To assemble the tart, use an icing bag to squeeze the cream over the lower part of the brioche. The filling should be at least as thick as each of the two slices of brioche. Put the upper part of the brioche on top of the cream. Sprinkle with icing sugar before serving.

FIVE

Theresa found lunch service utterly depressing. Cruise days were always terrible. The customers were so used to the fine dining on board that all they wanted onshore was fry-ups.

Three tables had sent their panisse chips back, mistaking them for simple potato chips, rather than the delicious Niçoise speciality made from chickpeas.

How to start explaining?

It had certainly not been their plan to run a greasy spoon. And even if they did change the menu to cater for these people, where would that leave them on ordinary days when there was no huge white whale of a ship in the nearby harbour?

The locals wanted good food, well prepared.

She thought of Marcel, who ran the brasserie next door. After the service was over this afternoon, she would go there for a glass of wine and have a chat with him. He must have similar problems. It would be interesting to hear how he dealt with it.

Theresa found herself trying to compose a reply to another table which had just sent four tartes tatin back, wondering why their apple pie had arrived served upside down, when Sally burst into the kitchen through the back door.

‘I hate being insulted by people. Did you not listen to the order?’

‘I’m sorry, Sally,’ Theresa put the ice cream back into the freezer and dropped the scoop into the hot-water jug, ‘but I haven’t a clue what you’re talking about.’

‘The Ship-to-Shore or whatever it’s called.’

‘Hake, beans, toast and peas?’

‘Exactly. Or as they would have had it: baked beans on toast and toasted cheese.’

‘What?’

‘Exactly.’

‘If they wanted that why did they phone us?’

‘You tell me. You spoke to them.’

‘No, I didn’t. Carol took the call. As usual. I don’t do the phone.’

‘Whatever!’ Sally turned on her heels and slammed through into the restaurant.

The next half hour continued in similar vein. Theresa was very happy when the last order was called. She wiped down the tops and left through the restaurant. Carol and Benjamin were laying up for dinner, and William was at the desk totting up. No sign of Sally.

‘Shore to Ship not such a success, apparently,’ said William. ‘But she’s out now in the van, doing a home delivery to a local couple, so that should be all right. Carol clearly didn’t understand their Essex accents.’

Theresa didn’t want to get involved in another dispute, so she passed quickly out into the open air.

The afternoon sun was dazzling. Not bad for March. She took a deep breath and felt again the sudden delight at the beauty of the bay with its sparkling turquoise water.

As she strolled along the water’s edge, Marcel from the brasserie gave her a wave. Theresa had always thought him a rather good-looking man. Typical Niçois – lean, small twinkly eyes, swarthy complexion, with a head of dark curls, sprinkled with grey.