Eva was a cause of increasing concern. Since her stomach bug, she had become more reclusive, keeping to her bedroom for long periods. On a couple of occasions when Laure asked her for instructions, she told Laure it was up to her, which made her uneasy and more than a little apprehensive.

‘Are you sure you wish me to make these decisions?’ she asked, determined that matters were clear cut.

Eva’s reply was slurred. ‘Haven’t I said?’

It became clear that the children were suffering from their mother’s lack of interest. Maria cried for no obvious reason and Jan was noticeably truculent. Concerned about them, Laure decided to tackle Petr.

She chose her moment after the evening meal. Eva and the children had gone to bed and she asked Petr if she could have a word. ‘Sure,’ he said and carried his tankard of beer into the room favoured by the family for sitting in.

Petr put down the beer, flung wide the window and leant out, seemingly absorbed by the vista through which featured old roofs and church spires. Laure wondered if she had misunderstood and made a move to go.

‘Stay,’ he said, without looking round.

‘I’m interrupting your evening.’

‘A little. But you need to discuss something.’

In the daytime, the room was also used by the children and their things were stacked at one end of the room. Like the rest of the apartment, the room had beautiful proportions with a Bohemian glass chandelier hanging from an elaborately plastered ceiling. The pity was, as with most places she had been into, the paintwork was in its last stages and the furnishings, which included plastic chairs and a sofa from which the innards were spilling, were minimal.

Laure addressed his back. ‘I wanted to ask.’ She cleared her throat and went to the point. ‘Is your wife getting worse? It’s not my business.’ No, it bloody isn’t. Yes, it is. She ploughed on. ‘I think she might be.’

Petr turned around from his contemplation of the city. As usual, he was well dressed and groomed but he looked bone tired. ‘Have you talked about this with the children?’

She approved of his instinctive reaction to protect them.

‘No. I thought if there was something wrong, it would need careful thought.’

He nodded. ‘Thank you. You’re both tactful and sensitive.’

Petr sat down on the ailing sofa and indicated that she should take a chair. ‘I should have consulted you earlier. My wife has been diagnosed with a serious illness.’ He didn’t specify what. ‘The doctors are organising treatment.’ He hesitated. ‘We were hoping to resume treatment in Paris but, as things have turned out, we will remain here for the next year. It was one of the reasons we asked you to stay with us.’ He lit a cigarette. ‘Does that clear things up?’