I could understand why Seconds had become so popular with authors and artists from all over the world in the few years since Vincent Welt had set it up.

Sure, at the start it had been controversial with Vincent refusing all candidates except for those who had already had some success, and who were now struggling with what he always laughingly referred to as ‘That difficult second album’, whether he was talking about writers, artists or, indeed, musicians. But word spread throughout the artistic world within a few months about just how extraordinary a place Seconds was.

Basically, the rule was that, if Vincent invited you and if you could get to an airport or train station somewhere near the house outside Uzes in the south of France, you’d be picked up and then hosted, for free in some pretty luxurious conditions, for a month or two to allow you to get well into that difficult second oeuvre.

Many had complained that Vincent should be helping new writers, young writers, minority writers, whatever. He just laughed, said it was his money and that he’d help who he liked and that was the end of the discussion.

Seconds now boasted more than a hundred best-selling second novels published by its alumni since it had opened, and everyone expected plenty more. Vincent wouldn’t reveal how he chose those lucky enough to get to stay in one of the suites, apartments or cabins but it was definitely eclectic; writers, painters, potters, musicians and sculptors of all colours, nationalities, genders, ages and styles had passed through the parrot atrium over the past five years, and about three-quarters or more of them had gone on to further critical and commercial success