I stare a moment at the strange wristwatch in my hand. A session on the ukulele did little to organise my thoughts, but I am suddenly sobered by the inscription on the back: Vic et MP pour toujours. Is my assailant a Member of Parliament? Doubtful he'd etch such a mystifying message into the back of his wristwatch. Clearly it describes a serious relationship between "Victor" and "MP".

MP... Metropolitan Police. Missouri Pacific. Market price. Mezzo piano. ...Mignonette Pacal.

I hear the unlocking and opening of the front door accompanied by Mignonette's voice as she enters. Is this "Victor" the gentleman she was talking to in the square? My attacker?

I stuff the watch into my pocket and go to meet her in the hall. She is in rather good spirits this morning. She very carefully locks the door behind her as if to warn me that I won't be going anywhere soon.

She smiles sweetly, kisses my cheek, and brushes her nose against mine. "You need to stay out of the windows, my dear. Someone was trying to kill you, mon petit. That is why you were brought here, n'est pas?"

What is her game? I am confused when she slips a spare room key into the pocket of my trousers. She leans in to me. Her parted lips are a hair's breadth from my own. She closes her eyes. "Why was I brought here, exactly?" I ask, resisting her with every fibre of my being. "Someone is trying to kill me, and I should very much like you to tell me who it is."

Nettie's eyes fly open with surprise. Not for fear of having been caught. Of genuine surprise. "Mon chere, can you honestly suspect I have something to do with it?"

"I can," I answer, stubbornly questioning her sincerity.

"Je ne comprends pas, Simon," Nettie says, stricken by my effrontery. "How can you not trust me?"

"Save the performance for the stage, darling. Smacks of pique, if you ask me," I answer her cooly. I can already tell she does not deserve this treatment. Still, I must play the hand I'm dealt. I cannot be too sure.

"Get out," Nettie growls through clenched teeth, backing up to clear herself from the door. "I have ignored the minor inconsiderations, the forgotten dates; your failure to write or ring me; even the other women..." I open my mouth to speak, but I am cut off. "I did not have to bring you here. But I wasn't about to leave you in the hall like a wounded vagabond."

I am unsure what to make of this. I leave the watch in my pocket for the moment, and I withdraw the spare key. A pledge of good faith. "Je suis désolé, Mignonette," I whisper softly, taking her into my arms. She is tense for several moments before she melts into my embrace. This time I do not resist her lips.

There will be another time to enquire after "Victor".