Moments later, and Grace was sure that she had found the same place where the black-and-white photo had been taken by the water’s edge. To her left she could see the rows of tall, narrow houses, only in real life they were warm, earthy tones of sun-faded orange and yellow, pink and white. Colourful bunting buffeted between lampposts, giving the place a special carnival atmosphere, even though it was an ordinary day for the people lucky enough to live here. The cafés and shops below, with their awnings extended and paper lanterns swaying in the warm breeze, were exactly the same all these years later. And the domed building on the cliffside, which she now knew from Google was called Divo Martino church, was in the same spot, she could see, as she lifted her phone and placed the picture of the photo up in the air beside it. So it had to be where Connie had stood. And it was glorious and marvellous and thrilling to have time-travelled almost, back to when Connie, a woman in her twenties, had been here too. But the moment was tinged with sadness because Grace couldn’t help wondering how Connie had gone from being here, surrounded by such beauty, to a sparse flat in London.

‘It’s awesome to think that Connie and Giovanni were right here,’ Ellis said, lifting his shades to get a better look at the screen of Grace’s phone. ‘I reckon Connie was just about there …’ He pointed to a spot in front of them.

‘I think so too,’ Grace beamed, her heart lifting on taking it all in, and determined to savour the experience of being here instead of dwelling on Connie’s eventual fate.

‘OK. Strike a pose and I’ll take a picture,’ he said, taking her phone from her hands. Grace had just tidied her hair and straightened her sundress when an older man wearing a black cap came along and said something in Italian to Ellis, motioning with his hands for Ellis to move next to her, presumably so he could be in the picture too. Ellis responded in Italian but the man was insistent, saying,

‘Show her you love her,’ in heavily accented English, and literally took Ellis by the arm and placed him next to Grace. ‘Bellissime,’ he declared, touching his fingertips to his lips in a kiss before majestically lifting the now open hand up to the air. Only, he still wasn’t satisfied, and motioned for Ellis to place his arm around Grace.

‘Do you mind? If only to make an old man happy,’ Ellis whispered out of the side of his mouth, treating her to a big burst of his citrusy scent as he moved in close.