‘He means his favourite client!’ Mario boomed in a deep baritone voice with a strong Italian accent as he raised his free hand and slapped Ellis on the back, near winding him with sheer enthusiasm. ‘And his numero uno friend,’ he laughed. Turning to Grace, he said, ‘Benvenuta, signorina,’ and gently took her hand, planted a quick kiss on the back of it and then shrugged dramatically, as if he was in an opera playing Romeo, with his heart yearning for Juliet on that balcony before adding, ‘Bellissima. Come un bel fiore.’ And then in English, ‘Like a beautiful flower. My life was nothing until this moment,’ his Italian accent making the words sound truly romantic and meaningful. Grace stifled a giggle on seeing Ellis shake his head in mock despair for his friend. Mario then gestured generously with both arms open wide to come on into the restaurant before turning and leading the way for them to follow.

‘Sorry about the kiss and all the dramatics,’ Ellis whispered to her as they followed Mario along a dark corridor and through an archway that led into the restaurant. It was full of locals all laughing and talking, while children dashed around giggling and teasing each other … like a big family gathering. So warm and cosy and welcoming. Then, across a terracotta tiled floor, dotted with more people seated at wrought-iron tables covered with all kinds of delicious-looking foods – plump green olives, bruschetta, mozzarella mingled with beef tomatoes, giant pizzas, pasta, meatballs, and lit by candlelight that made the wine glasses twinkle to create a magical ambience. ‘Mario is old-school Italian and hasn’t caught up yet with the modern, politically correct way to greet a woman these days.’

‘Oh, it’s fine,’ Grace assured him, ‘like you said at the airport … when in Rome, and all that,’ she said, attempting a dodgy Italian accent as she shrugged dramatically in the same way Mario had, making them both laugh.