‘Well … yes, I do see. But it was madness, the whole thing. Marrying into that vile family. I did warn you.’

‘Yes, I know. But he was breathing, and male, and he asked me. And after thirty years of being Miss Minerva Kamm I kind of hankered after the Princess bit. I wanted a change, and got it. And really, Cuckoo, swear to God … I had a ball. Minerva Kamm! Ye gods! When Daddy gave my name to one of his high-class stand-up-stalls for gentlemen, black, gold and pink mosaic, Klimt colours, he said, for the Jewish Trade, I cried for a week. “They’re pissing over my name!” I cried. “You should be so lucky!” he said. Right! Only I didn’t get the point, not then. But, brother … now I do. I love it all.’

A sound of laughter from the terrace, a chair scraped across stone.

‘My pretties,’ said Cuckoo and went to meet them. ‘Leni!’ she said in astonishment. ‘You’re on fire! Your head…’

‘Fireflies,’ said Leni. ‘Isn’t he so foolish, this one? He has caught them and put them in my hair. Marcus! Take them off.’

‘They won’t bite, they’re only flies,’ said Marcus. ‘Doesn’t she look super all lit up?’

‘Super,’ said Cuckoo. ‘Such a pretty thing to do.’

Leni was pulling anxiously at her spiky hair. ‘I can’t feel them, they’ll die. Oh, it such a silly thing to do. Flies can bite’

‘Come here,’ said Marcus and pulling her head down brushed three glowing sparks on to the terrace which Leni quickly scooped into her hand and scattered into the garden.

‘Poor little things. Looking for a gentleman, and now they’re all broken.’

‘You won’t get cold, will you?’ said Cuckoo. ‘All wet still.’

‘Oh, it was so beautiful, you know, like swimming in silver. No, it’s not cold.’

‘Would you like a whisky? Or there’s some wine chilling, the Sauvignon.’

‘No. Thank you very much.’ Leni pulled her towel round her waist. ‘To bed, I think … and Marcus to his bath. He loves this bath more than the bed.’

‘He’s crazy,’ said Minerva. ‘With you for a Dutch wife.’

‘What is this? Dutch wife?’

‘A kind of bolster, honey. You have them in the East where it’s terribly, terribly hot. They keep you cool in bed.’

‘I’m a bolster, you see, Marcus?’

‘Too skinny.’ He put his arm round her shoulder and pulled her to him. ‘And tomorrow, Cuckoo, we’ll take off. Go up into the hills: there’s a bus from Nice. To Peïra-Cava and Turini, or wherever.’

‘He says there are marmots there.’

‘What are they?’ said Minerva, filling her glass with ice.

‘Rabbits with no ears, he says. Right?’

‘Right. You don’t mind?’

‘No,’ said Cuckoo sitting down again. ‘Of course I don’t mind, you do as you like.’

‘Only it’s a pretty full day for you tomorrow. Signore Whatever and so on.’

‘It’s simple. A picnic lunch, that’s all.’