‘They don’t count a picher. David says no one in Parisian banks wants to be sent to the UK or the US. What did St Joan burn at the stake for if it wasn’t to preserve the freedom to have a proper lunch?’

‘Did she?’ Jo asked naively. ‘I thought it was all about religion.’

‘I’m joking, you noodle,’ Steph laughed.

‘And why aren’t there any women?’

At that precise moment the door opened and the Bratenac Ladies’ Luncheon Club trooped in and ceremoniously sat down.

Guillaume instantly appeared with menus.

‘My God,’ Meredith whispered loudly, ‘don’t they ever go home?’

Jackie, still offended by Meredith’s tasteless joke at her expense, studiously ignored them.

Guillaume turned his attention to the three friends. ‘Votre plaisir, mesdames?’ he enquired with a raffish smile that made his moustache seem to curl even more at the ends.

‘I’ll have the duck rillettes followed by the wild boar and haricot soup and then decide in a while about the dessert,’ Meredith said crisply.

‘The walnut quiche and duck breast for me, merci,’ smiled Steph, ‘and I’ll decide afterwards about the dessert as well.’

Jo looked bewildered. ‘Are you having two starters, then, Meredith?’ she enquired, assuming the soup was a starter as well as the paté.

Meredith laughed. ‘The soup is actually a main course. They call it soup but it’s a very hearty stew. It’s delicious. Try it.’

‘I think I will. I’m starving after getting up so early. I’ll have the same as my friend.’

‘Très bien. Et pour boire? Du vin blanc ou rouge?’

Jo knew she should pass on the wine, but it was all so deliciously different from the usual dash for a Tesco’s Meal Deal.

‘The white for me, please. And some tap water,’ she added, trying to be virtuous.

‘Red for me,’ Meredith announced. ‘I may even have to have another with the cheese.’

‘Red for me too,’ Steph smiled, trying not to feel guilty about abandoning David to the LeBruns and their diarrhoea.

‘So what’s the surprise this afternoon?’

‘It wouldn’t be a surprise if we told you,’ hedged Meredith.

‘My father always used to say the best surprises are the ones you know about,’ Jo laughed.

‘OK.’ Meredith lowered her voice almost to a whisper. ‘We’re going to see round the Château de St Savarin.’

‘How fabulous,’ squeaked Jo, her voice getting louder in her excitement. ‘You mean that wonderful fairy-tale castle we passed on the river?’

Meredith could almost sense Jackie Brown leaning forward, straining with every atom in her ample body to hear what they were saying.

‘Yes,’ agreed Meredith, determined not to feed Jackie’s gossipmongering. ‘Now tell us about what’s happening with your horrible ex-husband.’