Jean-Christophe studied the menu. ‘The quenelles de brochet look good.’ But the thought of pike made him think of Meredith and that morning by the riverbank with Nelly. He liked her and he knew that his father, unmoved by any woman for years, did too. Yet something had happened between them since his mother had reappeared in their lives. ‘Or the tartare of salmon. I will have that and then the beef fillet with the Perigueux sauce.’

‘And I will have the same,’ Lucille smiled. Jean-Christophe wondered if it was designed to flatter him. Maybe she just liked to follow suggestions.

She leaned in and offered him her melting smile. ‘So tell me all about yourself. I want to know everything.’

He had the oddest feeling that she expected him to be flattered by her interest.

‘After you left, we stayed in Paris and Papa looked after me with the help of various au pairs. But we were different to other people.’

‘You know your father was impossible,’ Lucille suddenly interrupted. ‘He thought because I was a waitress and he was the great chef, that I should always stay like that. But I needed more.’

‘One favour you did us –’ Jean-Christophe attempted a smile – ‘that also made us different to other people – we got to be good friends, not just enfant et père.’

‘And how about your grandfather,’ Lucille interrupted as if she didn’t want to hear any more details of their close relationship, ‘that wily old bastard, how is he?’

‘It was for him that Papa sold up in Paris and came back here. He said he didn’t want to give everything to his work any more.’

‘A pity he didn’t learn that a little earlier.’ He was surprised at the bitterness in her tone, sharp enough to pierce and wound, though he didn’t know whom.

‘And who is this woman, this blonde with the unpronounceable name?’

‘Me-re-dith.’ Jean-Christophe smiled without knowing it. ‘See, I have learned how to say it like a rosbif. She used to come here as a child and stay at the campground by the river with her father. It was their special place. He used to tell her he would buy her the château one day. And now she has bought it for herself.’

‘Ah, a rich bitch, hein?’

‘Not at all!’ Jean-Christophe bristled on Meredith’s behalf. ‘They were very poor. It was just a joke between them. But he made sure she had a good education and when she was older she made a lot of money in the East – Shanghai, Hong Kong, Singapore. And then he died and she saw a picture of the castle one day in a magazine and came to stay with her friend near here, and they heard the château was for sale, et voilà she bought it.’

‘You know a lot about it,’ Lucille commented acidly.