‘Sally can easily do it,’ said a firm voice. Everyone turned to see who had spoken. Sally only heard a man with a heavy French accent. He was coming towards her, masked by the lighting boards. ‘I can vouch for her. She is an excellent helmswoman. I trained her myself in sea skills, and I signed her many certificates.’

‘And who are you, exactly?’ asked Daniel, to challenge the new arrival.

‘I’m the stunt driver.’ Holding out his pass, Sally’s friend Jean-Philippe emerged from the throng. She had rarely felt so delighted to see anyone in her life. Jean-Philippe had not only taught her seamanship but had often hired her to reposition boats for him when he was unavailable.

‘You may need to replace the Englishman. I could wear his costume . . . But, whatever, I think that Sally should drive.’

Theresa’s day was hell. Imogen, of course, under the circumstances and understandably, had raged and ranted at her for at least two hours before she could escape by the necessity of heading off to work. Theresa, on the defensive, accidentally repeated the phrase which had infuriated Imogen before: ‘Slowly, slowly, catchee monkey’.

‘No, Mother. I’ll tell you exactly what will “catchee monkey”, and that’s a bit of discipline and co-operation between us. We are supposed to be the adults, and Chloe the child. You are sixty, Mother. Not sixteen.’

Theresa wondered how soon before she was put into detention.

Just as she was walking out of the door to head for the restaurant to start the lunch service, she heard Imogen’s phone bleep. Imogen glanced at the screen. ‘Attagirl!’ She looked across at Theresa. ‘My secretary has been rummaging away and finally we now have the current mobile-phone number of Mr Roger Muffett. Excuse me one moment.’ Imogen stabbed at the phone, then walked towards the front window and gazed out, her back to Theresa. ‘Good afternoon. Am I speaking to Roger Muffett?’

Theresa could not hear the other side of the conversation, but as Imogen continued the call she understood that the reply was in the affirmative.

‘I am Neil’s former headmistress. That’s right, Mrs Firbank. Well, obviously what you do with your own child is your own business, although I should point out to you that it is illegal both in England and in France to keep a fifteen-year-old out of school.’

Roger spoke.

‘Ah. Neil is receiving home schooling, is he? From you? I see. And you are qualified in which subjects exactly?’

Roger spoke again.

Theresa knew she must go to work, but could not bear to miss the results of this call.

‘Hmm. Be that as it may, Mr Muffett, I feel sure that Neil could better profit from being taught the normal curriculum rather than that of the “School of Life” as you put it. But that aside, I am quite keen to prosecute you for another matter.’