SUNDAY 8AM – UZMASitting alone in the pretty breakfast room, I realise that I'm still holding the glossy art leaflet between my fingers. It's almost as though that strange man in the business suit has given me a clue as to where to look for Sylvain. I'm sure he'll be there. Why wouldn't a local artist be at a local gallery display? I need to tidy myself up and sort out my hair. I can't have him seeing me looking like this, wearing someone else's shirt and without make-up. He'd run a mile! Still, I have time.
I glance at the delicate flowered wallpaper and antique furniture. This is such a comfortable place to stay. When Sylvain and I were here, we didn't stop for breakfast, but sneaked out at dawn so that I could slip back into my lodgings unnoticed. There are two large watercolours on th
