‘It’s not on my immediate to-do list. I’m fine.’

‘So it’s me then?’

‘Of course not! Don’t be silly. I came today because …’

He wasn’t sure why. Because of the pen game he had played with Boudu? ‘Because I wanted to see you. I bought a cat.’

Anne was looking at the man playing with his fingers.

‘How much was it?’

‘I can’t remember … forty or fifty euros?’

‘That’s a lot. Give me a cigarette.’

Marc did as he was asked. Anne lifted her sweater and tucked the cigarette inside her bra.

‘That guy over there kills cats. Birds as well. He says it’s his hands that do it, not him.’

‘Shall we go outside so you can smoke that cigarette?’

They sat under a sort of canopy. Water droplets clung to the edge of the roof, a kind of pearl curtain hanging between them and the gardens beyond. Anne had only taken a couple of drags on the cigarette she was holding, which had now gone out.

‘Have you seen your mother recently?’

‘Yes.’

‘How is she?’

‘She talks too much.’

Édith always had been a blabbermouth. He wondered how time had treated her. Since their divorce twenty years earlier he had only seen her once, when Anne had gone into Perray-Vaucluse. She was as beautiful then, and as much of a pain in the arse, as she had ever been. All he knew was that she was still living alone in the same apartment and worked in the property business. They had never made any effort to get back in touch.

‘You didn’t bring my Rocher Suchard?’

‘I did! Sorry, I forgot. Here.’

The chocolate had melted a little in the warmth of his pocket. Anne got it all over her fingers as she unwrapped it. She shoved the whole thing into her mouth in one go and chewed loudly, breathing through her nose. Marc handed her a tissue.

‘Wipe your mouth and fingers.’

All this achieved was to spread the chocolate further over Anne’s lips. She had the same look on her face as Boudu after lapping up his milk: satisfied, but disappointed it was over so quickly.

‘What time is it?’

‘Almost five.’

‘I’m going back. My programme’s on.’

They parted outside the games room. To avoid getting his cheeks mucky, he kissed his daughter on the forehead. She was the same height as him.

‘I don’t suppose you’ll be back?’

‘Of course I will. I’ll be here on the 14th, as usual. Today was just … a little extra.’

‘Oh. What’s the name of the cat?’

‘Boudu.’

She repeated the word, furrowing her brow, before turning on her heel and disappearing inside the games room. As he left, Marc heard the monotonous pitter-patter of a ping-pong game.

‘Twenty euros isn’t too much, is it?’

‘Not if you like it.’