‘Do you live around here?’ Carlo asked.

‘No, I’m just visiting. I’m staying at the Vallini in Naples.’

‘Are you planning to stay long?’

‘I-haven’t quite decided,’ she said carefully.

He swung onto the coast road and they drove with the sea on their left, glittering in the late-afternoon sun. Naples lay ahead, but when they reached halfway he turned off into a tiny seaside village. Della could see fishing boats tied up at the water’s edge, and cobbled streets stretching away between old houses.

He parked the car and made his way confidently to a small restaurant. As soon as they entered a man behind the counter yelled joyfully, ‘E, Carlo!’

‘Berto!’ he yelled back cheerfully, and guided Della to a table by a small window.

Berto came hurrying over with coffee, which he contrived to pour while chattering and giving Della quick, appraising glances.

I’ll bet they see him in here with a new companion every week, she thought, with an inner chuckle.

The coffee was delicious, and she began to relax for the first time since she’d awoken that morning.

‘It was so good to get off that plane,’ she said, giving herself a little shake.

‘You just arrived from England?’

‘You could tell because I’m speaking English, right?’

‘It’s a bit more than that. My mother is English, and there’s something in your voice that sounds a little like her.’

‘That explains a lot about you, too.’

‘Such as what?’ he asked curiously.

‘You speak English with barely an accent.’

He laughed. ‘That was Mamma’s doing. We all had to speak her language perfectly, or else.’

‘All? You have plenty of brothers and sisters?’

‘Just brothers. There are six of us, related in various ways.’

‘Various?’ She frowned. ‘I thought you just said you were brothers.’

‘Some of us are brothers, some of us are “sort of” brothers. When Mamma married Poppa she already had two sons, plus a stepson and an adopted son. Then they had two more.’