The Vicomte gave him a weird shrug, with just one shoulder, as if the other wouldn’t move. ‘There is no garage who will come at this hour. Tomorrow – in ze morning – I call for you, if the phone works. Tonight, you do not need your car, surely, Monsieur? Relax and enjoy the wines from our ancient cellar!’

‘I need to drive to get a phone signal – to call my nanny’s boyfriend, who should be with us. Jack Alexander. We do not understand why he is not here.’

‘Jacques Alexander?’

‘Yes – oui.’

The old man shook his head. ‘Tonight non, rien, nothing. I am sorry. Tomorrow we try, yes?’

Roy was surprised that he spoke better English than Madame had said. ‘Thank you – merci.’

Madame appeared through a doorway, holding a huge silver tray loaded with plates of food. There was a wonderful smell.

Roy went over to the table and told Cleo what had been said.

‘There’s nothing else we can do, darling,’ she said. ‘We’ll have to wait until the morning. Go up and change – you’ll catch your death of cold.’

Nodding reluctantly, he hurried back up the landing, the delicious smell of food following him, and yet again hauled himself up the tower’s spiral staircase. He could have sworn it was even steeper and that there were more steps than before.

In their room he towelled his hair, dug out a fresh pair of jeans, a shirt and dry trainers from his bag. When he returned to the dining room a few minutes later, Cleo and Kaitlynn had salmon steaks, French fries and bowls of salad in front of them.

Moments later Madame came back in with the same tray loaded with plates of fillet steak and fries for himself and Bruno.

The steaks were perfectly cooked and delicious – and the chips were amazing. They were followed by more of the wonderful cheeses they’d had earlier, that Madame said were all local. Then a dessert to die for – meringues swimming in a pool of warm, thin, creamy custard. ‘Îles flottantes!’ Madame said proudly.

‘Jack will be really sorry to have missed this feast!’ Kaitlynn said bleakly. ‘That dessert is his favourite dish in the world. God, I am so worried about him.’ Tears rolled down her cheeks.

‘I’m sure he’s fine,’ Roy said, and immediately realized how lame that must sound to her. It sounded pretty lame to him.

‘This is not like Jack,’ she said. ‘Something’s happened. I just hope to God he’s OK.’

‘Should we ask the witch to keep some food for him, Roy?’ Cleo asked, in a shifty whisper.

Roy looked at his watch. It was now nearly 9 p.m. Whatever was delaying Jack, he was probably going nuts trying to contact them and not getting through. Although he felt shattered from the long drive, he knew he owed it to Jack – and to Kaitlynn – to keep trying.