Franck drove straight back into the Dauclercqs’ yard, surprised at the cloud of dust that rose into the air as he hurtled across the dry ground. A blue Renault 4 and a tractor were parked in front of the shed, a sign that Monsieur Dauclercq was in. Given the time, they were probably having lunch. These old farming types ate at noon on the dot. He had misgivings about disturbing them as he cut the engine, but what did it matter? He slammed the door as he got out of the car. Not only would it show he was here but perhaps it would also wake the dog in the big kennel that was always strangely silent. But nothing happened; nobody came out of the house and the dog didn’t appear. Instead of heading for the farm, Franck went over to the kennel to see what kind of hound was hiding inside, certain that the dog from last night would be sleeping there, recovering from its adventure. He had a look but couldn’t see anything inside because of the contrast between the sun and the shade, so he got down on all fours to inspect the dark chamber. He found nothing but a dirty old cushion right at the back.

‘Looking for something?’

Franck got up, dusting himself down.

‘Nothing. No, nothing. I just said I would come and buy some vegetables off your wife.’

‘Ah, OK.’

Monsieur Dauclercq came out of the barn and walked slowly towards Franck. He must have been over seventy-five, maybe even eighty. He was wearing a vest, his skin tanned by the sun, and was toned and slender like an athlete. He had a cap on and his neck was like thick, cracked leather. He shook Franck’s hand very firmly and Franck felt obliged to grip just as hard. The man had almost hurt him.

‘You don’t have a dog?’

‘I do have a dog. Why?’

‘Because I can’t see it. Is it never in its kennel?’

‘It’s too hot. It’s in the barn, in the shade.’

‘I see.’

Franck nearly asked if he could see the dog to find out if it was the same one as last night. In a way, he would have found that reassuring. Or perhaps it would have made him more worried. He didn’t really know any more. All the same, he thought to himself that if that dog was hiding in the barn right now, that meant it was really unfriendly because it must have smelt him even from a distance, even if it was sleeping. The dog should have recognised him just by smell and at least come to greet him.

‘What sort of vegetables do you want?’

‘Listen, we’ll talk about it later; I don’t want to disturb you in the middle of your lunch.’

‘Well, since you’ve already done that, come inside and discuss it with my wife.’