‘Oh, hi sis,’ Ronnie replied, as though it were the most natural thing in the world for her to have appeared here from across the Channel in the company of Steph’s best friends, without having the good manners to tell her. ‘I’ve just nipped over to choose the flowers and I didn’t want to put you to any trouble.’

‘I can’t think why not,’ Steph replied with deadly calm. ‘It doesn’t usually stop you. So were you planning to come to France, stay with my very best friends and go back without even telling me? You know, Ronnie, I make a lot of allowances for you, but it doesn’t stop me sometimes thinking you’re a complete bitch!’

Sophie exchanged a telling look with her mother. ‘You know, Mum,’ she whispered, ‘I’m really looking forward to this wedding!’

Jackie sat in the Café de la Paix contemplating everyone who went past the window. So far, so bad with her plot. OK, Steph was no longer going to lose her B&B – but Suzi and David were still living together.

David must surely have realized by now that Suzi never thought about anyone but Suzi. She might have imagined briefly that she loved David more than herself, but that would be wearing off by now. Loving someone was hard work.

Jackie put the question to the rest of the Ladies’ Luncheon Club. How could they get Suzi to show her true colours and come back to join them – the friends who understood her and could put up with the selfishness – and let David go? She was already producing designs for the château, and that was a start.

‘Another man?’ suggested Mandy.

‘And where would we get one of those?’ Shirley protested.

‘You can probably order one online from Amazon,’ giggled Janine.

‘Make David ill, so she has to be a carer for a bit. She’d run a mile,’ suggested Mandy.

‘And just how would we do that?’ snapped Jackie. ‘Creep in and put poison in his porridge? This isn’t Miss Marple, even if Bratenac is a French version of St Mary Mead.’

‘I know,’ Janine suggested. ‘A Birkin bag.’

They all looked at her in complete mystification.

‘What has a bag got to do with anything?’

‘Suzi’s completely obsessed with them. She keeps a scrapbook of all the different versions and gets alerts whenever one comes up on eBay.’ Janine leaned forward. ‘She told me she wanted one more than anything else in her life!’

‘What exactly is a Birkin bag?’ asked Jackie, whose sense of what was fashionable had stopped developing when Biba went bust.

‘It’s a handbag,’ repeated Shirley.

‘I know that,’ Jackie replied impatiently. ‘But what makes it so special?’