At first he thought she hadn’t heard, so long did she take to reply. Then she shook her head.

‘No,’ she said. ‘He won’t know me. Nobody knows me any more. I don’t know myself, or anybody else. I know who I was then-’

‘Then?’ he queried gently. ‘When was that?’

‘About a year ago-or perhaps a little more. I’ve got the date written down somewhere-’ She saw his troubled face and gave a half smile that was oddly charming. ‘I sound quite mad, don’t I?’

‘I don’t think you’re mad at all,’ he said firmly.

‘You could be wrong about that. I’ve been in a special home for-well, most of the last year. Now I’m trying to find my way back into the world, only I don’t do it very well.’

‘Then it’s lucky you found a safe place, and a friend,’ he said.

‘How can you be my friend when you don’t know who I am? Whoever I was then, I’m someone else now. I just don’t know who.’

‘You must know your name or how could you travel?’

‘My name is Ruth Denver.’

A spoon fell out of Pietro’s hand and hit the terrazzo floor with a ping. Cursing his own clumsiness, he leaned down to pick it up, glad of the chance to hide his face, lest it reveal his shock at hearing the name Ruth Denver.

When he looked up again he was in control and able to say calmly, ‘My name is Pietro Bagnelli.’

‘Gino’s cousin?’ she exclaimed, her eyes suddenly glowing. ‘He told me a lot about you, how you grew up together.’

‘We’ll talk some more in the morning,’ he interrupted her hastily. ‘You’ll be better when you’ve slept.’

He was becoming more disturbed every moment, and needed to be alone to do some thinking before he talked further. If she was who he was beginning to believe she was, he needed to tread with care.

‘I’ll get a room ready for you,’ he said. Pausing at the door, he added, ‘Don’t go away.’

She regarded him quizzically, and he realised he sounded crazy. Where could she go? But he had a strange feeling that if he took his eyes off her she might vanish into thin air.