Polly chuckled. ‘You mean he doesn’t bother with any of that subtlety nonsense?’

‘Ruggiero wouldn’t recognise subtlety if he met it in the street. His head has a granite exterior which you have to thump hard to make him believe what he doesn’t want to believe.’

‘And under the exterior?’

‘I suspect there’s something more interesting. But he keeps it a secret even from his nearest and dearest. In fact, especially from his nearest and dearest. He hates what he calls “prying eyes”, so don’t make it too clear that you’re concerned for him.’

‘No, I think I gathered that before,’ she said wryly. She glimpsed Ruggiero across the room and added, ‘From the way he’s moving his left arm I think his shoulder’s hurting.’

‘Yes-you might find it useful to rub some of this into it,’ he said, handing her a tube of a preparation designed to cool inflammation.

‘And I’m sure he has concussion.’

‘I doubt it’s serious, since he seems well able to remember what happened. But he needs an early night. See if you can get him to take a couple of these.’ He handed her some tablets.

‘They might do his headache some good,’ she said, nodding as she recognised them.

‘Headache?’ the doctor demanded satirically. ‘What headache? You don’t think he admits to having a headache, do you?’

‘Leave him to me,’ she said. ‘I’m used to dealing with difficult patients.’

They nodded in mutual understanding. Then something made Polly look up to find Ruggiero watching her, his lips twisted in a smile so wry that it was almost a sneer. Of course he knew they were discussing him, and he wasn’t going to make it easy for her.

Then Evie was by her side, taking her to meet the family. Carlo and Della, the newlyweds, had left for their honeymoon, but everyone else was there. While Polly was sorting out the clan in her mind, Hope appeared beside her.