Hands. That was it. That’s when I knew. Hands.

Hands, Cat?

It was seeing Luca’s hands.

What did you see?

That’s when I suddenly realized.

Realized what?

I’m going to say this out loud.

‘I know Ben’s hands off by heart. It’s his hands that I can conjure. I can’t recall the hands of Him – and is that surprising? After all, Rachel pointed out that He No Longer Exists. I can’t remember what they look like. Not even if I scrunch my eyes tight shut and concentrate. And yet I can envisage Ben’s hands effortlessly. It doesn’t bother me at all that I no longer know what that other man’s hands looked like. It’s Ben’s that I know. It’s Ben that matters. I’m going to find him.’

How easy should this be for Cat? Should Ben be in his room, reading, relaxed, receptive? Might Cat come across him right now, strolling along the beach, nicely contemplative? Maybe he’ll be having a quiet beer alone in a harbourside bar with a spare chair conveniently close? Perhaps he’ll be coming to find Cat as she goes to locate him. And they’ll see each other a way off. And, as they near, their smiles will spread. And they’ll grasp hands, kiss and confide and feel elated and go straight to bed.

Actually, Cat doesn’t even know at which hotel Megapac are staying and her booklet with that information is in the boot of the car parked at the salle de pressé.

Should I just phone him? Or perhaps Rachel?

Cat dials Ben. His phone is switched off and she has to work hard at not attaching great significance to this. She dials Rachel who gives her details of the Megapac hotel but who is not given the chance to have a chat or suggest a drink. Cat goes as directly as she can to the Megapac hotel, though she makes two wrong turnings and almost collides with an irate woman on a scooter. The hotel foyer is thrumming with fans and press. She goes to the lifts, scans the information of the team rooms and goes to the fourth floor. It is eerily quiet and she can sense that the doors are closed on empty rooms. It’s the Repos, the Rest Day, tomorrow, after all. Megapac have the perfect opportunity to celebrate their Stage victory in their first Tour de France.

‘Where would they do that?’ Cat asks Ben’s shut door, at which she continues to knock gently. ‘Where are you all?’ Cat goes to the car park in the hope that a soigneur or mechanic might be finishing duties. Why would they be? It’s the Rest Day tomorrow, the one opportunity for things to be put on hold for a night.

‘Well, I’ll just have to lie in wait,’ Cat says to the silent, lumbering team buses. And she does. For over an hour. Thinking what to say. Planning how to say it. Becoming word perfect, perfecting intonation, facial expressions, gestures. Soon enough changing her mind and her soliloquy. Now fretting that she’ll fluff her new lines and ruin the depth and sincerity of it all.