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Our main character, Caroline, was mid-thirties, like me, but had had a very different childhood. She’d come from privilege – her parents were both alive and well, both she and her twin sister went to private schools followed by top universities where other privileged young people went to study and she now worked at a pretentious art gallery in Central London. She was confident, sassy, someone people were often slightly on edge around. I wondered whether, if she actually existed, she would be the sort of woman Theo would use his authorly chat-up lines on?

‘Of course,Madame. What can I get you?’ asked the waitress.

‘I’ll have a glass of the Sauvignon Blanc. Large. And to start, the tabbouleh. Followed by the whole fish of the day.’

It felt strange not sayingpleaseorthank you, but I went with it.‘Would you like anything on the side,Madame?’ asked the French girl, who couldn’t have been more than twenty-one. I didn’t envy her this job, although perhaps the tips were good enough to make up for all the crap she probably had to take from the pompous yachting crowd.

‘Hmmmn,’ I said, flicking to the sides section, not caring how long I took, or worrying about taking up too much of the waitress’s time. It was actually very freeing. ‘I’ll take the seasonal salad.’

I flipped the menu shut and thrust it at her rudely. I thought that might be a step too far, but Caroline was kind of taking over so I let her. Finally looking up at Theo, who I was sure was a shade or two paler than he had been a few minutes before, I gave him the nod.

‘What are you having, darling?’ I asked, making my own generic estuary accent sound as RP as I could manage. The fact I never missed an episode ofMade in Chelseawas clearly paying off.

‘Um . . .’ said Theo, faltering. ‘I’m not sure. I . . .’

‘Hurry up,Ethan,’ I said, rolling my eyes at the waitress as if to indicate how pathetic my husband was. She humoured me with a trace of a smile, even though she clearly thought I was a complete bitch. Mission accomplished. That was exactly how we wanted Caroline to appear: somebody so unlikeable, she could potentially be capable of murder.

‘I’ll take a beer, please,’ said Theo, sounding like a politer version of himself rather than Ethan, who was more world-weary than that, and pretty much hating on his wife.

‘And to start,Monsieur?’

‘The falafael. Thanks.’

‘Certainly. And for your main?’

I watched Theo, his eyes flicking back to the menu. Hewas doing his best, bless him, and I had sort of thrown him in at the deep end.

‘I’ll have a burger, please. With a side of frites.’

‘Honestly!’ I said, deciding to give Caroline one last bitch fest. ‘Darling, we’re in France. You can get a burger anywhere!’

‘Does itreallymatter to you what I have to eat,darling?’ he said. This was better. Ethan might be fed up in his marriage, but we didn’t want him to be a complete pushover. ‘Why don’t you concentrate on yourself? You’re usually very good at that.’

Ha! I knew he’d get into it.

‘And what’s that supposed to mean?’ I asked, pretending to grit my teeth.

‘Is that everything?’ asked the waitress, clearly desperate to get away.

‘Yes, yes, that’s all,’ I said dismissively.

Once she was out of earshot, I broke out into a big smile. Theo put his head in his hands, groaning loudly.

‘That was horrendous!’ he moaned. ‘I don’t think I acted like Ethan at all.’

‘You did towards the end,’ I reassured him. ‘I feel a bit bad, actually. I’ve never been that horrible to anyone in my life. I’m going to have to leave that poor waitress a massive tip now to make up for my terrible behaviour.’

He leaned forward in his seat. ‘You were brilliant, though. It was like sitting opposite the Caroline I’d created in my head. Utter cow. Confident. Sexy,’ he said, sounding a little breathless.

‘Is she the kind of woman you’re in to, then?’ I asked, teasing him.

‘What, self-obsessed and obnoxious? Yep, totally my type.’

I grimaced. ‘Only thing is, I’m not sure it would work to have two such massive egos in one relationship . . .’‘Touché,’ he said, smiling at me and holding my gaze.

As the waitress delivered our drinks, I reverted to my snippy, Carloline-esque tone, thankful that she’d forced me to look away from Theo at least.

‘Are you sure that’s a large?’ I demanded to know.