In one corner, there is a library of books and magazines, next to which is a small table with tea- and coffee-making facilities. In front of me are two doors. Opening the first one, I see a toilet and shower room. The second one leads into the kitchen and I’m surprised to see a cheerful, smiling face peering back at me.

‘Ah, the new lady.’ A rather portly French woman, dressed all in black, is loading up one of two dishwashers. She smiles across at me.

‘Bonjour. I’m Fern, Fern Wyman,’ I introduce myself, and she stops what she’s doing for a moment, half turning to face me.

‘Margot Bressan. I hope you eat most things?’ She looks at me in earnest.

‘Oh, yes, I’m easy to please.’

She nods. I wish my French was better, but I’ve learnt from the past that if I offer more than a few words of French, then it gives the misleading impression I’m fluent. In fact, I can’t keep up as most French people talk very fast and I generally only manage to pick up snippets. And that’s not an easy way to conduct a conversation.

‘I’m here if you need anything special. Except pasta. I leave that to the Italians. But most English dishes. I cope.’

Scanning around, it’s a pretty average-looking commercial kitchen. All stainless-steel workbenches and equipment.

‘I saw from the website that you hold cooking demonstrations throughout the week.’

She rinses her hands in the sink, stopping to wipe them on a towel before walking across to me. ‘Yes. I like teach people.’

We exchange grins.

‘Well, I’ll pop in if I’m not needed anywhere else. I’m not a great cook, if I’m being honest, and it would be fun to learn.’

That makes her laugh. ‘I will teach you best croissant and bread making. I promise.’

Suddenly a voice interrupts our conversation. ‘Ah, Fern, there you are.’

Nico steps in through the doorway and begins talking to Margot in French. I can only understand part of what he’s saying but enough to grasp that he’s agreeing mealtimes for today. When they finish talking, he turns in my direction, his eyes sweeping over me for a second before meeting my gaze.

‘Come, let’s walk and talk.’

I say goodbye to Margot and follow Nico out into the morning sunshine.

‘My apologies for the delay, Fern. There’s always an issue to demand my attention. Today it’s the van, which has broken down on the way to town to drop off the fresh produce. Hopefully the local garage will sort the problem quickly. I trust you slept well last night?’

He leads me across into the centre of the courtyard.

‘I did, thank you.’