‘You don’t need to remind me of that!’ flashed Meredith bitterly. ‘Sorry, Jo, I shouldn’t take it out on you. I’m the sort of person who has to act, and I feel I’m stuck in limbo, powerless to do anything.’

‘Then do something! Be yourself. That’s why he fell for you, after all. Tell him how you feel. Sometimes you have to be explicit, even if it does involve a risk.’ Margot’s words, giving her the same advice, suddenly came back to Jo. She hadn’t exactly practised what she was preaching. All the same, she was sure Meredith and Philippe had been happy before all this.

‘OK, you’re right. I will!’ Meredith looked at her watch. ‘No time like the present. Before I lose my nerve!’

It was a glorious evening, so she decided to walk to the restaurant along the riverbank. Should she take Nelly? The dog, sensing the chance of a walk, was already on her feet and looking up at her mistress hopefully. ‘Come on, then. You can give me some moral support.’

The riverbank was deserted at this hour. Most sensible people would be at home preparing dinner, and that meant she had it all to herself.

She had only been walking for about ten minutes, admiring the stillness of the water and the shapes reflected in it, almost like an impressionist painting, when Nelly began to bark madly.

‘Sshh, Nelly,’ Meredith called out. At least there were no fish to frighten. And then she glimpsed a movement from inside a small fisherman’s hut a few feet from the bank. This was what had attracted Nelly’s interest. It was probably just an angler gone to change his rod or look for different bait. Then she heard a faint groan and decided perhaps she ought to investigate.

Behind the door, lying on the bare wood, was a rumpled figure of a man singing quietly to himself. Meredith thought she recognized the words of Charles Trenet’s famous song ‘La Mer’.

‘Bonsoir,’ she attempted. ‘Tout va bien ici?’

‘Non, madame,’ was the faint reply. ‘Je crois que je me suis cassé la jambe.’

Meredith rushed forward, realizing that it was Philippe’s father lying here with a possible broken leg.

‘Je suis desolé, madame,’ he apologized. ‘But I think I have lost my telephone.’

Meredith instantly produced hers, but Antoine was too confused to remember the number.

‘Don’t worry,’ Meredith reassured. ‘I can call the restaurant.’

Nelly decided this was the moment to offer not suspicion but reassurance, so she sat herself down by Antoine’s side and produced her most engaging smile.

Meredith dialled the number and waited anxiously, feeling faintly relieved that the old man had stopped groaning and was smiling back at Nelly. ‘Quel drôle de chien,’ he announced, stroking her neck.