‘Something has to be done about those people,’ she says, then warns me, ‘Mind yourself on that riverbank path. You want to stay away from there – anything could happen. The sooner that lot get moved on the better.’ She looks at Carine, then at Henri, who is standing in the doorway, neither saying a word. No one seems to be agreeing with her, apart from her friends. Then she turns back to me. ‘Let me know if you fancy lunch, or meeting up in the pub,’ she says. ‘We’re here for you, for each other.’ She smiles and they leave.

We watch them go.

Henri shakes his head. I wonder if Cora or the shoplifter has worried him.

We finish our coffee and Carine pays.

We begin to walk away. ‘So, you are at the start of your new life,’ she says, ‘here in Ville de Violet.’ She links arms with me. ‘Let me know if I can help.’

‘Actually, Carine, there is something. I need to find work, a job. Do you know of anything?’

‘Not at the moment, but I’ll keep my ear to the ground. You could always turn your house into a chambre d’hôte,’ she says. ‘Have people pay to stay in a Provençal house, vraiment charmant. I’m asked about places to stay all the time. I could send customers looking to live in the area to stay with you, give them a taste of France before they buy.’

We walk slowly back to her shop where a couple are studying the window display. They’re clearly British.

‘People still want to come to Provence,’ she says. ‘And who wouldn’t? There’s sun, wine, herbs, lavender …’ We laugh.

‘I’ll think about it,’ I say. As we part, I know I’ve made a good friend in the town already.

I walk back along the riverbank, taking my time, carrying my bags. There are more people under the tree now. A group of younger people, with dogs off leads sniffing around. Some have dreadlocks, wear army surplus clothes, and a few are drinking from cans. Almost all acknowledge me.

I wonder if this was what Cora was worried about when she was telling the mayor that something had to be done. I walk on, catching a whiff of lavender from a garden.