Mornings were more leisurely for Rupert when Alain stayed over, since my fiancé was in the habit of taking the dog with him on his early morning run.

‘Sleep alright, Emmy?’ Rupert asked as we got breakfast organised, spooning locally made preserves into dishes and chopping fruit into a large glass bowl.

I narrowed my eyes, but he didn’t appear to be referring to Alain’s sleepover and the lack of sleep that might entail. ‘More or less. Why?’

‘Wondered if you’d been disturbed. Ruddy guests.’

‘Which guests?’

‘James and Caroline. Came back late last night and forgot their key. They didn’t want to wake everyone up by knocking at the main door, so they went around the side of the house and rapped on my window till I got up to see who the hell it was. Had to go through and let them in. Said they’d knocked somewhere else first. They weren’t sure if it was yours, but when you didn’t answer, they moved on to mine. Were you asleep?’

‘No. We were awake, but we didn’t look straight away.’

‘Why the hell not?’

‘We thought it was a vampire.’

‘You thought it was a what?’

I told him the tale, making him laugh loudly. And if his guffaws woke James and Caroline, it served them right.

‘I trust you and Alain got over your fright in a satisfactory manner?’ he asked when he’d stopped laughing.

‘Very satisfactory, Rupert, thank you.’

‘Glad to hear it. Also glad I didn’t hear it.’

I threw a strawberry at him and began to hull the rest.

That evening was designated as the make-up trial that Mum had insisted on, over at Ellie’s house. I’d hoped to get out of it, or delay it, at least, since it was a guest meal night. But Rupert said that as long as I helped him prep before and clear up after, he didn’t mind entertaining the guests by himself while I disappeared for a couple of hours.

I suspected he was trying to keep me at arm’s length from Gavin. If so, I wasn’t complaining. I drove the country road to Ellie’s house like a truanting schoolgirl.

Ellie and I goggled as Sophie laid out the make-up she’d brought with her, amazed at the number and variety of pots and palettes and brushes.

Ellie picked up the eyelash curler and looked at it as though it was an instrument of torture. ‘You’re not coming near me with this thing!’

It was another world to me, too. I was not famed for my cosmetics repertoire. A dash of mascara and a swish of lippy was the most I bothered with nowadays. Since I’d moved to France, my skin had a golden glow and I didn’t feel the need to plaster it in anything artificial. But a wedding day was different.

‘Be thankful that you live in sunny France,’ Sophie echoed my thoughts. ‘Or you would have to have spray-tanning sessions.’ She looked over at Ellie. ‘Although in your case …’

‘It’s not my fault I don’t tan,’ Ellie cut her off. ‘And if you think my duty as a bridesmaid stretches as far as standing in a pair of paper knickers while a twenty-year-old sprays every inch of me with disgusting gloop, you can go and …’

‘We all love your alabaster complexion, Ellie,’ I said hastily. ‘Don’t we, Sophie?’

‘We do if I can find a foundation paler than palest ivory,’ Sophie grumbled, rummaging. ‘Ah, here’s one.’ She pretended to peer at the label. ‘“Vampire white”. That should do it.’

She ducked as a cushion flew her way like a heat-seeking missile.

When I looked in the mirror half an hour later, I gawped. Sophie had heeded my plea that I wanted to look natural and had enhanced everything, but no one would have had any idea how much work had gone into it. The same with Ellie, who was struggling to tear herself away from her reflection, muttering about looking five years younger.

We took photos to send to my mother for approval, and to Kate so that she knew she would be in good hands on the day, and considered it an evening well spent.

As did Mum. Her response to our photos?

Great. Aren’t you glad you had this practice run, Emmy? Now you can relax about it!

Hmmm. Clearly, it hadn’t occurred to her that we wouldn’t need to relax about it if she hadn’t stressed us out in the first place.

‘Sorry, Emmy, but a client’s asked me to go round to see him,’ Alain told me on the phone the following evening. ‘He’s panicking over some missive from the tax authorities. I need to see what it’s all about, or he’ll worry the entire weekend. Will you still come round later?’

‘Of course. Give me a ring when you know what’s what.’

I went round to the kitchen to grab a glass of wine, but that was a mistake.

