‘I think she’s tired,’ said Dan, but there wasn’t really any excuse and he felt embarrassed. ‘I’m sorry.’

‘It’s just business,’ said Griff. ‘You’re better qualified, obviously, but I should probably talk to her.’

He came and sat down on the sofa. Dan’s curiosity was awakened, like a dog at the smell of meat.

‘What kind of thing was it?’

‘What? Oh, just some financial business.’

‘About the farm? We collected the rent.’

‘No, nothing to do with that.’

He put his drink down and sighed and rubbed his face. He looked very tired. ‘I just thought I’d have another go. In the circumstances.’

‘Why don’t you tell me? I could talk to her.’

Griff laughed. ‘That’s a terrible idea. Why would I talk to you? Your wife wears the trousers.’

‘Sorry?’ said Dan.

‘I’m not being rude, but come on. What’s the expression?’ He paused. ‘Pussy-whipped. That’s you.’ The words were shocking coming out of his mouth.

‘Excuse me?’

‘You know, pussy-whipped. My daughter has the upper hand?’

‘Yeah, I know what it means.’

‘I’m not being funny. I’m the last person to judge anybody’s marital arrangements.’

Dan said nothing. Griff watched his face.

‘I’ve offended your pride.’

‘No,’ said Dan evenly. He wasn’t going to fall into Griff’s stereotype.

Griff leaned forward and put his big hand on Dan’s shoulder. ‘Forgive me. Seriously. I’m not myself.’

He looked sad, and Dan believed him. ‘It’s all right. Forget it.’

He picked up his beer, and finished it. But it was no good. He couldn’t leave it alone.

‘Bea and I agree about pretty much everything,’ he said. ‘We’ve got the same values.’

‘And?’

‘No and.’

‘A but, then.’

‘No,’ said Dan. ‘I mean, I don’t want her to think badly of me.’

Griff smiled.

‘Listen, that’s not the same as being whipped,’ said Dan.

‘Isn’t it? Well, she couldn’t have a lower opinion of me, and I survive.’

‘We’re honest with each other.’

‘Really?’ said Griff. ‘Well, that’s mistake number one, in a marriage.’

They both laughed at that, and there was peace for a moment, except for Dan’s curiosity, snapping at his heels.

‘So what was it you wanted to talk to her about? I’ll pass it on,’ he said.

‘Fine.’ Griff nodded. ‘Arun?’

Arun stepped out of the shadows. Plucking his trousers at the knee, he sat down on a squat, gilded armchair. Griff lay back, almost horizontal, to rest.

‘Go ahead,’ he said.

‘Hotel Paligny, the farm and the surrounding land are owned by a company,’ said Arun. ‘The land extends to about fifteen hectares –’

‘Sorry, which company?’ asked Dan.

‘Griff’s company.’

‘LCF?’

‘No. A different one.’

‘Hemisphere?’

‘Done your homework,’ Griff murmured, dozing.