‘Don’t know yet,’ I said absently. ‘Something nice.’

Izzy appeared at the foot of the stairs, yawning hugely in her pyjamas. She raised a hand in silent greeting and padded into the kitchen.

I nodded back and decided to call Sean’s mobile, on the pretext that they should also get some pastries and cakes for lunch. As it rang, I walked around the villa, out onto the balcony, popping my head into the dining room. No one else seemed to be up and about yet.

Sean’s phone went to voicemail. I hung up and tried again, leaving a brief message the second time.

I went to the front window and looked out onto the drive. All three cars were there, so they must have walked into the village. Ten minutes there, ten minutes in the boulangerie – assuming there was a queue – and ten minutes walking back. About half an hour, all told, which meant they should be on their way back. Strolling back hand in hand, perhaps? Sitting in the little café in the village square, sharing a coffee? Enjoying the privacy of a few quiet moments together, somewhere they wouldn’t be seen?

Maybe. Maybe not. But I could catch them out if I was quick.

I went to the bedroom and quickly put on my running gear.

‘Stay here with Izzy,’ I said to Daniel. ‘I’m going for a run.’

My son nodded without taking his eyes from the TV screen.

‘Get some proper milk if you see any.’

I grabbed a key and headed out.

*

Running had been Sean’s idea, in the beginning.

It was part of his midlife crisis, he said. He’d greeted the arrival of his thirty-ninth birthday with a rash of new hobbies, new goals and plans for life-changing self-improvement.

It had come along with joining a gym, buying a new road bike, trying to lose weight and cutting out midweek drinking. Along with taking bin bags full of old shirts and jeans to the charity shop and buying new clothes, ditching the stubble, getting his hair cut shorter and generally making more of an effort with his appearance.

Along with having an affair.

They were all signs, I supposed. Big, flashing neon that said something was going on in his life, his head, his heart. A change was happening. The indications were there, but I had misread them. I’d seen them as positives, when they were anything but. Although he’d already ditched the running, a few weeks ago. Just stopped. Needed all of his energy for other things, presumably.