As soon as Meredith was out of sight, Steph filled her glass to the brim and took it off to sit next to the swimming pool, where she stared into its Hockney blue depths. Funny; it was the swimming pool that had partly done for them. They could never use it when the guests were around and despite all they’d spent on it, hardly anyone swam in it anyway.

In the distance she could hear Meredith’s car start up. The thought occurred to her that now she’d lost her friends as well as her husband.

Next it would be her home and the business.

She downed her wine in one long gulp, stripped down to her bra and pants and dived into the beckoning blue beneath her, not even noticing how deep the water was.

Seventeen

‘You were back late last night.’ Philippe went on chopping without looking up. It always surprised him that such a good-looking boy as Jean-Christophe didn’t seem to have a girlfriend. He’d thought he’d seen a spark between Sophie and him, but nothing seemed to be happening. Maybe Jean-Christophe was too shy.

‘You must have been in bed early, then,’ his son replied.

‘Quiet evening in the restaurant, and I’d had a rough night before with Grand-père.’

‘Not running off again? You should have called me.’

‘No. He just wouldn’t go to bed, that’s all.’

‘To be honest, it was a strange night up at Fleur-de-Lis.’ He’d suspected something was wrong last night when there had been no sign of either of his employers when he’d arrived or, more disturbingly, when he’d left. Of course, they might have just taken advantage of his presence to go out to dinner.

‘Strange how?’ asked Philippe.

‘Normally I see David or Stephanie when I arrive and quite often both of them later on. Sometimes, of course, they are out and I finish before they get back.’

‘So what was different this time?’

‘Tu penseras que je suis complètement fou . . .’

‘Why will I think you have gone mad?’ his father asked.

‘Because it was just something in the atmosphere. Something cold, I don’t know.’

‘Wasn’t there anyone you could ask about it?’

‘Marcelline, who helps out as well, but she didn’t know anything.’

Philippe was about to suggest he ring Meredith, when Jean-Christophe’s phone buzzed. By the time he put it back in his pocket he looked genuinely upset. ‘That was Marcelline. She’s just gone in and there’s still no sign of either of them.’

‘Ring the château. Here is Meredith’s mobile number. That may be the quickest.’