I nod. “Small world. I remember a thin, dark-haired lady. She had the loudest laugh I’ve ever heard. It seemed too big for her tiny body.”

“That was her,” he says affectionately. He blanches. “Oh God, tell me she didn’t sleep with your father?”

“I don’t think so,” I say. He relaxes and I wink at him. “The same cannot be said for my mother.”

“Oh God,” he groans.

I start to laugh. “Does that make us brothers, Laurie?”

“Very dysfunctional ones.”

I laugh again. “So, how did you end up living in Saint-Paul-de-Vence?”

“She died and left me the house.”

“I’m sorry. She was a very nice woman.”

He gives a wry smile. “Not as sorry as my eldest brother. He was banking on selling the house to fund his wife’s shopping habit.”

“Oh dear. Not a problem that I’m used to. I am an only child and don’t intend to ever marry. Did he recover from the loss?”

“He had to. For a while, I toyed with the idea of selling it myself, but then I went over for the funeral and to sort through the place, and I knew I couldn’t do it. It was home before I even realised.”

“Sneaky things, possessions,” I observe.

We take a path that leads under trees, and the dappled light sends shadows over his face. It’s a funny face, I realise. Not immediately beautiful, but there’s something vivid in his expression that catches and holds the attention. As if your gaze would pass over him easily the first time but then, on a second or third glance, be caught and held.

His clothes seem to be worn for the express aim of comfort and ease. His jeans are well worn, and his T-shirt doesn’t bear discussion. But the denim clings to his long legs, and the T-shirt shows off his broad shoulders and the lean length of his torso.

But noticing that also brings my attention to how thin he is and the hollows in his cheeks that weren’t there last week. He’s also limping quite badly and his full mouth is drawn tight at the corners, making his face look older.

“Let’s turn back,” I say.

“Really?” he says in a dismayed tone. “You want to go home?”

I shoot him a sharp look. There’s a slightly frenetic air about him today underneath his easy-going humour. As if he’s using our trip to stop himself thinking. I throw off that peculiar notion and open my mouth to say yes to going home.