James nodded, not sure what to say. He had never really thought about it, and, if he was to be really truthful, he felt slightly scared. He hadn’t experienced wind this strong before; it seemed to have an almost physical presence, as if it were some giant, invisible beast tugging at him and buffeting him.

He felt suddenly very unsafe. The height unnerved him. He had never been afraid of heights before his experience at the Nuraghic tower, but now he was trembling and nauseous. He fought to control his emotions. This was not like him.

He staggered back across the polished stone ledge on which they were standing into the shelter of the rocks. Victor joined him; it was quieter here, and, away from the edge, James’s vertigo receded.

‘Are you all right?’ said Victor.

‘I think so,’ said James. ‘I just need a moment.’

He took a long deep breath and told himself not to be so stupid. He could cope with this.

He forced himself back out on to the ledge and looked down.

He didn’t want to jump. He knew that if he was careful there was no danger.

His heart rate dropped.

He swallowed.

Something had happened to him back at the tower. Something he didn’t understand. It had knocked him for six, and now he had to control his fears.

‘Better?’ said Victor, walking over.

‘Yes,’ said James. ‘I’m fine.’

Victor pointed down to where the land met the sea.

‘What do you think?’ he said, and James saw the villa properly for the first time. It was built in the shape of a great white octopus. The large central living room was the body, and the various corridors leading off it made up the eight tentacles.

‘I like it,’ said James. ‘I think all houses should look like that.’

‘Poliponi wanted me to paint it red,’ said Victor with a chuckle. ‘We fought over it like two dogs, but in the end I won. It was my money, after all, that was paying for it. White is better, it keeps the heat away. It can get very hot here. What your English schoolteacher is doing organizing a field trip to the Nuraghic monuments at this time of year, I do not know. He will lose half his students to heatstroke. Why did he not come in the spring or autumn when most sensible people visit the island?’

‘I have no idea,’ said James.

‘So,’ said Victor as they started back down, ‘should I ask Mauro to take you sailing this afternoon?’

‘I’m not sure he likes me,’ said James.

‘Oh, that is just his way,’ said Victor. ‘He is very protective of me, and suspicious of outsiders – even if they are family. And, of course, at heart he is a bandit.’

‘Why do you say that?’

‘He is from the Supramonte Mountains,’ said Victor. ‘The Barbagia region.’

‘Oh, yes,’ said James. ‘I’ve heard about the villages hidden away up in the hills, to avoid attacks from the sea.’