‘Emmy. Why the long face?’ Rupert asked, coming in from the garden.

‘Alain’s been detained on a matter of dire accounting urgency. He won’t be free till later.’

‘Why not join me for a drink on the patio till you hear from him?’

Since I could think of worse ways to spend my evening, I accepted his offer. As I settled myself outside, I noticed a third glass. ‘Got someone else here?’

‘Ah, yes, well …’

Gavin came through the patio doors. ‘Sorry about that, Rupert, the old bladder’s not what it used to be. Emmy! Joining us? Lovely.’

I flashed him an insipid smile and narrowed my eyes at Rupert, but the string of expletives I would have directed his way had to remain unspoken.

‘Emmy can’t stay long.’ Rupert did his best to get back into my good books. ‘She’s off to Alain’s shortly.’

‘Oh. Right. Hmm. Hmm. Nice chap,’ Gavin mumbled.

I placed my phone on the table, so I couldn’t miss my rescue call, and sipped my wine. Well, I took a large gulp first to get the effect going, then sipped. Since I would be driving to Alain’s, I needed to take it easy.

‘You’ve not found yourself another lady friend yet?’ Gavin asked Rupert.

Rupert played for time, sipping his wine, presumably deciding how to handle the nosiness of his guest.

‘No. Still dealing with the divorce, Gavin. Another relationship isn’t high on my priority list. So, what do you reckon about England’s chances in the next test match?’

We heard tyres on gravel, and a minute later, Ellie walked round the corner, smart in a pale green linen shift dress that fitted her slim figure perfectly and showed off her long legs.

Rupert stood. ‘Hi. I wasn’t expecting you.’ He looked mightily pleased to see her, but that was hardly surprising if he’d thought he was going to have to entertain Gavin all evening by himself.

‘I know. Sorry to turn up unannounced,’ Ellie said. ‘I spoke to Luiza today. She wants to try a different tack with the Mallorcan property, and I said I’d talk to you about it.’

‘Great! Have a glass of wine out here first, then we’ll go into the den for a chat.’ No doubt a hint for Gavin to sling his hook shortly. ‘This is Gavin Henderson, by the way. Gavin, this is Ellie, a good friend of mine.’

Gavin stood to greet her. ‘Any friend of Rupert’s is a friend of mine. Pleased to meet you.’

I left them to the pleasantries and followed Rupert into the kitchen. ‘Don’t you dare disappear with Ellie and leave me with him!’

‘Don’t worry, Emmy. We’ll stay outside for a bit longer,’ Rupert soothed.

When we went back out, Gavin had pulled up a chair for Ellie next to his and was busy smarming.

I smirked. He wouldn’t get far with her.

We settled back down and the conversation got going again, after a fashion. When my phone rang, I snatched it up, but it was only my brother Nick, confirming his travel arrangements for the wedding. I went a little way down the garden to take the call, but a few minutes in, I heard a scrape of chairs on the patio and glanced sharply back.

Ellie was standing, her hands on her hips. As I watched, Gavin stood too, then Rupert. I didn’t like the way they were looking at each other.

‘Nick, I have to go.’ I clicked off without even giving him a chance to reply, and shot back up the garden.

‘… his hand on my knee!’ Ellie was saying, apoplectic. ‘Never mind that dodgy greeting earlier.’

‘For God’s sake!’ Rupert moved in threateningly close to Gavin. ‘First Emmy, and now this! You’re heading for trouble, “old friend”.’

I goggled. Ellie was quite capable of dealing with something like this herself. And sure enough …

‘Rupert, there’s no need,’ Ellie tried to intervene. ‘I can fight my own battles.’

‘Not on my premises,’ Rupert ground out. He and Gavin were almost nose to nose now, Gavin’s face shocked, Rupert’s red with anger. It would have been almost comical to an outsider.

But I wasn’t an outsider. ‘That’s enough!’

Rupert finally took a couple of steps back, and Gavin recovered his poise with the safer distance between them – and the fact that Ellie practically had Rupert in an arm lock.

‘How dare you speak to your guests like that?’ Gavin braved.

