Alexandra nodded. ‘It was a present from my uncle. When he came over to London last month, he realised I wasn’t a child any more and gave me something I really wanted to wear.’

‘With your mac, the belt you look sort of—’

Alexandra sighed. ‘I know. I’ve always looked different from other people my age. I’ve always gone my own way a bit, fashion-wise.’

‘I was going to say you’re like Audrey Hepburn. You’re so – cool. And very stylish.’

‘Honestly? So! Let’s finish our lunch and then sort out your dinner party. We may need to buy a shopping bag or two!’

But she couldn’t throw herself into shopping and cooking until she’d dealt with sending the telegram to the people who were expecting to meet her off the train in Switzerland the following day. First, she had to compose the perfect message so her plan to stay in Paris for a few days would seem to them like a good idea. Then she had to send it, which probably meant finding a large bureau de poste.

They stayed at the restaurant table, and Alexandra took out a dog-eared notebook which she had previously used to write down details of the antique bits and pieces she used to buy and sell as a moneymaking hobby when she lived in London.

‘Can I help with the wording?’ asked Donna after she’d watched Alexandra cross out a few attempts.

Usually Alexandra was good at telling her relations what they wanted to hear. When she’d lived in the family house in London, she had managed to keep from them the fact that she had no paid female companion. But this telegram had to imply that what she was doing was exactly in alignment with what they wanted for her. As their primary concern was that her French wasn’t good enough (they considered it too colloquial and rustic), this was what she now focused on, while emphasising she was only delaying her arrival in Switzerland by a short time. She had considered saying ‘a few days’, but then decided not to be too specific.

‘No, thank you, I think I’m there. What do you think?’ She read her efforts out loud.

‘Great! And while you’ve been doing that, I’ve had a wonderful idea. We’ll phone it through to Bob’s secretary and ask her to send the telegram.

Then we don’t have to wait any longer before getting going on the dinner party.’

It didn’t take much persuasion for Alexandra to agree to this.

‘After all,’ said Donna, ‘it’s a tiny thing compared to bailing me out of my predicament. You only met me on the sidewalk, we’re not even friends!’ She frowned. ‘Well, I hope we are now, but you know what I mean.’