‘I’ll get you a meal on the way home,’ he persisted.

His hands were on her arms, urging her so firmly that her anger began to grow.

‘Let go of me, Francesco,’ she said in a low voice.

‘I only want to guide you-’

‘So you say. But you’re that close to dragging me. Please let go, because I’m going to eat here.’

‘If it makes it any easier we’ll give you a refund for that part of the fee,’ Ken offered.

It actually made things harder for her, by cutting the ground out from under her feet, making her sound childishly stubborn for the sake of it. But he meant well, so she smiled and yielded.

She was forced to let Francesco help her off the boat and escort her towards the changing rooms. But she knew he was waiting for her outside. She must face him. And then what?

She knew him so well. She could feel his moods tearing apart the darkness around her, and could sense that behind his courteous charm he was in a furious temper that he was determined to conceal. She, too, was in a temper, but less sure about the virtue of concealing it.

Celia said her goodbyes and thanked Ken for a wonderful day.

‘And I don’t want a refund,’ she said. ‘I had a great time.’

‘Er-actually, I’ve already given the refund to your friend.’

‘What? I never said I was going to agree.’

‘He thought he was doing what would please you,’ Ken said placatingly.

‘You mean, he took it for granted that he knew best,’ Celia snapped. ‘How much did you give him?’

He told her, and she immediately plunged into her bag and produced the amount.

‘I do not want a refund,’ she said.

‘Celia, c’mon-’

‘Take it!’

One look at her set face was enough to make him accept the notes.

‘Good,’ she said. ‘Now, where’s the driver I hired for the day? He should be here to take me home.’