‘You work, as well as running this place?’ he asked, startled.

‘I do a few hours as a barmaid. The pub’s not far away.’

When it was all finished they stood back and regarded the result.

‘I’m afraid it’s a bit bare,’ Laura said.

‘I know what we can do,’ Nikki said. She disappeared and returned a moment later, clutching something that she laid triumphantly on the little chest of drawers by the bed.

It was a small soft toy in the shape of a dog.

‘His name’s Simon,’ she said. ‘And he’ll keep you company.’

Gino sat down on the bed so that his eyes were on a level with hers.

‘Thank you,’ he said gravely. ‘That was very kind. Now I shall have a friend.’

‘Three friends,’ Nikki said at once. ‘’Cos you’ve got us too.’

He raised his eyes to Laura, signalling a question.

‘Yes, you’ve got three friends now,’ she agreed. ‘I’ve got to go and start the supper. Come along Nikki. If Gino slept on the ground last night he’s probably longing to get some sleep now.’

He smiled and didn’t deny it.

When they had left he threw himself back on the bed and lay looking at the ceiling, waiting for sleep to come. After the uncomfortable night he’d had, it should happen easily.

But, as he’d feared, there was only restless wakefulness. By now he was drearily used to that happening. Once he’d been a man who slept easily, like a contented animal, living through his happy physical instincts.

But in the six months since he’d left Italy that had all changed. Now it seemed that he rested properly only one night out of two. The others were spent in chasing wretched dreams and visions, wrestling with regrets and ‘if onlys’.

The child’s mention of ‘home’ had caught him off guard, as so many things seemed to do these days.