He ordered the coffee and she shut her eyes and let the hot Provençal sunshine warm her face and chase away thoughts of lodgers, her boring job and the tail end of winter which could take weeks to turn into a proper spring.

‘Oh, it’s you!’ Molly’s voice, strident with surprise, startled Thea into opening her eyes. Molly was frantically trying to disengage her arm from Gerald’s, but because of the large bag she was holding she was finding it difficult. Molly had an odd expression, which on anyone else would have been guilt. There was no sign of Joan.

‘Hello,’ said Thea, ‘come and join us. Did you buy anything nice, Molly? Where’s Joan?’ She was feeling more than a little sheepish herself. Sleeping with a strange man was always wrong, even if it was in full view of the public.

‘We’re just having some coffee,’ said Rory, ‘can I order some for you?’

Molly glanced at Gerald, then regarded them both with tight lips, obviously wondering if their sin was greater than her own. ‘Joan felt tired and returned to the hotel for a nap. We went back later – to see if you wanted to join us for a patisserie,’ she added quickly, in case Thea thought she’d gone to the hotel for any other reason. ‘And you weren’t there. I thought you were writing postcards?’

Molly’s strange behaviour made Thea wonder if she and Gerald really had been up to something when, until now, she’d assumed their flirtation was entirely harmless. ‘No, I took a few photos and then felt like some lunch.’

Thea could tell that Molly was longing to ask if she’d arranged to meet Rory, or whether they’d met by chance. She looked from one to the other, and then at Gerald.

Rory helped her out. ‘And I was lucky enough to see Thea sitting here and persuaded her to order lunch for me, too. My French is rubbish, isn’t it, Gerald?’

‘Tiger Tours don’t employ you for your languages,’ said Gerald, pulling out a chair for Molly. ‘Just as well, really, eh?’ He laughed heartily.

Molly might have been one of a string of handsome middle-aged ladies he dallied with on these tours. Maddening though her friend undoubtedly was, Thea didn’t like the thought of her being used.

Gerald sat down too and held up his hand. ‘Garçon.’

‘I’ll have a brandy,’ said Rory quickly, ‘and so will Thea.’

Thea was certain Gerald had no intention of ordering drinks for them as well as for Molly, but as the waiter wrote it down on his pad, before looking expectantly at Molly, there was nothing he could do about it.

‘I’il have a lemon tea, please, Gerald,’ said Molly, ‘if I may.’