‘Did you ever see his passport?’
‘Not that I can remember. Why?’
‘You don’t think that he might have been French by birth?’
It wouldn’t work out, anyway. The Frenchman was called Martin. Unless his English upbringing had made him want to adopt an English name?
‘You don’t happen to have a photograph of your friend, do you?’
But Mr Cullen’s attention was on something else. Grant turned to look, and found that Zoë was approaching them along the river bank. He looked at his watch.
‘Hell!’ he said. ‘And I promised to have the stove going!’ He turned to his bag and fished the primus from it.
‘Your wife?’ asked Mr Cullen, with that refreshing frankness. In the Islands it would have taken five minutes conversation to have elicited that information from him.
‘No. That’s Lady Kentallen.’
‘Lady? A title?’