‘She was distraught. I simply didn’t believe it. I adored my father and he acted as though he adored me. He used to call my name first when he came home. I thought it would always be like that.’

‘Go on,’ he said gently, when she paused.

‘Well, his girlfriend was pregnant and he wanted a quick divorce so that he could marry her before the child was born. We were out. Mum said he even forced her to go back to England by threatening to be mean about money if she didn’t.’

Marco thought of Guiseppe d’Estino, a fleshy, self-indulgent man of great superficial charm but cold eyes, as he now realised. He could well believe this story.

‘It must have been a sad life for you after that,’ he said sympathetically.

‘I kept thinking he’d invite me for a visit, but he never did. I couldn’t understand what I’d done to turn him against me. My mother never recovered. She grieved every day of her life. She only lived another twelve years, then she had heart trouble and just faded away. I thought he’d send for me then, but he didn’t. I was about to go to college and he said he didn’t want to interrupt my education.’

Marco murmured something that might have been a swear word.

‘Yes,’ Harriet said wryly. ‘I suppose I was beginning to get the picture then, very belatedly. I was rather stupid about it really.’

‘The one thing nobody could ever call you is stupid,’ Marco said, regarding her with new interest. ‘I know that much about you.’

‘Oh, things,’ she said dismissively. ‘Anyone can learn about things. I’m stupid about people. I don’t really know much about them.’

‘Or maybe you know too much about the wrong sort of people,’ he said, thinking of the father who’d selfishly cast her off, and the mother who’d made the child bear the burden of her grief. ‘Did your father totally reject you?’

‘No, he kept up a reasonable pretence when he couldn’t help it. I studied in Rome for a year. I chose that on purpose because I knew he’d have to take some notice of me. I even thought he might invite me to stay.’