She knew that she’d never return to the West End, not at her age when there were younger, more nimble dancers desperate to realise that dream. But feeling energised and alive here in Venice was making her see that it could be possible to inject some fun and passion back into her life once more. Rejuvenation or self-care, they called it. Grace had read about it in a magazine during one of her late-night duty stints, about the importance of taking time out to do the things that made you feel happy and good about yourself. A long hot bubble bath with a good book (chance would be a fine thing). Grace remembered the last time she had tried and Cora had bellowed the very second Grace’s big toe had touched the velvety, warm water. But she could book in for that long overdue haircut and try out the salted caramel smoothie. Maybe some clothes shopping, too. A trip to the cinema. A walk in the park. She used to love sitting in the sunshine in the long grass and just thinking; watching the world go by as she tracked the clouds drifting across a turquoise sky.

‘And here’s to Connie and finding out her truth,’ Ellis added, smiling and tilting his head to one side.

‘Yes, to Connie,’ Grace said, carefully chinking the side of his glass. ‘And to us finding a living relative.’

*

Later, having enjoyed a delicious meal of the finest ravioli stuffed with lobster in a luscious limoncello sauce, followed by the tastiest tiramisu that Grace had ever had the pleasure of eating, they thanked Mario for his hospitality and stepped onto the gondola that he had arranged to take them on to the townhouse.