Marcelline debated with herself. Her cousin had told her not to divulge this information, since Mr Adams had informed the hotel he particularly wished to remain private. She might lose her job.

She looked at Steph again. Well, Madame Adams might lose her mind. Which was more important? Marcelline took a bold decision. ‘He is staying at the Clos de Lilas, madame, in case that is useful information.’

Clearly, it was.

‘Right. I’m going to look for him. Take out the îles flottantes in ten minutes. And move Mademoiselle Signac to Room Six.’

And with that, she was out the door.

Twenty-Six

‘Which room is Mr David Adams in?’ Steph, still out of breath from the dash to make it, enquired of the receptionist.

‘Je suis désolée but I cannot tell you, madame,’ replied the young woman.

‘What do you mean, you can’t tell me? This is a hotel, isn’t it?’

‘Oui, madame, but it is what the guest requested.’

‘How bloody ridiculous!’ Steph insisted. ‘I am his wife!’

Since the girl also happened to be Marcelline’s cousin and had instantly worked out who Steph was, she added in a low tone that a lot of the guests were in the garden enjoying an apéro before eating. Marcelline, she knew, would expect no less.

The receptionist watched Steph departing and silently wished her luck. She’d just got engaged herself, and still believed that marriage was for life.

The Clos des Lilas was a small and rather charming hotel built around an inner garden sporting a famously ancient lilac tree. There were tables and chairs dotted at intervals under the trees. Steph scanned them, looking for David, but there was no sign of him anywhere.

She was about to give up, imagining the receptionist must have got it wrong, when she caught sight of a small table at the far end of the garden, almost buried in woodland. David was sitting at it, reading a book and nursing the last of a drink.

She rushed past the other guests until she reached the bottom of the garden.

David looked up. At the sight of his wife, he almost jumped to his feet.

‘Steph! What are you doing here?’

Part of Steph wanted to tell him the truth – that she loved him and she missed him, and she had never appreciated all he did for her. But he had trampled on her heart and after all they had been through together, he had got involved with another woman.

‘We’ve had an ant infestation in the Oriental Room,’ she blurted instead. The things are everywhere, all over the bed, and the guest is allergic to ant bites. She’s absolutely hysterical! I don’t know what to do!’