‘Good choice.’ Jackie opened the passenger door of a disreputable-looking Honda Civic. She moved what was clearly her butcher’s delivery off the front seat and into the already cluttered back one. All the seats, Meredith noticed with a shudder, were covered in dog hair. Meredith brushed hers off, grateful that although Nelly wasn’t the most beautiful dog in the world, at least she didn’t shed.

‘Sorry. I helped out my friend Janine when her car wouldn’t start. She’s a dog-walker, you know.’

‘And part of your little lunch group?’ Meredith found herself enquiring.

‘Yes. There’s myself and Janine; and Shirley – she’s happily married, amazingly; then there’s Mandy, she caters lots of expat events; and finally—’

‘And you’re all British?’ interrupted Meredith, not wanting to get to the subject of Suzi.

‘Yes – sad, isn’t it? Though Guillaume gives us French lessons, so we do try not to be your fish’n’chip Brits.’ She turned from the bumpy château drive onto the deserted main road.

Ten seconds passed before Meredith realized they were on the wrong side and screeched at her.

‘Oops, sorry,’ Jackie grinned unapologetically. ‘I do that sometimes. Steve says I’m making an unconscious statement that I want to go home.’

‘And do you?’ Meredith couldn’t resist asking. Jackie was probably one of those ghastly expats who called the locals Frogs and said they only stayed here because there were so many immigrants back home that you couldn’t tell it was England any more.

‘No, actually. I love it here. Bunch of bloody racists back in Essex. I love the weather and I love the French. Guillaume’s my best mate – apart from Steve, obviously.’

Meredith found herself wondering what it would be like to consider your husband your best mate, and smiled for the first time.

‘You’ve got a lovely smile,’ Jackie commented, looking at the road ahead. ‘Pity we don’t see more of it.’

Before Meredith could think of a suitable put-down they were parking outside the lawyer’s office.

Jackie switched the engine off and turned to Meredith. ‘OK, here goes. You’re worried about your friend Stephanie up at Fleur-de-Lis, aren’t you?’

Meredith picked up the strong impression that despite all her own preconceptions about Jackie, the woman was genuinely trying to help.

‘Yes, very.’

‘Well, so are we.’

‘Your friend Suzi isn’t exactly helping.’

‘No. And we’re worried about her, too. I think she genuinely feels something for him, and maybe he does for her, but they’re hopelessly unsuited. I mean, can you imagine Suzi thinking of David as her best mate, like I do with Steve?’

‘No, probably not. But isn’t that rather a high bar?’