‘Only kidding.’ She smiled at him. He still seemed jumpy and unlike his usual calm self. Who the hell had he got tangled up with? She knew it couldn’t be very serious or the gossip would have reached her in such a small place. Marcelline, who came from a huge local family that had tentacles everywhere, would have found a way of dropping a hint over the dishwasher.

Sitting in the cafe near her house, Suzi took a forbidden bite of croissant. She hadn’t eaten a croissant in ten years. Most of that Why French Women Don’t Get Fat stuff was down to watching your calorie intake with the all the obsession of a closet anorexic. Et puis merde! She was only eating it, of course, because she felt miserable as well as powerless. David was avoiding her. He wasn’t replying to her texts or messages, or even the cute little card she’d sent. She had to stop or she’d start to seem like a stalker.

She knew one thing for sure. She wasn’t giving up the best chance she was ever likely to get at her age.

Across the road she noticed a large pack of dogs, some of them dressed in ridiculous coats even though the weather was pleasantly warm. Suddenly they paused outside her house. They were a comic lot, ranging from a large wolfhound to a tiny chihuahua. They were with Janine. She must have come to see if Suzi wanted to come out. Except that she’d hardly do that with a huge pack of dogs with her.

Of course.

Suzi smiled at the obviousness of the ploy. Janine had come on behalf of the Bratenac Ladies’ Luncheon Club, aka Jackie Brown, to see what Suzi was up to.

Well, they’d just have to wait. The only thing she could promise at the moment was that it wouldn’t disappoint them.

‘What a funny little airport!’ Ronnie, wearing a typically subtle outfit in bright orange with blue chevron stripes, looked round the converted barn with a rather supercilious smile.

Steph, who had always thought rather the same thing about Bratenac’s facilities, found herself jumping to its defence. ‘We love it. In and out in ten minutes, and your bags may get wet but you never lose them.’

‘Is there even a loo?’ her sister demanded.

Steph thought of the deeply unattractive hole in the ground and the freezing water that gushed over your ankles when you flushed. Even she couldn’t see a way of putting a rosy glow on the airport’s toilettes.

‘Maybe wait till we get home. It won’t take long.’

‘I can’t,’ wailed Nicky.

Steph surveyed her niece’s white all-in-one jumpsuit with misgivings. Those things were hell to get out of at the best of times, let alone in a badly lit French toilet. She could already see how this trip was going to pan out.