"Bien venue a la France", announced Michelle, "et chez moi".

"It looks lovely", said Sarah politely wondering how an airstrip could be a home. The asphalt had a slightly worn air to it, the way tennis courts look when they have been neglected by people who don't have the passion of previous owners for the sport but have the money to buy the accoutrements.

Stubbly grass grew through cracks and dappled patches of newer tarmac was evidence of minimal maintenance. Michelle's house however was something completely different. An immaculate modern bungalow built at the edge of the airfield, it stretched around a square of flower gardens, hidden groves and a full size swimming pool. Fountains hissed and danced. Shadows even at this early time of the morning emerged from around corners and dived into the shade of deep green leafed tropical plants.

A tall man emerged from the house entrance.

"My English butler, Charles". gestured Michelle. "Very pleased to meet you, Madame". He was young and athletic looking with a fresh complexion and short fair hair. Apart from the formal way he shook Sarah's hand he was definitely not a butler of the old style.

"And how nice to see you again sir". He addressed himself to Tim Cruickshank.

Tim warmly shook his hand and slapped him round the shoulders as if welcoming an old friend.

"Will you come this way, your rooms are ready."

Sarah was led into a huge room with patio windows leading to the central courtyard. It had its own en-suite bathroom, Jacuzzi and a huge double bed. Its comfort level was totally unrelated to the previous nights' hard and lumpy hotel equivalent. Fresh flowers occupied vases at various points. The unobtrusive delicate pink patterned wallpaper created a tranquil atmosphere.

An elegant grey leather suite created a quiet personal area and a warm feeling of secure opulence. Sarah tried the bed and lay back with a sigh. She felt she could stay here for ever but wished David could be here to enjoy it too. Then she wondered Then she wondered why she was thinking such thoughts. How indeed the other half lived. A knock at the door broke her reverie.

"We're off for a quick swim, said Tim as she opened the door, "and then we are breakfasting at the patio bar". He already wore swimming trunks. A towel was casually round his lightly tanned shoulders. He had muscles in all the right places. Sarah reflected that he must have broken many a fair damsels heart. Luckily for her, she felt not a twinge.

"I'll be with you soon," Sarah promised, "after I've unpacked."

Five minutes later she set off in the direction of the sounds of splashing. Immediately besides her room was an open door. She glanced inside and saw from the clothes draped on a chair that it belonged to Tim. She froze when she saw the automatic pistol and ammunition clip laid out on the table besides. Whatever the level of comfort and wealth, for a moment she just wanted to be home (wherever that was).

"Just as well he's on your side", she told herself. "Better get the job done and then get out - despite the good life temptations!"

Squaring her shoulders, she walked on into the pool area. Tim and Michelle were towelled off and lying on loungers by the pool relishing baguettes, pain au chocolate and small cups of black coffee.

She noticed a little wren pecking about in the flower beds on the left hand side. Could she be of as little significance as the wren to these wealthy people.

Charles had been in attendance behind the bar but now came out, found her a pool side chair and placed it close to the other two.         

"Thank you Charles", and then to the other two referring to her grey slacks and red blouse

"I'm afraid I am a little overdressed."

"Not to worry," said Michelle, "we are getting changed in a minute anyway and then I'll give you a tour around my shop".