‘I’d love to join you, thank you, if you don’t mind it being just me.’ Of course I don’t! In fact, my heart and stomach are doing cartwheels, with streamers and hula-hoops. I beam, as do JB and Stephanie. There’s an air of conspiracy between them, and once again I find myself blushing and heading to the kitchen to dish up and hide my rosy cheeks. Wine is poured, a cut baguette is put into a checked-cloth-covered basket, and I pass around plates of lemony chicken with small roasted potatoes. Gratifyingly, Tomas picks up his spoon and tucks straight in.

‘To Henri,’ I say, raising a glass.

‘To Henri,’ they all say.

‘Cheers!’ says Tomas, clashing his plastic mug into the glasses.

I’m not sure anything could ruin my happy mood.

After our late lunch, we walk with the pots of food and plates of biscuits to the riverside clearing, Fabien insisting on coming to help. JB goes back to the brocante to put away all the goods outside and close, promising to bring the keys to Fabien at the clearing. We walk from the bistro up the street towards the river, and as we do, my eyes are constantly drawn to Fabien’s to find his are drawn to mine, like bees to the lavender, attracted to the flowers, needing each other to exist.

I have a strange sense of excitement, a shiver running up and down my spine, as if something is about to happen. Something unexpected.

We turn the corner to the riverside clearing. It’s busier than ever before. There’s a buzz in the air and I’m not sure what’s going on. And then I see it. My happiness evaporates, like a popped balloon.

FORTY-FOUR

Three yellow vests across the riverside path prevent us from getting to the hut as we stand holding the big pans.

‘Cora.’ I sigh.

‘And there’s more of us to come,’ she says, lifting her chin and pulling her oversized, fluorescent yellow vest around her.

I narrow my eyes at her. ‘What do you want, Cora?’ Just when things were beginning to work out well.

‘All of this, we want it to stop!’ she says, gesticulating at the busy riverside clearing. ‘This area was created for the townspeople. Not as a homeless hang-out!’

‘These people have as much right to be here as you or me, Cora. Maybe more. It is their town, after all. Now, please, let us pass,’ I say.

She lifts her head higher in defiance. ‘When we bought our place, my husband and I, we spent a lot of money. We were investing in the town, bringing prosperity.’

‘Cora, from what I’ve seen, you hardly bring prosperity. You don’t shop locally, always going to the supermarket, and you don’t support the local restaurants because you always go to the “pub”.’