‘Yes,’ he breathed. ‘I know what that’s like.’

‘It doesn’t end, does it?’

‘No,’ he said gravely, ‘it doesn’t end.’

Pietro closed his eyes, feeling the waves of suffering engulf him again. He’d thought he’d learned to cope, but she brought it back because she was abandoned in the same desert. He could sense her there, her gaze fixed on him, one lost soul reaching out to another.

‘What can you do about it?’ she asked.

‘I don’t know,’ he said. ‘I’ve never known.’

The look she turned on him was terrible, containing a despairing acceptance of something too sad for words.

‘How did you get here?’ he urged.

She looked around. ‘Here?’

‘You’re in Venice. I found you standing in the street outside, just looking up.’

‘I don’t remember.’

‘Never mind, tell me later.’

He returned from the kitchen after a few minutes to find her looking down at her strange attire with dismay.

‘I had to take your clothes off,’ he said quickly. ‘You were sodden. But I swear I didn’t-well-you know-’

To his total astonishment, she smiled.

‘I know,’ she said.

‘You do believe me?’

‘Yes, I believe you. Thank you.’

‘Come and sit down at the table.’

As she came out of the shadows into the light he had a feeling that there was something familiar about her, but he couldn’t place it. He must be mistaken. He wouldn’t have forgotten this girl.

He ushered her to a chair, drawing it out for her and saying, ‘When did you last eat?’

‘I’m not sure. I missed breakfast because I was late, and had to dash. I was too nervous to eat at the airport, or on the plane. The storm was just getting really bad as we landed. I got so scared that I sat in the airport for an hour.’

‘Don’t you have a hotel? I know it can be hard to find one at this time of year. A lot of them close.’

‘Oh, no, I came straight here.’