We request that you visit us at our offices at the above address at your earliest convenience, to arrange the funeral and sign the various documents required.

I remain, madame, yours faithfully…

The signature was undecipherable, but below it the name R. J. Colet was printed.

Tears sprang to Agathe’s eyes at the unexpected suddenness of Fleur’s demise. Why hadn’t she made the effort to go and see her? And now it was too late. Fleur was dead. Her sister was dead and Agathe hadn’t even known that she was ill. Why hadn’t Fleur told her? The letter gave no clue to the cause of death. Perhaps she hadn’t been ill at all; perhaps there’d been an accident. Agathe felt stunned by a mixture of grief and regret. They had never been really close, but Fleur had taken her in when she’d had nowhere else to go. Now she was gone and Agathe hadn’t even had the chance to say goodbye.

She continued to sit, silent, the letter clutched in her hand, while her coffee cooled unregarded beside her. She must go to the lawyer’s office as soon as possible. She would have to ask Madame St Clair for several days’ leave of absence to deal with all the necessary arrangements. When would she be able to go? Tomorrow was the family dinner for the returning married couple. Everything was in place for that. Madame St Clair had agreed the menu with Cook and Didier was in overall charge; surely they could manage without her.

Well, she decided, it was no use sitting wondering. She must explain the situation to her mistress and obtain the necessary time off to go to Paris. Reluctantly she got to her feet and went back to knock on Madame St Clair’s parlour door.

Rosalie listened to her request and sighed. ‘Of course, you must go,’ she agreed. ‘And the sooner the better. Where will you stay in Paris?’

‘My sister lived in an apartment in Batignolles. I think I may be able to stay there.’

‘Better you stay in the Avenue Ste Anne,’ said Rosalie. ‘I’m planning to go to Paris myself next week and you can advise Madame Vernier of my arrival. I shall take Hélène with me; she needs a change of scene. You must be back here before I go, as I will need to leave everything here in your capable hands.’

So it was agreed. Agathe was to leave the same afternoon and present herself at the lawyer’s office first thing next day.

*

Unaware of anything else going on in the house, Hélène opened her letter from Rupert. It wasn’t as long as she’d hoped, obviously written in some haste, but began with the decidedly welcome words:

My darling girl,

Warmth flooded through her and she went on to read,

How I miss you! After a tiresome journey I’m here at home and find the house full of understandable melancholy. My mother is distraught at Justin’s death and my father, though stoical in the extreme, seems suddenly very much older. My sister Frances has coped wonderfully, but obviously she too is desperately sad. I’m doing what I can to support them all, but there has to be an inquest, now set for this coming Thursday, before we can have the funeral on Friday. These things make it even harder to deal with.