‘And you didn’t say, “No, I can’t do it”?’

Donna looked down at her plate in shame. ‘No. I want to be the sort of wife who can cook for a dinner party. I didn’t want to disappoint him.’

Alexandra didn’t reply. She tried not to look reproachful but suspected she had failed.

‘Could you do it for me, Alexandra?’ said Donna, sounding very young and helpless. She was leaning forward, her long blonde hair trailing into her wine glass.

Alexandra thought about the short time she had to enjoy Paris. ‘But you need a proper French chef! There must be hundreds of them. We’re in Paris, after all.’

‘But do you know of any I could contact? The one who cancelled today couldn’t think of anyone.’

‘It doesn’t mean there aren’t any.’

‘Well, I realise that. But how would we find one in time for tonight?’

Donna had a point. ‘I agree it is very short notice – but there must be agencies we can try.’ Alexandra, who considered herself resourceful, realised that it would be nearly impossible to find a chef to cook in a private kitchen at such short notice if you had no contacts.

‘Would you do it for me?’ Donna pleaded, putting on all the charm, using skills that no doubt worked well on her father and Bob. Alexandra found she wasn’t immune, either. ‘If you’re not a trained chef, you have at least cooked meals before,’ Donna finished.

‘The thing is, I only have today to see Paris …’ Alexandra paused, thought for a moment – and decided that Switzerland and all it represented could wait. She had some money stashed away in the inner pocket of her handbag, traveller’s cheques she’d bought with the money she’d earned in London. Her relations knew nothing about it. She’d use that to spend a little more time in Paris. She was already booked into a very reasonable pension. She could send a telegram, tell her relations she had met a friend in Paris and was staying for a bit. After all, they’d done without seeing her much for years. A few more days wouldn’t make a difference. And where better to improve her French than in Paris?

She smiled at Donna. ‘Ok, I’ll do it. But with you, not for you, and I don’t want to be paid. The thing to do here is to buy your way out of trouble! The French are brilliant at ready-made food. We’ll buy pâté, lots of cheeses and a gorgeous dessert, and then all we have to worry about is the bit in the middle.’

‘You make it all seem so easy,’ said Donna. ‘I am so glad I met you. You look so glamorous, but you’re so kind. I’d have thought you were French if I didn’t know otherwise. Is your scarf Hermès?’