When the champagne had arrived he began to reminisce once more about his childhood.

‘I’ll never forget the day my father brought me to Florence for the carnival in the streets. We went through it together, visiting all the stalls. He was as much a kid as I was. At least, that’s what my mother always said.’

‘How old were you when she died?’

‘Eight.’

‘How sad! And your father never remarried?’

‘No, he said he never would, and he stuck to that until his own death.’

‘Your father sounds like a delightful person,’ she said warmly.

‘He was. Of course, Rinaldo thought he was too frivolous, always joking when he should have been serious. Poppa would tease him and say, “Lighten up, the world is a better place than you think”.’

‘Now you’re doing it,’ she told him. ‘Bringing the conversation back to Rinaldo.’

‘I know. As you say, it’s hard not to.’

‘What did he used to say when your father teased him like that?’

‘Nothing, he’d just scowl and remember something that had to be done somewhere else. I’ll swear nothing matters to him but work.’

‘Well, I suppose that’s good in a way,’ Alex said. ‘The work has to be done.’

‘Hey, I do my share. It’s just that, like Poppa, I believe in having fun too.’

‘Has Rinaldo always been gloomy?’

‘He’s always been serious, but it’s really only since his wife died that he’s actually been morose.’

‘His wife?’ Alex echoed, startled.

‘Yes, her name was Maria. She came from Fiesole, a tiny little town near here. They were childhood sweethearts. I think they got engaged when they were fifteen. They married when they were twenty.’

‘What was she like?’ Alex asked curiously.

She was trying to imagine the kind of woman who would attract Rinaldo, but she found it hard to picture him in love.