Steph wished she could agree. Somehow lately she’d lost the feeling of loving her life and instead wondered what the hell had happened to it. And now she’d better go home and get ready for the arrival of her annoying sister, as well as coping with a houseful of demanding guests. She wondered if she should point out that dealing with Ronnie might be hellish rather than exciting, but somehow it didn’t seem fair. She’d get back and have a large glass of rosé to take her mind off it. Dangerous, she knew, but effective all the same.

Meredith and Jo tracked Sophie down in the rather grand library she had adopted as her office. Sophie, the very essence of the modern young woman with her sleek laptop open in front of her, sat amongst plaster mouldings of mythical animals and several chandeliers that wouldn’t have shamed the Palace of Versailles, with a vast fireplace behind her supported by two nereids. Caught up in what she was doing, she seemed oblivious to her surroundings.

‘Do you know,’ Sophie exclaimed irritably, ‘Steve’s just told me we need a new safety certificate for every single fire extinguisher in the château! And one of the caterers says you need a licence even to serve orange juice, let alone our wine for the wedding guests! French bureaucracy is an absolute nightmare. Mum,’ she turned to Jo, ‘you should really be taking on some of this. I’m in charge of décor!’

‘Except that I didn’t know about it either,’ Jo replied defensively.

‘Well, maybe you should have,’ snapped Sophie. ‘After all, this is a business now, not a holiday.’

Meredith stepped in tactfully. ‘Look, we’re all learning and as we do, we can make the roles we all take more clearly defined. OK?’

‘Sorry,’ Sophie apologized instantly. ‘I shouldn’t have snapped. It’s just that I suddenly see how much there is to do. By the way . . .’ She put down her paint charts and gave them her full attention. ‘What do you think of the idea of getting Liam to offer a wine tasting as part of the wedding package – Heloise said it was very popular. A lot of châteaux offer that, and then have their own wines with the meals. They often do a special Cuvée Brenda, or whatever the bride’s name is. Isn’t that cute? We should do that too, don’t you think?’

She paused to take a breath while Jo and Meredith smiled to see her throwing herself so enthusiastically back into the fray.

‘I’ll take on the licences,’ Meredith offered. ‘And couldn’t you get Steve to do the fire extinguishers? He’s bound to have a buddy in the department; I promise you, Steve knows everyone.’

‘But he doesn’t even speak French,’ protested Sophie, unconvinced.