‘It’s boring,’ repeated the boy sullenly.

The two women looked at each other sympathetically. Quick as a flash the lad took his chance to dart away again, and managed to get out of sight around a corner. By the time they followed he’d found another corner and vanished again.

‘Oh heavens! My class!’ wailed the teacher.

‘You go back to them while I find him,’ Della said.

It was easier said than done. The boy appeared to have vanished into the stones. Della ran from street to street without seeing him.

At last she saw two men standing by a large hole in the ground, evidently considering the contents seriously. The younger man looked as though he’d just been working in the earth. Through his sleeveless vest she could see the glisten of sweat on strong, young muscles, and he was breathing hard.

In desperation she hailed them.

‘Did a boy in a red shirt run past? He’s a pupil escaping from a school party and his teacher is frantic.’

‘I didn’t see anyone,’ the older man remarked. ‘What about you, Carlo?’

Before she could react to the name the young man with his back to her turned, smiling. It was the face she’d come to see, handsome, merry, relaxed.

‘I haven’t noticed-’ he began to say, but broke off to cry, ‘There!’

The boy had appeared through an arch and started running across the street. Carlo Rinucci darted after him, dodging back and forth through archways. The boy’s scowl vanished, replaced by a smile. Carlo grinned back, and it soon became a game.

Then the other children appeared, a dozen of them, hurling themselves into the game with delight.

‘Oh, dear!’ sighed the teacher.

‘Leave them to it,’ Della advised. ‘I’m Della Hadley, by the way.’

‘Hilda Preston. I’m supposed to be in charge of that lot. What am I going to do now?’

‘I don’t think you need to do anything,’ Della said, amused. ‘He’s doing it all.’