‘Boys?’ she asked. ‘Did either of you see a large orange folder? It was Theresa’s photo album. Only it’s not here.’

Benjamin and William shook their heads.

‘Right. OK. I’ll just have a quick root about down in the cellar.’

But down in the cellar there was nothing. Someone had left a rose – a pink one this time – laid on a piece of paper inscribed with a large pink heart on the desk. As William and Benjamin were acting so strangely, she presumed it must be something to do with them.

Thinking of Theresa again, Sally realised that she should update her on the mystery of the bald man looking through the window. She went upstairs and out through the back door, moving along the narrow alleyway till it turned on to the open seafront.

To make the call she sat in her usual place, perched on the sea wall, looking out to the bay.

Theresa’s phone went straight to voicemail, so Sally left a message telling her that the bald man was just an English tourist snooping about who, as far as they could see, had nothing to do with Chloe, especially as he had just asked Carol out on a date.

She hung up and looked at her watch. It had been a conscious decision not to mention the photo album, which Sally felt sure must have got mislaid during the chaos last night, and would certainly turn up when they were looking for something else.

She had a good hour before she needed to be inside the restaurant. So she phoned her son Tom.

That was a mistake.

Tom told her in too much detail about some woman he’d been going out with, who had since dumped him. She was French and local. He loved her, especially as she was a conceptual artist and used her own body and its secretions and excretions as works of art. Feeling quite sick, Sally ended the call, claiming she needed to go to work. It sounded to her as though Tom had had something of a lucky break. She didn’t like to imagine what form those artworks took, but at least now Sally would be spared having to attend an embarrassing private view where she would have to scrape together enough compliments to satisfy the wretched girl. Adieu, and merci!

The sun went down and suddenly Sally was freezing cold. She saw the restaurant van pulling into the parking space, and watched Carol get out. Sally admired the way Carol always looked so well groomed, and loved how she shook her hair into place whenever she got out of a vehicle.

Sally followed her into the restaurant. As they turned on the lights, and started work, placing candles on each of the tables, Sally whispered how oddly tranquil both William and Benjamin seemed in the kitchen.