‘I’ve never met the châtelaine of a château before.’ Philippe bowed again, the twinkle back in his dark brown eyes. ‘Welcome to Bratenac. I hope you will be very happy here.’

Sam Andrews’ documents arrived by scan the next day and were immensely helpful in speeding things up. And when the duke and duchess grasped that Meredith would be a cash buyer, things started to move surprisingly quickly.

Not long after, Meredith got a call from Monsieur Martel, the lawyer. ‘Madame Harding, I have good news. The necessary permits have been agreed and the duke and duchess have agreed to your offer. We will soon be ready to sign the acte de vente. Perhaps you and Madame Walker could come to my office next Tuesday morning?’

Deciding that she really ought to look the part, Jo celebrated by buying herself a new dress from the rack for sale in the tabac. Only in France, she told herself, would the tobacconist sell frocks, and not only that, elegant smart ones at that. She chose a dramatic one in red linen decorated with soft circles.

Meredith sported the look she had honed to perfection: chic but businesslike. It had a lot to do with cut and colour. The cut was always strict and the colour always between caramel and cappuccino.

‘Congratulations,’ smiled Monsieur Martel, when the signing was over. ‘You are now the distinguished owner of the Château de St Savarin!’

As they came out of the lawyer’s office, Jo got a text that the others were waiting in the Café de la Paix with a celebratory bottle of champagne. For once the cafe seemed to be unencumbered by the Bratenac Ladies’ Luncheon Club, though with Guillaume smiling and twirling his moustache behind the bar, the news would very soon be reaching them.

‘To weddings!’ Meredith raised her glass. ‘Long may they flourish!’

‘Not that we’re the best examples ourselves,’ giggled Jo. ‘I’m divorced and you’ve never even married!’

‘You don’t have to practise something yourself to believe in it!’ Meredith replied sternly, then started to giggle too. ‘It’s all still a bit of a surprise, to tell you the truth. And then I think of what my dad would make of me buying our château, and I just have to laugh!’

Jo raised her glass again. ‘To Meredith’s dad!’ she toasted. ‘Smiling down at us from heaven!’

‘What’s that, Dad?’ Meredith made as if listening to a voice from on high. ‘Stop drinking all this bloody champagne and get down to it?’ She turned to the others. ‘You heard what the man said, it’s all work from now on!’