Rupert glared at him. ‘How dare you treat women like that? My friends? You’ve gone too far, Gavin. I want you to …’

I knew Rupert was going to ask him to leave. But that was a step too far, I felt.

‘I’ll deal with this,’ I told Rupert firmly. ‘Gavin. A word. Inside.’

As I propelled him through the patio doors, I heard Ellie saying, ‘He was only trying it on, Rupert. Do you honestly think I’ve never had an unwanted hand on my knee before? No harm done. Calm down before you set your angina off.’

In the kitchen, I stared Gavin down. ‘I’ve already told you, you can’t do that kind of thing. Sympathy for your wife leaving you only stretches so far, and you’ve gone past the point of no return with Rupert. If you’re going to finish your stay here, that has to be an end to it. I know you’ve been out of the loop for a long while, so I’ll give you a handy tip. Nowadays, you need to be absolutely sure the attraction works both ways before you try anything on.’

‘Hmmph.’

Leaving him to sulk, I went back outside. ‘I’m sorry, Ellie.’ I kissed her on the cheek.

‘It’s fine. I’m fine.’ She rolled her eyes. ‘Rupert said he tried something on with you, too.’

‘Yeah. That man’s judgement is seriously out of kilter at the moment. But his wife’s just left him, and he was already an idiot before that.’

‘I want him out,’ Rupert declared.

‘Rupert, I’ve spoken to him, and I think that’ll be that. You can’t throw someone out for making a pass at someone he thinks is attractive and available.’

‘Yes, well, Ellie’s not …’

‘Not attractive?’ Ellie cut him off, glaring at him.

‘You know I didn’t mean that.’

Thankfully, my phone rang at that point.

It was Alain. ‘Hi. Accounting crisis averted. Can you come over and make wild, passionate, end-of-the-week love to me now?’

‘With pleasure.’ I clicked off. ‘Gotta go.’ I wagged my finger at Rupert. ‘You? Behave. Ellie, keep an eye on him.’

‘Won’t let him out of my sight, I promise.’

When I got to Alain’s, he was on the phone to his mother, frowning. He delivered a glass of wine into my waiting hands, and when he’d clicked off, he pulled me down on the sofa next to him and slung his arm across my shoulders.

‘What’s up?’ I asked.

‘Not sure. In theory, she was ringing to pass on a message from Sabine that the tie and sash for the kids’ outfits are finished and looking good.’

‘But?’

‘She also mentioned that Adrien’s away for the weekend.’

I looked at him blankly. ‘And that’s important because …?’

‘Not important, but odd.’

I sipped my wine and tried to concentrate. ‘Why? Is he joined to Sabine at the hip, or something?’

‘Hardly. But he’s visiting an old university mate he hasn’t seen in years. And he never mentioned it to Mum last week. Spur of the moment, apparently.’

‘So? He had a sudden whim.’

He prised my glass from my hands and took a large gulp of wine. ‘Mum thinks he might be having a mid-life crisis.’

‘What?’ I laughed. ‘You’re older than he is. Doesn’t that mean you should have had yours first?’ I sobered up when I saw he was still worried. ‘That’s ridiculous. One weekend visiting an old friend doesn’t mean Adrien’s having a mid-life crisis. Let me know when he buys a red sports car and a leather jacket, and I’ll rethink it.’ I frowned. ‘Are you worried about him?’

‘No. I learned not to worry too much about Adrien or Sabine a long time ago.’ He leaned in for a kiss. ‘So. What’s what at La Cour des Roses? No more unwanted advances from Handy Gavin, I hope?’

‘Not for me. But …’ I told him what had happened with Ellie.

‘That guy needs rewiring,’ Alain grumbled. He cocked his head to one side. ‘Makes me wonder, though. Don’t you think Rupert overreacted?’

‘I would, if it hadn’t been for the fact that he knew Gavin had already had a go at me. And you wanted to thump Gavin when you found out about that, remember?’

‘That’s different. You and I are together.’ His eyes widened. ‘Do you think there’s something going on between those two?’

‘Ellie and Rupert? No. Ellie doesn’t want romance and Rupert doesn’t want complications. Besides, I asked him about potential entanglements the other day.’

‘You did? What did he say?’

