‘Well, dear, you made a right cock-up of tonight. Benjamin and I have been discussing it for the last hour, and we both feel assured that a good mention by Odile de la Warr in one of those local magazines would have got the whole project rolling again. Instead we get another anonymous one-star diatribe. Odile obviously hated the whole experience and, thanks to you, the night was a disaster . . . And now we’re a laughing stock. And, yes, Sally, before you jump in to make excuses for yourself, I do lay it all at your clumsy feet.’

Sally tried to get a word in, but William was on a roll.

‘And as for those two theatrical types with her . . . Handled properly they might have given us a bit of prestige too. Not to mention the faux pas of the night . . . What were you thinking letting those awful chavs in, and losing us a whole table for the last service? This is not working out, Sally. You’ve bolloxed up the Shore-to-Ship deliveries, you couldn’t hack it for your one night in the kitchen, and now you’ve proved you cannot manage the heat of working front of house. So tell me: what can you do?’

‘I don’t know why every disaster turns out to be my fault.’ Sally felt seriously aggrieved and wished they could be shot of the restaurant tonight and never have to set eyes upon it again. ‘I was too pressed. Where was Carol? That’s what I’d like to know. It was too much to manage on my own.’

‘Poor Carol is still stuck up in La Turbie.’

‘What on earth is she doing up there?’

‘That’s another thing which counts against you. You’ve broken the delivery van, putting an end to one of the most lucrative parts of our failing enterprise.’

‘What are you talking about now?’

‘The van broke down up in La Turbie. According to the man who came to fix it, “somebody” forgot to put in any oil.’

‘I did put in oil. Last week.’ Sally sat upright again. Why was Carol trying to frame her? She thought they were friends.

‘Well, there was none in the engine tonight, and as a result the gearbox or the bearings or the big end or something has gone to hell. My brain clouds over when anyone talks about technical things to do with cars. But I understand money and the repair bill comes to nine hundred euros plus tax.’

Sally gasped.