I take the paper and promise I’ll be careful. My heart beats a little faster. But something in me needs to return the boy’s property to him and see for myself where he lives. I hurry from the restaurant, across the square, following Henri’s instructions, feeling him watch me as I go. I walk down into the dark streets on the other side of town beyond the square, suddenly very pleased to have Ralph by my side.

FOURTEEN

‘You’re a girl!’ I say, standing in the dark room, only a piece of thin material as a curtain covering the door from the hallway where people are coming and going, up and down the stairs, shouting to one another.

‘Putain!’ she swears, clearly taken by surprise.

‘I tried to knock. Someone let me in. I asked for Steph.’

There is another piece of fabric over the window, pinned in place to attempt to mute the light, but so thin it’s of little use. She is standing over a mattress on the floor, presumably her bed. There is an unpleasant smell about the place, could be the drains, and an atmosphere that matches it.

The whole area couldn’t be more different from the one I’ve just left, tucked away beyond the town, right on the outskirts, over the river. Walls are graffitied, there is shouting and a sense of aggression about it. A small, sad estate of forgotten flats, a far cry from the beautiful buildings in the town and up in the hills where Le Petit Mas is.

The girl eyes Ralph warily, standing with her back and arms across the corner of the room, protecting or hiding something. ‘How did you find me?’ Her hair is plaited, her hoodie top down now.

‘Henri told me where to come.’ I look around the little room. The area is squalid, but the room is clean and tidy, if sparse. There’s nothing here. The remnants of my biscuits lie on a small table. She follows my gaze.

‘I only took a few!’ She lifts her chin defensively. ‘You can have them back if that’s why you’re here!’ she says, with a thick, gravelly accent.

Distantly, I’m amazed by the fluency of her English. Her honesty catches me off my guard. I’d been ready to give a young boy a talking-to about stealing from people who are trying to make a living.

‘It was the end of the market. I just took what was going to be thrown away,’ she says.

‘Your English is amazing,’ I can’t help saying.

‘I went to school. I took myself when there was no one else to do it.’ Again jutting her chin at me.

Ralph barks. She drops her head, looks at him, then back at me. Suddenly I hear a small giggle.