Héloise led them into a palatial room where the bath stood on a platform surrounded by silk drapes.

‘Very Marie Antoinette,’ commented Meredith drily. ‘I like it, though, especially the view of the grounds and the river. I can just picture myself looking out with a glass of champagne!’

Steph glanced in surprise at her old friend. Bloody hell, she thought – she really seems to be serious about this.

‘Now, mesdames –’ Héloise gestured at her surroundings – ‘I will leave you alone for a short while so that you can look around for yourselves. Would you like to join the duke, duchess and myself for a petit apéro at, say, five o’clock?’ She swept out without waiting for an answer.

She had hardly shut the door when Steph rounded excitedly on her friend.

‘Come on, then, Meredith. What’s the verdict? Are you really going to try and buy it?

Five

David dropped one of his packages as he pushed open the door of the Café de la Paix. Steph had given him a long list of things she needed before she went gadding off looking at bloody châteaux and it had taken him all afternoon to find them. He was feeling hard done by, but as he found a seat at the long wooden bar he told himself he was being unfair. Her best friends were over, and seeing them had really cheered her up.

‘I think you dropped this.’ A sultry voice interrupted his thoughts. He turned to find a dark-haired woman of indeterminate age in a short skirt and a leopard-print blouse that seemed rather low-cut for this time of the afternoon. She was holding out the fresh coriander from Steph’s list that he had visited three different shops to track down.

‘Hi,’ she continued, inching closer to him. ‘I’m Suzi, Jackie Brown’s friend. I’m sure we must have met before. We’re both rather wicked to be drinking in the afternoon when good and honest citizens are at work, aren’t we?’

She sat down next to David before he could offer any resistance, not that he was sure he wanted to. If Steph was having fun, wasn’t he entitled to a little as well before he faced the bloody LeBruns and their son’s diarrhoea?

‘What are you having? Guillaume,’ she called out. ‘A large red for me and – what was it you said you wanted?’

‘I didn’t . . . but yes, OK, a demi-pression would be nice.’

Guillaume poured David’s beer, directing an old-fashioned look at Suzi. She was only doing this because Jackie wasn’t here. She wouldn’t have dared otherwise, as they both knew perfectly well. Guillaume wondered if he ought to deputize for Jackie; but he was French, after all, and no enforcer of suburban English values. If two people wanted to have a flirtation in the afternoon, why should he stop them? Besides, business was business.