Cattle herds and orchards. Lovely medieval towns of Normandy, but once you’ve seen one, you’ve seen them all: boulangerie; charcuterie; whatooterie.

‘Look at the size of that tree!’ Stanley pointed to a large oak.

‘Yes, isn’t it amazing how it’s got a trunk and branches.’

Split his sides at that.

’Course if it doesn’t work out, I’ll be looking for the 666 sign burned into his scalp and yours truly will end up in Jessie’s Inferno, yet again. Glad I’ve found him, for now, which is what matters, seeing as for ever’s always a day away. Those tight little buns fit my hands perfectly. Nice to have a squeeze when I feel like it.

‘Let’s go to Versailles,’ he said out of the blue, somewhat imploringly.

‘Do you really want to? It’ll bore the socks off you,’ I said, trying to dissuade him.

‘I’d love to. One of the French kings, right?’

‘No, one of the Aztec ones. And you’re the one with the degree. Louis XIV, to be precise. His idea of a country cottage, initially. We’ll go in the morning.’

CAMPING was signposted from the road – the French word the same as the English. Still, Stanley kindly translated it for me. A long ride down a bumpy lane lined with poplars until we came to an unlocked gate. ‘Actually, I do know some French,’ I said. ‘Although the only words I need to know in any language are You started it!’

He cranked down the caravan and I got cooking. Then he gathered firewood. ‘Hey,’ he said as it began to crackle. ‘All my handiwork.’

There he was, jumping up and down, doing a little dance.

‘Congratulations,’ I chuckled. ‘It’s no mean feat rubbing two flints together, Cave Man.’

Chopped some onions and courgettes and fried them in a pan. He watched, fascinated.

‘It’s called cooking, and if you tell me you’ve never seen someone cook in the open air before, I’ll clobber you.’

He swiped a slice of courgette, put it in his mouth and hopped off like a kangaroo. Have to pinch myself. He’s thirty-four.

‘Don’t make a mess,’ he said, picking up the peelings from the forest floor.

‘Sorry. It’s such a nice white carpet, isn’t it? I should be more careful.’

‘We should respect nature.’

‘I’m respecting the insects’ right to eat. Equal rights for all, that’s what I say. You don’t want those innocent little mites to starve, do you?’

He cleans up after me all the time, does Stanley. He’s this picker-upper following me around and tidying up my so-called mess.

Jessie, if you leave stale food in the car it’ll attract flies.

Jessie, this suitcase is for your clothes, and this one is for mine.

Jessie, don’t put loose change on the dashboard because it just falls down.