The church clock chimes seven. The only other noise the yodelling song of the wood larks. One of those heavy mornings when it's good to have four legged companions leading the way and lending encouragement. On the path Sophie discovers three over ripe figs. She wolfs them down before I can say '' No ! ". What the effect ripe figs will have on her digestive system we shall discover as the day progresses.
Silence until ten to eight. Then it's the morning rush hour. The school secretary in her new Renault rushes by to supervise the repainting of the classrooms. The man with the garden machinery store heads off in his Mitsubishi in the other direction. The Old Farmer opens his creaky shutters. The mayor drives past towards the town hall, remembers that it's closed for the secretary's holiday, turns the hubcapless Renault in the car park and heads off home. The silence returns.