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realises it is Véronique’s responsibility, not mine.’
    ‘We came as quickly as we could in response to your message,’ said Monsieur Pamplemousse, ‘but those of us who have no means of removing our outer cladding found the heat particularly enervating during the journey.’
    ‘Hmmph.’ The Director emitted a growl. ‘I’m sorry to hear that. Particularly as from now on Pommes Frites must be kept in a constant state of readiness; all his faculties will need to be in peak condition in case they are required at short notice.’
    While he was talking, he picked up a familiar looking form and in the manner of a conjuror seeking to impress his audience by making it vanish into thin air before their very eyes, held it up to a shaft of light infiltrating through a gap in the slatted blinds.
    If that were indeed his intention, he was doomed to disappointment, and he eyed the document with increasing disfavour.
    ‘First of all, Pamplemousse, without naming names, I have to tell you that a certain person who is responsible for our wellbeing is worried about you.’
    ‘Matron has succumbed to the heat?’ queried Monsieur Pamplemousse. ‘She must be practically on her knees with half the staff suffering from dehydration.’
    ‘No, Pamplemousse,’ growled the Director, ‘I do not mean Matron. I am referring to someone who must remain forever in the shadows, but who has the safe-keeping and security of the entire population of France very much at heart. It is an onerous enough task at the best of times, but it seems a copy of your P27 arrived on his desk this morning and he is less than happy.’
    ‘My P27, Monsieur ?’
    ‘Yes, Pamplemousse, the form containing your personal details. He wishes to know the meaning of the word “myob”.’
    ‘Myob?’ Monsieur Pamplemousse stared at the Director.
    Monsieur Leclercq heaved a deep sigh. ‘I do wish you wouldn’t keep repeating everything I say, Aristide. It appears you have entered it under the heading of “religion”. Teams of highly paidresearchers are even now scanning their computer files wondering if it is, perhaps, peculiar to some obscure African tribe. So far they have drawn a blank.’
    ‘I filled in the form when I first joined the company,’ said Monsieur Pamplemousse primly. ‘Nothing has changed during the intervening years.’
    ‘Unfortunately,’ said the Director, ‘it must have escaped my notice at the time. However, it has now become a matter of national security and the country cannot move forward until the matter has been resolved.’
    ‘Mind your own business!’
    The Director went purple in the face. ‘How dare you, Pamplemousse!’ he boomed.
    ‘It is an acronym,’ explained Monsieur Pamplemousse. ‘Each letter of an acronym happens to be the first letter of a different word …’
    ‘I am perfectly well aware of the meaning of the word acronym, Pamplemousse,’ barked the Director. ‘But what is myob an acronym of? That is the question.’
    ‘I have just told you, Monsieur – Mind Your Own Business,’ explained Monsieur Pamplemousse, as patiently as could. ‘It happens to be a phrase much used by les Anglais , the acronym of which is myob.’
    ‘Les Anglais !’ The Director appeared to have difficulty in swallowing, as though his worst fears had been realised.
    ‘It seemed a good idea at the time, Monsieur ,’ said Monsieur Pamplemousse lamely. ‘I have an English friend, a Mr Pickering – funnily enough he was at the funeral this morning …’
    ‘Ah,’ said the Director, momentarily diverted. ‘How did that go?’
    Monsieur Pamplemousse felt tempted to say with a bang’, but it was no time for levity. One thing was clear, however; news of what had taken place had yet to reach Monsieur Leclercq.
    ‘Mr Pickering,’ he continued, ‘uses the word a great deal whenever he has a form to fill in, especially when the question infringes on what he regards as personal matters. I gather he found it very useful when he was