‘Excellent,’ he muttered. ‘You shouldn’t always jump to conclusions about people, you know, madame.’ The woman clearly imagined he’d spent the night drinking and carousing in some local hostelry. Funny, the other day he’d thought her rather attractive, and she must be very successful if she could consider buying the château. She’d made all her money in some place in the East, they said in the cafe – Singapore or Hong Kong. Funny how you could move on the world stage and still be small-minded. Pity.

She found his brown eyes fixed on hers in a disconcertingly direct gaze. And for once Meredith, the alpha female, could think of absolutely nothing to say.

Six

Meredith walked back through the small town of Bratenac, which was bustling with its Wednesday market, wondering what on earth Philippe had meant by that weird response. Why did he think she would care how he spent his drunken evenings? The vanity of the man!

Distracted by the sights and smells of fresh herbs and spices, rows of smelly cheeses and the inevitable jars of pâté de foie gras for which the area was so famous, she put him out of her mind. She passed a noisy scene with a British teenager accusing her parents of supporting disgusting cruelty – did they not know the poor ducks and geese were stuffed with food till their livers burst, just to make the stuff? – while the mother and father glanced nervously around them, imagining an international incident. This wasn’t an argument she would ever have had when she was that age; foie gras was far too expensive a product for her own family to have tried while they were here.

‘Bonjour, madame,’ a cheery tone greeted her. She turned to find Guillaume waving from the door of the Café de la Paix. ‘Congratulations about the château. I hope it will all go through, and you do not find – how do you say – bats in the belfry?’ He smiled at his own mastery of the nuances of the barbaric English tongue.

‘I imagine there will most certainly be bats in the belfry. Fortunately, we British are made of stern stuff. Thank you for your good wish; I hope my bid will be successful too.’

News certainly travelled fast. Was that Jackie standing behind him with what looked like an expression of triumph on her face? What did she know that Meredith didn’t?

Meredith gave them a faint smile then turned back into the crowds, disappearing into a convenient cafe, only to find that there was a large black-and-white and extremely slobbery bulldog actually sitting on the chair of the only free table. The disgusting animal, she noticed, was accompanied by Jackie’s friend Janine, who appeared to be in charge of it as well as about six others.

‘Do you think you could remove your dog from the seat?’ Meredith asked frostily.