Philippe roared with laughter. ‘He can be the sharpest tool in the box when he’s in the right mood! Do you know, I think this festival might be rather a success. Hard work, though. Are you sure I haven’t railroaded you into it?’

Jean-Christophe shook his head and grinned. ‘Contrary to your assumptions, I enjoy hard work.’

Philippe looked serious for a moment. ‘How is Stephanie getting on without her husband?’

‘Not brilliantly,’ Jean-Christophe shrugged.

Philippe sighed. ‘I was never unfaithful, but I certainly wasn’t the best husband, so I don’t think I should cast the first stone.’

‘Don’t worry. I’ll throw yours for you. Our generation is determined to be different.’

Philippe studied his son for a moment. He was thoughtful, considerate and empathetic, yet not at all soft. It was wonderful to watch. He wished their generation a lot of luck with making themselves a different kind of men than those who had gone before.

Perhaps they would even do it.

‘I’d like to call a meeting,’ Sophie suggested to Meredith.

‘What time? I’m pretty free this afternoon. What about Jo?’

‘What about her?’ Jo replied, coming in through the garden door. Her hair was damp, an attractive sprinkling of freckles had appeared on her nose and the top of both her shoulder blades were beginning to acquire a gentle tan.

‘Oooh, you’re going brown, Mum!’ pointed out Sophie.

‘I know, it’s getting really hot out there.’ Jo smiled a soft, secret smile.

‘You wait,’ grinned Meredith, remembering childhood summers where she’d stayed in the sun all day. ‘The climate here is weird. It can be blazing hot and then suddenly, just like that, there’s a hailstorm and it takes every grape off the vines in five minutes.’

‘Oh goodness, Liam mentioned that at the wine tasting,’ Jo exclaimed. ‘Sounds awful for the winegrowers. I hope it doesn’t happen often.’

‘Oftener than you’d think,’ Meredith decreed.

‘Anyway,’ Sophie reminded. ‘Back to work, girls.’ She went over to a large Louis IV cabinet and opened it. ‘I’ve made a chart,’ she announced proudly, indicating a flipchart blu-tacked to the inside of the door, ‘of everything that has to be done between now and the day of Nicky’s wedding.’

‘Oh, brilliant!’ Jo announced gleefully. ‘Once Sophie’s got a chart you know things are going to happen.’