‘That means a lot,’ I say. ‘Maybe I will. But we’ll see. A year is a long time, and right now I have no idea what I’m going to do to fill it. But I promise I’ll come and visit sometime. And you must keep in touch. Send me emails,’ I say to the kids, ‘to show me how your English is progressing.’

‘It’s a deal!’ Léa grins and gives me a high five, and I’m pleased to see I’ve clearly taught her something.

Michel carries my suitcase out to the waiting taxi and after hugs and kisses and tears from the kids, I’m in the car and going back to the station, eight weeks after I arrived on their doorstep in the same fashion. I board the train for the airport and make sure to sit on the left-hand side for the best view of the lake and mountains. I take out my phone and start a new email. There’s still something I have to do.