‘Exactly. That’s yet more dosh draining out of La Mosaïque’s dwindling coffers. Or should I say empty coffers. The only thing we appear to be accumulating at the moment is debt and bad will. And now the choice is a new van, or hiring one for the foreseeable future. Oh, and paying Carol’s hotel bill for tonight. She’s stuck. The last bus left La Turbie at six p.m. and there’s no other way home but taxi, which would cost double the price of the B&B.’

‘I don’t know what to say, William. I’m sorry. Really.’ Sally sighed. What else could she do? Tonight she hated everything and everyone, including herself. ‘If I had any money I’d resign my share right now and pay for my escape.’

‘Dream on, love. The only income you have is us. And until that van repair is paid off, your pay is docked. Face it, Sally. You are a flop. Anyway – see you tomorrow, if you can be arsed to get off your backside and come in to work.’

Sally put down the phone, laid her head back on the pillow and cursed the world.

Her phone rang again.

She picked up.

‘Just bugger off and leave me alone to get some sleep now, all right?’

‘Sally? It’s Theresa.’

‘Oh, sorry.’ For the moment Theresa’s predicament had entirely gone out of Sally’s head. ‘Any news of Chloe?’

‘No. But I’m back home. Down the road.’

Sally froze. She hoped this was not really bad news.

‘Chloe is somewhere here, in France. And we think she’s in this area. It turns out it was some schoolboy she’s run away with, not a bald fat man, after all. I know it doesn’t make it that much better, but at least it’s not some mad old paedophile.’

Sally wondered why Theresa was phoning at two in the morning to tell her this.

‘I just wondered, Sally.’ Theresa lowered her voice. ‘While I was away have you let anyone into my flat?’

‘No.’

‘You didn’t give my keys to anyone?’

‘No. They’re hanging up in the cupboard in the restaurant cellar. I saw them there tonight. Someone had left me a pink rose and a heart.’

‘That’s strange,’ said Theresa. ‘That’s why I thought someone had been in my flat. There are pink rose petals by my door.’

‘Carol did see some man hovering around outside yesterday,’ said Sally. ‘He was worried about the acoustics or something.’

‘That might explain the noises, maybe. But not the rose petals.’

‘You don’t have a secret admirer?’

‘Not unless he’s keeping it a secret from me. Or has a key. You’re sure you haven’t lost mine, have you?’

‘I told you, they’re in the cellar cupboard. Could someone have posted the petals through the letterbox?’