‘Okay,’ I say. ‘I did snoop. I shouldn’t have, but I did. The necklace was an accident. I’m sorry.’

‘But why? Just because you could? Why were you looking in our bedroom?’

And with that release of breath comes six weeks of confusion and anger and heartache and love for Léa and sadness at my impending divorce and despair at my own fucked-up life that’s turning out nothing like I expected. It rises up in me like a hairball in my throat that I have to cough out.

‘Because you’re so lucky,’ I say, my voice strangled. ‘You’re so bloody lucky and you don’t seem to appreciate it. You have a great husband, two adorable children who love you and want to be with you, an amazing career, and you’re living in this idyllic place. You have everything I want, and yet you’re never there. You’re never bloody there. And I couldn’t help it, maybe at first I wanted to… find something out that would make you not so fucking perfect.’ I laugh. ‘But the thing is, I couldn’t find anything. You’ve got perfect clothes and perfect hair and perfect wedding photos and a perfectly clean bloody house. Your life is amazing and mine…’ My voice breaks and I gulp back a knot in my throat. My eyes are blurred and I can’t see the road clearly anymore. ‘My life is an utter mess right now,’ I eventually manage, ‘and I guess I just wanted some of your perfection to rub off on me.’

I wipe my eyes, feeling humiliation wash over me. I’ve fucked all this up. My new start, my Swiss cure, I’ve ruined it.

She indicates and pulls into a service station that has a big picture of a St Bernard dog smiling out at us. I glare at it. She turns off the engine and faces me. ‘I’m not perfect,’ she says, and I hear her voice waiver. ‘You have found that out. I’m terrible at motherhood. I can’t bear children’s parties, even if it’s for my own kids. I get bored reading them stories for longer than five minutes. I can’t bake a cake even from ready mix. The house is only so clean because we have Maria. There’s no way I could do all the housework on top of my job and Michel doesn’t even try.’ She shakes her head. ‘And Michel and I fight all the time at the moment. Not helped by the fact he thinks you’re so amazing.’ She laughs. ‘I’m jealous of you.’

I look at her in surprise. ‘What?’