The city of Narbonne itself was very attractive, with its magnificent cathedral dominating it from its high vantage point. The buildings that lined the streets were tall and elegant; mainly white, they had many windows and ornate facades. Their ground-floor rooms were shops and restaurants, with brightly coloured canopies extending over the tables and chairs set on the pavement.

The lovely River Aude rippled down from the Pyrenees through Carcassonne and reached the Mediterranean via Narbonne. Sibbie and Marjie often cycled along its route to the sandy beaches that dotted the coastline.

As Sibbie cycled down rue du Capitole, she began to feel less afraid. No one was taking any notice of her. No curious eyes were watching, there were no suspicious-looking figures on street corners and definitely no one following her. And, what was most reassuring, she passed a group of gendarmes and, apart from them glancing at her, none of them showed any interest in her.

Within an hour of Sibbie’s return, a communication arrived to say everything was all right and the message was genuine. Mystified, but obeying orders, Sibbie and Marjie stood outside the cathedral at the allotted time and waited.

‘I’m still nervous about this, Sibbie. How will we be picked up, and by whom? And why in broad daylight?’

Sibbie didn’t have a chance to answer before a car pulled up in front of them. The driver – a man in his fifties wearing a trilby-type hat and a smart suit, and a stranger to them – wound his window down. ‘Are you expecting Arnie?’

Sibbie nodded.

‘Get in the back.’

Once they were settled, the driver set off at a normal pace. ‘If we are stopped and questioned, which is unlikely, then I am Monsieur Dubret. I run a taxi service, which is often used by the officials. I am taking you to have tea with my daughter Renée, who is the same age as you. Renée met you in your aunt’s shop and you became friends. She works in the office of the gendarmes. You know very little else about her, as your friendship is only just beginning. Understand?’

They both said, ‘Oui.’ The cover story was simple to remember, and Sibbie could tell that, like her, Marjie had relaxed, although she did squeeze Sibbie’s hand and give some indication of the excitement she was feeling. Sibbie understood, as she too was excited, in an anticipatory way. Although it would be lovely to see Uncle Arnie – and, hopefully, Uncle Cyrus – her main hope against hope was that Paulo would be present.

They were dropped off, a little over an hour later, near the edge of a forest that surrounded Marjie’s former home close to Laurens. ‘Follow that path and you will be met – good luck! Oh, by the way, you will become friends with my Renée, and she will be very useful to you. She learns much, in her job.’