Sophie dumped her bag in her allotted room, which was small but very pretty with a view right down to the river. ‘Ooh, this feels like a free minibreak! How brilliant. Actually, let’s hope it’s going to be a maxibreak! Come on then, let’s go and see your fairy-tale castle. I hope it’s not a disappointment after all this build-up.’

They set off along the riverbank, feeling the heat of the sun on their backs as they took in the lush, fertile landscape. Ahead was an arched bridge of honey-coloured stone, its mellow tones reflected in the deep green of the river’s smoothly flowing surface. All around them the birds were joyfully celebrating the arrival of spring and the return of warmth to the landscape.

And then, round the next bend, the château appeared, bathed in golden sunlight. Jo could just make out someone standing at the top of the sweeping stone staircase that led down to the terrace.

‘Wow, it really is like something from the movies!’ Sophie breathed. ‘It just oozes romance. Look at that staircase! It’s made for brides to come down. You just wait – if I get my hands on this place, every bride on Instagram is going to kill to have her wedding here!’

Seven

Sophie was charmed by the market and spent a good twenty minutes poring over the handbags being sold by the smiling trader from Senegal. Her favourite was a shoulder bag made of real leather and fake leopard. ‘It may not be a genuine leopard,’ the trader assured Sophie in the most sincere of tones, ‘but it is still real fur.’

‘You know, in this day and age with so many animals being threatened, you might sell more if you admit it’s fake,’ Sophie smiled back.

‘You really think this?’ The man looked at her as though she had just exposed him to a blinding revelation. ‘In that case,’ he smiled delightedly, ‘I will tell the truth about all my products!’

They stopped at a charming pavement cafe and Jo introduced her to the local speciality of vin de noix. Sophie sipped it tentatively.

‘What do you think?’

‘On the whole,’ Sophie wrinkled her nose, ‘I think I prefer Aperol.’

They wandered through the half-timbered, medieval back streets of Bratenac, past a cobbler’s that looked as if it had been unchanged for hundreds of years, and stopped at an antique shop where Sophie lost her heart to an enormous oil painting of a young woman looking out of the window of a castle tower. ‘Come on, let’s get it! It’ll be just right for one of the bridal suites I’m planning!’

‘Slow down, Soph,’ laughed her mother. ‘We haven’t even got the place yet!’

‘We will. Meredith is an irresistible force, right? Just wait and see.’

‘As long as Margot doesn’t turn out to be an immovable object!’ Jo replied.