went against a side wall and a cream deep-pile rug was placed on the floor. Once the pieces of furniture were in place, Fabian brought in a couple of boxes containing Anouk’s personal bits and pieces and the two suitcases with her clothes.

‘Shall I give you a hand hanging everything in the wardrobe?’ Fern asked.

Anouk shook her head. ‘Non merci. I’ll do some this evening before bed and finish it tomorrow.’

Together they unpacked the box of books and photographs, placing the books on the small bookcase and standing the photos on various surfaces. The silver framed formal black-and-white photo of Anouk and Jean-Marc on their long ago wedding day went on the bedside table along with the well-worn black leather bible. Taking a framed colour photo of herself and Laurent out of the box, Fern smiled remembering the day it had been taken.

‘I’d forgotten we gave you a copy of this,’ she said. ‘Our last holiday.’ They’d taken the train from Antibes along the coast to Monaco and spent a day indulging themselves with impossible daydreams: which super yacht moored in the harbour they’d buy; which prestigious apartment block contained ‘their’ home; which luxury car parked outside the Casino belonged to them. The photo, taken outside the Monaco Yacht Club by a passing stranger who’d stopped and asked if they’d like him to take a photo of them, had been an unexpected bonus. ‘We were so happy that day,’ Fern murmured, standing the photo on the small table before turning to face Anouk. Thankfully they’d had no suspicion of how any future happiness would shortly be so brutally shattered.

‘If there’s anything you’ve forgotten, we can fetch it next week. I hope you’re happy with the room once you’ve settled in,’ Fern said, glancing around the room. Somehow, now that the room contained Anouk’s things, including mementoes of Laurent, she felt reassured that inviting her mother-in-law to live at the auberge had been the right thing to do. Not only for the two of them but she knew Laurent would have approved of the arrangement too.