Fortunately, Jo reappeared at the same time and led them straight over to meet Liam. ‘This is Bill, father of the bride and general VIP.’ She had already explained to him that Bill was picking up the tab for everything. ‘And this is Maureen, Bill’s wife.’

‘Call me Mo,’ Maureen said with a smile. ‘Being in a castle like this, I feel I’ve been miscast. I should be the Wicked Stepmother, with at least a poisoned apple hidden in my pocket.’

‘Good thing you haven’t got any pockets, then,’ Bill teased her cheerfully. They seemed a happy pair, Jo decided.

‘Let me show you the wines, Bill,’ Liam invited. ‘They’re all grown here at the château.’

When Meredith arrived in the kitchen accompanied by an insistent Nora, Jean-Christophe unveiled the cake like a magician producing a rabbit from a hat.

And indeed the transformation was almost magical. The cake had been entirely rebuilt, its four towers now standing proud and erect, the roofs made of new ice cream cones and all the crenellations picked out in piped chocolate icing.

Nora nearly cried. ‘Oh my God, it’s even better than before. I could never have done all that detail. I haven’t got the right icing bag.’

‘Just don’t trying cutting up the towers,’ Jean-Christophe cautioned, laughing. ‘They had to be rebuilt with cocoa tins!’

‘I really can’t thank you enough, young man. You’ve certainly saved the day.’

‘As a matter of fact –’ Jean-Christophe avoided catching Meredith’s eye – ‘it wasn’t me. It was my father. He would have stayed, but he had to get back to his restaurant.’

Meredith struggled with the desire to say, ‘He gets everywhere, doesn’t he, your dad?’ and the knowledge that to do so would be extremely ungracious, not to mention unfair. ‘Please thank him from us,’ she said at last.

‘I think he enjoys being able to help you.’ This time he looked her directly in the eye and added: ‘If you’ll let him.’

Meredith put her hand on Nora’s arm to lead her back to the others, suddenly conscious of an overwhelming sense that it might be a pleasant relief to have someone to help you sort things out occasionally.

She was so shocked at this deviation from everything she’d ever believed that she pushed the idea firmly to the back of her mind and ignored it.

Everyone was now assembled for the wine tasting, except Ronnie.

‘She’s probably fallen asleep in the bath with a glass of champagne,’ suggested Nicky.

‘Only if she brought her own.’ Sophie sighed. ‘I’d better go and have a look.’

But there was no need. Moments later, Ronnie swept into the room wearing a floral silk maxi dress in day-glo shades of bright strawberry pink, green and turquoise, which she had teemed with strawberry pink sandals.

‘Oh my God,’ murmured Nicky. ‘I wonder what she’s planning for tomorrow.’