‘He said nothing doing.’

Alain wasn’t convinced. ‘Remember at Rupert’s sixtieth birthday party last year, when we played kids’ games? Ellie and Rupert passing that balloon between them with no hands was pretty interesting, if you ask me.’

‘That was ages ago. I kept my eye on them after that, but nothing else happened. Tipsy fun at a party, that’s all.’

‘They see a lot more of each other nowadays.’

‘True. But I think that’s because their friendship became easier after Gloria left. They chat and laugh at each other’s jokes. Ellie’s been fantastic, keeping Rupert’s head above water during his divorce and helping over the Mallorcan property. But there are no outward shows of close affection, really, other than friendly pecks on the cheek and the like.’ I shook my head. ‘I’m inclined to think it’s just a case of him needing to spend time with someone nearer his own age.’

Alain’s lips twitched. ‘What about his other needs?’

I spluttered on my wine. ‘I try not to delve too deeply into those, if you’ll pardon the expression.’

He laughed. ‘What about my needs, then?’

I placed my wine glass carefully on the coffee table. ‘Those, I am prepared to think about.’

I kissed him long and deep, pushing him back into the corner of the sofa, pressing my breasts against his chest. His response was swift, but I didn’t want to rush anything. I was feeling lazy tonight.

We necked on the sofa, only getting around to buttons and zips when urgency got the better off us.

Good job we’d closed the curtains earlier.

Saturday saw the departure of Grace and Peter. I was sad to say goodbye, but delighted they’d enjoyed their stay.

‘Will you come back sometime?’ I asked them as Rupert carried their bags to the car.

‘You try to keep us away!’ Grace’s blue eyes twinkled. ‘We love it here.’

‘And you’ve done us a favour.’ Peter reached down to pet Gloria, who had come out to say farewell. ‘This four-legged character has, anyway.’

‘Oh?’

‘I was brought up with dogs. Always loved them. Haven’t had one for a few years now. But Grace here has never had a dog, and she wasn’t sure about my wanting one. Gloria’s helped change her mind.’

I turned to Grace. ‘Really?’

‘Yes. Not something as big, of course. But I can see the appeal now.’

I crouched down, taking the dog’s muzzle in my hands and gazing into her big, dopey eyes. ‘See, Gloria? Somebody saw your appeal, at last. You must have some, after all.’ I kissed her on the nose and had my face licked for the trouble.

Everyone laughed. As we hugged goodbye, I knew we would see Peter and Grace again, and I was more than glad about that.

‘How is it at your niece’s?’ I asked Madame Dupont as I drove her to La Cour des Roses for our Saturday session. ‘You look tired.’

‘Ah, not too bad, Emie. But my niece has small children, and the baby cries in the night.’

‘Is it stopping you sleeping?’

She cast me a resigned smile. ‘Yes. But that is what babies do, after all – I remember it well. I will get used to it.’

What could I say? Madame Dupont had cared for her family her whole life, and they were trying to do their best for her. It wasn’t their fault that nobody had the right set-up.

‘So you’ll stay with your sister this weekend, and next week with your niece again?’

‘Yes. I will be okay.’

I marvelled at her stoicism. ‘What’s happening with your house?’

‘The insurance company are busy with their assessments and calculations. They will make good the house, but my policy was basic, so it will be limited to making it habitable.’

I sensed a reticence. ‘But?’

She sighed. ‘But it will not be my house any more, Emie, will it? I know it wasn’t much, and it was becoming difficult for me, but I was familiar with every last centimetre. And the work will take so long.’

‘What about your chickens?’

‘I offered to give them to Monsieur Girard, but he insisted on paying me something for them. We are both content with that.’

‘I’m glad,’ I said. ‘One less worry off your mind.’

‘Yes. It is a relief.’

We set to work, and Madame Dupont threw herself into it with gusto, chattering at me nineteen to the dozen, as though she’d missed my company terribly over the past few days.

I was secretly flattered, although it gave me a headache, trying to keep up with the speed of her enquiries about the guests (good apart from Gavin), the wedding preparations (getting there, slowly but surely) and Rupert’s position with Gloria (going nowhere fast).

