She decided to give him another chance and trust him.

Alice found herself standing in a grand entrance hall, more like a museum than a private house. Will went straight to a tapestry opposite the front door and pulled it away from the wall.

“What are you doing?”

She ran after him and saw a tiny brass handle set into the panelling.

Will rattled and pushed at it, then turned round with frustration.

“Dammit. It’s been locked from the other side.”

“It’s a door?”

“Right.”

“And the labyrinth you saw, it’s down there?”

Will nodded. “You go down a flight of stairs and along a corridor, which leads into a weird sort of chamber. Egyptian symbols on the wall, a tomb with the symbol of the labyrinth, just like you described, carved on top. Now-” he broke off. The stuff in the newspaper. The fact your friend had this address…‘

You’re making a lot of assumptions based on not much,“ she said.

Will dropped the corner of the tapestry and was striding to a room on the opposite side of the hall. After a moment’s hesitation, Alice followed.

“What are you doing?” she hissed as Will opened the door.

Walking into the library was like stepping back in time. It was a formal room with the atmosphere of a men’s club. The shutters were partially closed and batons of yellow light lay stretched on the carpet like strips of golden cloth. There was an air of permanence, a smell of antiquity and polish.

Bookshelves ran from floor to ceiling along three sides of the room with sliding book ladders giving access to the highest shelves. Will knew exactly where he was going. There was a section dedicated to books on Chartres, photographic volumes set alongside the more serious examinations of architecture and social history.

Turning anxiously towards the door, her heart racing, Alice watched as Will pulled out a book with a family crest embossed on the front and carried it to the table. Alice looked over his shoulder as he flicked through the pages. Glossy colour photographs, old maps of Chartres, line and ink drawings flashed by until Will reached the section he wanted.

“What is it?”

“A book about the de l’Oradore house. This house,” he said. “The family has lived here for hundreds of years, since it was built. There are architectural floor plans and elevations of each floor of the house.”

Will flicked through until he’d found the page he wanted. “There,” he said, turning the book round so she could see properly. “Is that it?”

Alice caught her breath. “Oh God,” she whispered.

It was a perfect drawing of her labyrinth.

The sound of the front door being slammed shut made them both jump.

“Will, the door! We left it open!”

She could make out muffled voices in the hall, a man and a woman.

“They’re coming in here,” she hissed.

Will thrust the book into her hands. “Quick,” he hissed, pointing at a large three-seater sofa standing beneath the window. “Let me handle this.”

Alice scooped up her bag, ran to the sofa and crawled into the gap between it and the wall. There was a pungent smell of cracked leather and cigar smoke and the dust tickled her nose. She heard Will shut the case with a rattle, then take up position in the middle of the room just as the library door creaked open.

2›“Qu’est-ce que vous foutez la?” 2›

By tilting her head a little, Alice could just about the two of them reflected in the glass doors of the cabinets. He was; and tall, about the same size as Will, although more angular. Black curly hair, a high forehead and patrician nose. She frowned. He reminded her of someone.

“Francois-Baptiste. Hi,” said Will. Even to Alice’s ears he sounded falselybright.

“What the fuck are you doing in here?” he repeated in English.

Will flashed the magazine he’d picked up from the table. “Just dropped by to get something to read.”

Francois -Baptiste cast his eye over the title and gave a short laugh.

“Doesn’t seem your thing.”

“You’d be surprised.”

The boy took a step towards Will. “You won’t last much longer,” he said in a low, bitter voice. “She’ll get bored of you and kick you out like all the rest. You didn’t even know she was going out of town, did you?”

“What goes on between her and me is none of your business, so if you don’t mind-”

Francois-Baptiste stepped in front of him. “Why the hurry?”

“Don’t push me, Francois-Baptiste, I’m warning you.”

Francois-Baptiste put his hand on Will’s chest to stop him passing.

Will pushed the boy’s arm away. “Don’t touch me.”

“What are you going to do about it?”

2›“Ca suffit” 2›

Both men spun round. Alice strained to get a better look, but the woman hadn’t come far enough into the room.

“What is going on?” she demanded. “Squabbling like children. Francois-Baptiste? ”William?“

2›“Rien, maman. Je lui demandais-‘ 2›

Will was looking stunned as he finally realised who it was who’d come in with Francois. “Marie-Cecile. I had no idea…” He faltered. “I wasn’t expecting you back just yet.”

The woman moved further into the room and Alice got a clear look at her face.

It can’t be.

Today, she was dressed more formally than the last time Alice had seen her, in a knee-length ochre skirt and matching jacket. Her hair was loose around her face rather than tied back with a scarf.

But there was no mistaking her. It was the same woman Alice had seen outside the Hotel de la Cite in Carcassonne. This was Marie-Cecile de l’Oradore.

She glanced from mother to son. The family resemblance was strong. The same profile, the same imperious air. The reason for Francois-Baptiste’s jealousy and the antagonism between him and Will now made sense.

“But, actually, my son has a point,” Marie-Cecile was saying. What are you doing in here?“

“I’ve been… I was just looking for something different to read. It’s been… lonely without you.”

Alice winced. He sounded utterly unconvincing.

“Lonely?” she echoed. “Your face tells a different story, Will.”

Marie-Cecile leaned forward and kissed Will on the mouth. Alice felt the embarrassment seep into the room. It was uncomfortably intimate.

She could see Will’s fists were clenched.

He doesn’t want me to see this.

The thought, bewildering as it was, came and went from her mind in the blinking of an eye.

Marie-Cecile released him, a glint of satisfaction on her face.

We’ll catch up later, Will. But now, I’m afraid, Francois-Baptiste and I have a little business to attend to. Desolee. So if you’ll excuse us.“

“In here?”

Too quick. Too obvious.

Marie-Cecile narrowed her eyes. Why not in here?“

“No reason,” he said sharply.

“Maman. II est dix-huit heures deja.”

“J’arrive,” she said, still looking suspiciously at Will.

“Mais, je ne…”

“Va le chercher,‘ she snapped. Go and get it.

Alice heard Francois-Baptiste storm out of the room, then watched Marie-Cecile put her arms around Will’s waist and pull him against her. Her nails were bright red against the white of his T-shirt. She wanted to look away, but couldn’t.

“Tiens,‘ said Marie-Cecile. A bientot.”

“Are you coming now?” said Will. Alice could hear the panic in his voice as he realised he was going to have to leave her trapped.

“Toute a I’heure.” Later.

Alice could do nothing. Just listen to the sound of Will’s feet walking out.

The two men crossed in the doorway.

“Here,” he said, handing his mother a copy of the same paper Will had been reading earlier.

“How did they get hold of the story so quickly?”

“I have no idea.” he said sulkily. “Authie, I suspect.”

Alice went rigid. The same Authie?