He took any job he could get, preferably hard manual labour so that he could tire himself out. In this way he earned just enough to get by, until he could decide what he wanted to do. But he could not settle, and he travelled on, always trying to avoid her face, always seeing it dance before him. In the end he had come to England, Alex’s country, where he was always bound to finish.

Now he seemed to have reached a place that was largely featureless. Despite what Laura had told him he had no real idea where the town was in relation to the rest of England and the rest of the world. And in an odd way that suited him.

He had come to nowhere, and he had nothing. When he’d been to the bank he would possess a little money, but he would still, in all important senses, have nothing.

He was cut adrift from his family and everything he knew, and he had no way of going home, because home no longer existed.

Gino opened his eyes to darkness. He must have slept again after all, so deeply that evening had passed into night. His watch told him it was nearly midnight.

He rose, feeling strangely well rested after his turbulent sleep. Looking into the corridor he saw that the rest of the house was dark and quiet.

The other guests must have returned, eaten and gone to bed, shutting their doors. He could see some of those doors in the gloom, all alike.

Which one was the bathroom? How did a stranger find out? Try each one? Hell!

To his relief he heard the front door open and looked over the stair rail to see Laura coming in.

‘Psst!’ he said urgently. ‘Aiuto!’

‘Pardon?’

‘Help. T’imploro!’

‘Why, what’s the matter?’

‘I need-’ in his panic his English deserted him. ‘Un gabinetto,’ he said. ‘Ti prego-ti prego, un gabinetto.’

Laura knew no Italian but she guessed the frantic note in his voice was the same in every language.