Later that afternoon, as I drove her into Pierre-la-Fontaine for the bus to her sister’s, she fixed her steely eye on me.

‘You must be worn out, doing all the cleaning yourself,’ she said. ‘I do not want you to get too tired before your wedding.’

‘Rupert’s helping.’

‘You should get someone in. I would like to help on Saturdays if you will fetch me, but during the week, you should get someone else. Promise me.’

I glanced at her resolute expression. ‘I promise.’

I relayed the conversation to Rupert as we cooked the guest meal.

‘Now that Madame Dupont has given us permission, as it were, I’ll make enquiries,’ he said. ‘Perhaps Juliette, who helped me last year after you went home, when I wasn’t well?’

His voice lacked enthusiasm. Apparently, Juliette was efficient but stony-faced and had no sense of humour whatsoever. Still, we wanted a hard-working cleaner, not a comedian.

‘Will you call her sometime?’

‘I can’t wait.’

My phone rang as I was making the filling for Rupert’s marinara quiche. When I saw it was my mother, my blood pressure began to soar. She knew Saturdays were outrageously busy, she knew they involved a guest meal and that I helped Rupert to cook. Why did she have to pick now to phone?

‘Hi, Mum. I’m sorry, but I can’t talk right now.’

‘It’s only quick, Emmy. I need to speak to you about the cake.’ The cake. Damn. Haven’t done anything about that, yet. ‘And the wedding favours.’

Doesn’t sound quick to me. ‘Mum, I can’t. I’m right in the middle of cooking the guest meal.’

‘Oh,’ she huffed. ‘Will you call me back tomorrow? We only have two weeks left, and …’

‘Okay. I’ll call you tomorrow.’

Rupert gave me a sympathetic look as I tossed my phone onto the counter.

‘She knows this is a bad time to ring,’ I ranted. ‘But she gets something in her head and she’s off and running.’

‘Put you in a bad mood, has it? Do you want to take a couple of minutes to cool off?’

‘Why?’

He pointed to the bowl I was clutching to my chest. ‘You’re whisking those poor eggs into oblivion, Emmy. Show them some mercy, love.’

‘Oops. Sorry.’

Our new arrivals, Kathleen and Deborah, were twin sisters in their late forties and an open-hearted pair, seemingly happy to tell everyone everything about themselves.

When Gavin mentioned his recent separation from his wife over the moules marinières, they were full of sympathy.

‘I’m so sorry, Gavin,’ Deborah said kindly. ‘My husband ran off with his PA years ago, so I know exactly how you feel. Left me with three kids to bring up on my own. Had the cheek to try to come back a couple of years later, but I told him where to stick it.’ She jabbed her fork in the air for emphasis.

‘Quite right, quite right,’ Gavin muttered, clearly taken aback by Deborah’s vehemence and perhaps realising he’d opened a can of worms that might best have been left firmly shut.

Rupert hid a smile as he brought over the marinara quiche, garlic potatoes and salad, and I saw him glance at the band on Deborah’s ring finger.

‘But you found someone else?’ he asked her, to bring the conversation back to happier times.

‘Local butcher, would you believe?’ She laughed, then made a face. ‘The shop turns my stomach, to be honest, but he’s good with the kids – well, teenagers now. Heart of gold. He’s looking after them so I could come on holiday with Kathleen. Can’t say I didn’t go through the wringer before I found him, though. Still, they say you have to kiss a lot of frogs to find a prince, and we’ve all been there, done that, haven’t we?’

Since our other guests were happily married couples, her only response was from her sister.

‘Hmm,’ Kathleen mused. ‘I was more of the once bitten, twice shy persuasion after my divorce.’ I thought I detected a hint of disapproval in her voice, suggesting her sister had not been very discerning, but then she patted her hand in solidarity. ‘At least Toby left me well-provided-for.’

This was borne out by the classy jewellery she dripped with, wherever it was possible to hang jewellery. Indeed, as we sampled Rupert’s excellent white chocolate crème brûlée, Gavin was unable to take his eyes off Kathleen’s spray-tanned and gold-and-diamond-clad cleavage.

Letch.

On the bright side, he wasn’t letching after me any more.