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rolled between his toes. ‘It wasn’t an insult, just plain fact. Nico and Olive spend all summer here and Isabelle loves to have them, but she is getting too frail to properly supervise them.’
    ‘Are you suggesting their parents are over-compensating for sending them away? Making up for it by filling their days with training?’
    He nodded. ‘Lavishing expenditure on them with a promise that one day they will be superstars. By the way,’ he went on, ‘“ Au pair ” means “equal”. In English, you use the word “peer” as in “peer group”, no? The words have the same origin. I do not think of you as a lesser being. D’accord? ’
    ‘All right. I overreacted. I can see we both have the kids’ interests at heart. Truce?’
    ‘Are we at war?’ His gaze softened with concern. With question. ‘Why are you gliding around at this hour, like a wraith? Do you sleep-walk?’
    Shauna explained about the owls, choosing not to mention the mysterious honking. However, she did tell him about the electrical anomaly in the tower. Laurent looked as if she’d given him an unwelcome message.
    ‘I’ll check it out, though it’s probably to do with the appliances in Isabelle’s kitchen causing a voltage fluctuation. When the tower was wired in the 1920s, there weren’t such things as fridges or electric ovens.’
    ‘I suppose not.’ It made sense, but didn’t wholly cure her unease. In for a penny … she described the strange noise that had woken her. ‘Geese, believe it or not. I was convinced they were right outside my room.’
    Laurent stared at her, then bit his lip in automatic denial. ‘That’s not possible.’
    ‘I agree. I checked and they definitely weren’t there. Not so much as a feather. I dreamed them, Laurent.’
    ‘That seems the most likely explanation. And now you can’t sleep.’
    ‘May I ask why you’re working all night?’ She tapped his plastic jar with a fingernail. ‘Testing it or drinking it?’
    ‘Both.’ He seized on the change of subject. ‘And I’d better finish.’ Turning from her, he topped up his jar from one of the casks then held the phial up to the light, examining its gemstone colour. ‘This is last year’s blended Cabernet Sauvignon and Cabernet Franc, which we sell as “Tour de Chemignac”. I’m taking a random sample to find out if it’s ready to bottle.’ He moved across to a kitchen workstation where screw-top capsules were lined up. Shauna watched him decant a small measure of wine into each, then label them.
    ‘Now the fun part.’ He shared the remaining wine between two tumblers, handing one to her. ‘I haven’t worked all night. There’s still an hour or more before the birds start singing.’ His voice became reflective; ‘I often forget the time, and the dawn chorus chases me to my bed.’
    ‘Sleep deprivation isn’t healthy, not long-term.’ She over-tipped her glass, flooding her throat as the notion of chasing Laurent to his bed took hold. After a twenty-hour day he must crash into sleep, his circadian rhythms all awry. No doubt he’d wake, ragged, at the blare of his alarm. Did he ever indulge in a lazy morning under the duvet? She raised her glass for another slug of wine.
    ‘No, no.’ Laurent touched her hand, slowing her down. ‘It’s a good vintage and I want your opinion.’ He picked up one of the capsules. ‘Some of these will go to the lab in Bergerac for final analysis before bottling. The rest go abroad to my distributors so they can taste and then buy. An Irish wine merchant rang a few days ago. One of their directors tasted Tour de Chemignac while he was on holiday nearby and he’s talking about ordering five hundred cases. Wine bars are springing up all over Dublin, did you know that?’
    ‘No, though there are plenty in Sheffield.’
    ‘So? Give me your thoughts.’
    If she told him those, he’d probably blush, or run a mile. ‘The wine? I like it.’ It was every bit as intense as its colour promised. She put