Later in the afternoon I’m sitting across from Duval at the kitchen table, going over pump-size requirements for the boarding house, when Benjamín opens the door and the children burst in from school. Seeing the dog in residence, Jack drops to his knees and propels himself across the floor.

‘Taco,’ he croons. ‘Taco, Taco, Taco.’

Under the table, the dog pricks up his ears. Sure enough, as Jack completes his Torvill and Dean slide, it snaps viciously. Jack snatches at his hand and starts crying. For all his tough talk, Jack is a bit of an old woman. Last week, for instance, when I tried to remove a splinter from his foot, the operation took nearly two hours. Nevertheless, having reassured myself that his hand is still attached to his wrist, I turn my attention to Taco, determined to give the beast a good slap when I notice that Duval has dropped his fingers onto Taco’s head and is absent-mindedly scratching the fur between his ears. Taco, in turn, pushes his snout upwards into the palm of Duval’s hand in a gesture of total acquiescence, and suddenly the penny drops.

‘This is your dog, isn’t it?’

‘This dog?’ he repeats vaguely, as though somewhere in the room, an entire police line-up of chiens méchants awaits identification. ‘Yes, he’s mine.’

‘His name is Taco,’ Emmy says, appearing at Duval’s elbow.

‘It’s a good name,’ Duval says simply. ‘I never got round to giving him one myself.’

I cross my arms in the manner of a fishwife and wait for an explanation. ‘The dog needed a good home.’ ‘The dog got used to being here when I was working on this cabin.’ ‘The dog loves women and children, can’t keep away from them.’ Frankly, anything would have been fine, but Duval just carries on pencilling notes on the drawings and his silence makes me peevish.

‘You know he’s been sleeping here for nearly a month?’

‘I’m sorry you’ve been inconvenienced, ma’am.’

‘I haven’t been inconvenienced, it’s just – why is he here? Why have you never said anything before about him being your dog?’

‘The dog comes and goes as he pleases. He’s half wild.’

‘You can say that again, he could have taken Jack’s hand off!’

Jack helpfully ups the tenor of his wails a notch. Duval raises his voice over the noise.

‘He’s not used to children, is all. Doesn’t mean any harm.’

‘Oh, I’ll try to remember that when his teeth are embedded in their skulls.’ Then, because I feel the need to justify the dreadful fuss Jack is making, add rather testily, ‘You really should have him neutered.’

‘Oh, come on,’ Duval flashes back, ‘surely one of us needs to have a little fun!’