Madame Sauze took her place at the foot of the kitchen table and began to serve out the food. She sat in Madame Choux’s habitual chair, leaving Didier’s, at the head of the table, ready for his return. She looked round the gathered servants, and having said a brief grace, she began ladling chicken onto a plate.

‘Lizette, child, take this to Madame Choux in her parlour.’

Lizette paled at the idea of going into Madame Choux’s private room, and taking pity on her, Annette got to her feet.

‘I’ll take it, madame,’ she said, and as she picked up the tray she was rewarded by a look of profound relief on Lizette’s face. The young maid, unused to kindness, was finding life more comfortable since Madame Choux had taken to her parlour.

It was as Annette came back to the table that it happened. Her back had been aching most of the day, but now she suffered a sudden stab of pain, so sharp and unexpected that she had to catch hold of the table to steady herself; for a long moment she couldn’t move as she fought the pain and then it was gone, leaving her breathless.

Agathe looked anxiously across at her. ‘Annette! Are you all right?’

‘Yes, aunt,’ she replied shakily. ‘Just a little pain in my back.’ She sank down onto her chair and then realised in horror that her skirt was soaking as water was seeping out between her legs. Colour flooded her cheeks in humiliation. Surely she had not wet herself, here in front of everyone! Those about the table suddenly fell silent as, with a low moan, Annette grabbed her damp skirts and fled from the room.

Ella, a girl who’d come in from the village, giggled, breaking the silence. ‘Annette’s pissed herself, she has! There’s a puddle on the floor!’

Agathe turned on the girl, furious, and snapped, ‘Don’t be ridiculous! She’s expecting a baby. That’s a sign it’s about to be born.’ She got to her feet. ‘I’m going to find her; and you, Ella,’ she retorted, ‘can mop the floor. Now!’

As she followed Annette out into the passageway, she heard an excited burst of conversation in the room behind her.

It’s the worst possible time for this to happen, she thought as she took the back stairs up to their bedroom. On Clarice’s wedding day of all days, when the house is full of strangers and everyone’s at full stretch.

Due to Father Thomas’s systematic abuse, they did not know exactly when the baby was due, but judging from Annette’s size Agathe had guessed there were a few more weeks to go. She had thought there would be plenty of warning when Annette went into labour and they had planned she should be safely in the home of the Madame Leclerc for her lying-in and the birth. But now Agathe was at a loss. Now her waters had broken the birth seemed imminent. Poor child! They should get her conveyed to Madame Leclerc’s at once, but how?