‘He does when he wants to think about something.’ Damn, she shouldn’t have even given that much away.

Ronnie instantly picked up the uncertainty in her sister’s voice. ‘You two are all right, aren’t you?’ she enquired.

‘Yes, thank you, Ronnie. David and I are perfectly all right.’

‘OK, OK, just asking. You’ll let me know about the room? Soon.’

It was more command than request. Oh Christ, what was she letting herself in for? ‘Yes. Bye, Ronnie.’ Steph put down the phone and closed her eyes. Maybe the girls could find someone else to have their wedding at the château.

She had just put her bare feet on the floor when her mobile rang. It was Meredith. ‘Morning, Steph. Just a quick one. Jo didn’t think we’d been clear enough when we saw you. We’re all really excited about your niece getting married here. The timing sounds just right, and much better it’s someone we know for our first time out. Especially if we can use the wedding pictures for promotional purposes. Do you think she’ll go along with that?’

All Steph’s thoughts about finding someone else sounded lame under this onslaught, even to her. ‘Oh yes, she’ll go along with that all right. I’ve just been talking to her mother. They both want to come over and have a look as soon as possible.’

‘That’s wonderful! I’ll tell the others.’

Steph closed her eyes. She hoped she hadn’t just made a mistake of epic proportions.

Eleven

‘Wake up, paresseux!’ Philippe nudged his sleeping son. ‘Time to get up!’

Jean-Christophe opened his eyes reluctantly to find his father smiling down at him, several days’ stubble blurring his chin as usual. ‘Let’s go and catch that uncatchable carp, shall we?’

He pulled himself upright and found a steaming black coffee thoughtfully placed at his bedside. ‘I am not lazy,’ he protested, sipping it as he pulled on his clothes. ‘I was cooking for the English last night till gone midnight.’

‘And how were they, the English, did they appreciate your efforts?’

‘Absolument,’ Jean-Christophe nodded. ‘They ate everything, even the vegetarian choice!’ He knew perfectly well there was only one English person who interested his father and she was tucked away up at the château, but he couldn’t resist this dig at Philippe’s reluctance to go veggie, at least for part of his menu.

He watched as his father packed coffee, a fresh baguette, hooks, sweetcorn, hempseed and raw minced steak into his knapsack.

‘Alors, he likes steak tartare, this uncatchable carp?’

‘He is French, after all,’ grinned Philippe. ‘Maybe not understanding this is why no one has succeeded in catching him.’ He reached for two pairs of waterproof waders. ‘Grand-père always talked of this monster fish when he took me out as a boy. Maybe he was related to our fish.’

‘So how heavy is this monster?’