The ‘day or two’ for which Leni had stipulated that they should remain, and to which Marcus had readily agreed, extended gently into three or four and then she very soon discovered, like Millament before her, that she had allowed herself to be ‘dwindled’ into remaining at the villa for the duration of their holiday. It was almost inevitable, because Cuckoo had taken the greatest pains, from the first moment of their arrival, to make it perfectly clear that they were free to use the house as an hotel, that they could come and go as they chose, that they must have no feelings of obligation or gratitude, must go out and discover the joys and horrors of the Coast for themselves and only give, if possible, advance warning about which meal they would be there to enjoy, for the sake of Bruna who must cook it. Beyond that, and the fact that they must under no circumstances ‘fuss’ Archie while he was working, there were to be no rules, utter freedom; otherwise she knew that she would lose them, and that was the very last thing she wanted. Their presence in the house, even after only twenty-four hours, quite enchanted her: their life, laughter, and dazzled delight in everything which they ate, saw, touched or drank filled her with tremendous pleasure and the villa with vibrancy and light. It was as if shutters had been thrown open and awnings raised. She needed them desperately, and to that end worked with the greatest tact and wisdom to keep them there.

Maps were marked with places they had to see, where they could eat reasonably, what they could safely avoid, where to cash a travellers’ cheque, catch a bus or the train, plus all the holiday minutiae of where to get the best espadrilles, sun lotion, swimming costumes, sandwiches and postcards.

The scarlet tent remained unstrapped and unrolled on a corner of their balcony while they set off, with towels and guide book crammed into Leni’s Army Surplus, and hearts filled high with anticipation, to discover the varied delights of the Riviera.