Alice hadn’t realised it had been three years. It was Jules who would insist she was too busy on a transaction, or in the lead-up to an IVF cycle, to make a trip to Paris, but Alice was always secretly relieved, the thought of leaving her children, and Charlotte especially, too stressful. It explained Nina’s frenetic energy, Alice supposed, her desperation to recapture the magic of Paris while they were here, to make the most of it, but she didn’t need to do that. It was Paris. As low as she’d been feeling lately, there was still something about it; it got under your skin, it wasn’t easily shaken off. She took a deep breath, the air that skipped across the Seine catching in her nostrils, the waning light from the afternoon sun warming her face as Jules continued to implore Nina: ‘But coquilles Saint-Jacques, Nina! Your favourite!’ And Alice thought, Lordy, when did Jules last eat shellfish? Throw her a bone, Nina, for goodness’ sake.’

‘It’s a bit early to get started, isn’t it?’ Nina asked, but it was 4 p.m. and in previous times 4 p.m. would have been a bit late to get started.

Jules sighed, taking this hesitation as an enquiry as to whether she would like to be drinking, or not, so early in the day. ‘I’m totally happy to sit with a glass of wine,’ she said. ‘In fact, I’d like nothing more.’

Alarm persisted across Nina’s face. ‘I just think if we stop now, we won’t get any further than the end of rue du Bac.’

‘It is a very long road,’ Alice interjected.

‘But we’re only here a few days. Can’t we at least walk up to the fountains? Take a quick turn around the Jardin des Tuileries? And then we could swing by the Ladurée near the Louvre for macarons…’ she wheedled. ‘Didn’t you want to pick some up for Luca?’

Alice and Jules exchanged shrugs, although they each longed to sit, the sounds and smells of Paris washing over them, losing themselves in the activity of a busy city, albeit for different reasons.

‘Okay,’ Alice acquiesced, ‘but let’s go to the one on Bonaparte? It’s so opulent, I love it.’ She smiled, feeling cheered. At least if she were on the move, she wouldn’t have her phone out, re-reading the message from Mr Hough every few minutes, although that didn’t seem to stop Jules, who possessed a sixth sense for avoiding collisions with other passers-by, her eyes down, glued to her phone. Even Ted was on his phone less than Jules, and that was saying something. Surely she was allowed one day off work?

‘Shall we go to the cinema tonight?’ Nina asked as they reached the Pont Royal bridge and crossed over the Seine.

‘The cinema?’ Jules asked, aghast. ‘In Paris?’

‘We used to love going to the cinema!’ Nina’s eyes were wide, defensive. And it was true, they did, to the little cinema in a bright red pagoda with a beautiful Japanese garden, not far from Nina’s apartment.