The Russians, the African-American family and the hordes of elderly are having dinner in the hotel. But most eyes are irresistibly drawn to the famous obese South American who is sitting with his wife, eating in silence.

On one table, a youth of twenty finds it difficult to resist temptation and surreptitiously lifts his iPhone to take a shot. But the sporting legend has noticed. He confines himself to a tired gesture to his wife who immediately understands. She gets up and fetches a screen standing by a column. She places it between her husband and the rest of the dining room, then disappears behind it.

Jimmy Tree is eating on his own and has been watching the scene play out with concentrated intensity.

Among the bystanders there is also a man of fifty, a colossus with a very thick beard, dishevelled hair and wearing the remnants of an Alpine mountaineer’s outfit. He looks like some latter-day hippy. He is tackling a bowl of broth with a linen napkin tucked into his shirt.

The overweight South American has finished eating and is now crossing the room with his stick, supported by his companion, clearly proving how great an effort it is. As he passes, everyone sneaks glances at him. But Jimmy Tree’s attention is once again focused on the man’s walking stick.

At another table sit Fred and Mick. They are obsessed with watching a very distinguished couple in their sixties, never taking their eyes off them. From their features you would say they were German. They are both dressed in matching brown and beige and not simply by coincidence. They both look extremely bored, lost in space, and never exchange a word.

Fred and Mick continue chatting, but never take their eyes off the silent couple.

“Where did you get to today?” Mick asks.

“I got lost following the sounds of nature.”

“But isn’t it music that you lose yourself in?”

“‘Any sound can become music,’ as Stockhausen said. And what did you do?”

“I couldn’t find you, so I went and had a chat with my medical friend. They’ll speak tonight, you just see.”

But the German couple across the room are silent.

“Thirty francs they don’t say a word throughout the whole meal,” Fred says.

“I’m sure they’ll speak. Let’s make it fifty.”

“Done.”

The couple gets up, the man very courteously drawing back his wife’s chair. She takes his arm and they depart. Fred and Mick watch them right up to the door. The couple have not said a word.

“That’s 250 francs you’ve lost this week.” Fred blows his nose, wipes the handkerchief four times across it, then folds it and puts it back in his pocket.

Mick Boyle brushes the palm of his hand over his hair.

From his table Jimmy Tree has been watching their every movement.

16

A swing orchestra is performing on a stage in the garden. It tries to liven up the evening with a piece that is supposed to be full of joy, but only ends up generating a vague sense of congeniality.