It was difficult to express appreciation for the hospitality she had received and the thought behind it. Camilla had arrived feeling defensive, anticipating among the guests an awkward sympathy for the girl from London who was to celebrate her twenty-first birthday in the company of strangers. She was aware, too, that the lunch party had been arranged as much for Marina as for herself. Now it seemed right. She put her arms around Claudia.

‘Thank you,’ she said. ‘Thank you for all that you’ve done, and for the wise words you put into my head.’

She kissed her mother on the cheek, took her coat and her handbag, and followed Roberto to the garage round the side of the house. His car was low and sleek and he drove fast with the windows open. Camilla’s hand went involuntarily to her forehead where the fall of her fringe had blown away to reveal the scar. He glanced at her, but made no comment. The city spun towards them in the evening light, traffic tumbling on to the streets from every direction. They left the car parked on a busy street with its front wheels up on a pavement. It was cold now and she was glad to be inside the bar he chose. The music was loud and the place was smoky and vibrating with energy. He found a table in a corner where the vaulted ceiling was lit by guttering candles. She was flattered when several people recognised her from Italian fashion magazines where she had featured several months before. They talked, drank champagne and danced, smoked and talked and danced again. Roberto held her lightly, seducing her in an obvious but charming way that was pure old world in character.

‘Tell me about your face,’ he said.

‘I was on holiday back in Kenya. There was a robbery and I was cut by a panga.’

‘It will heal of course, in time. But in your mind, do you still see it? Do you dream about it?’

She was surprised by his question. ‘Yes. I was lucky. We were all lucky that night. But I do have nightmares. They’ll go away eventually, I suppose, but I’m still frightened if I hear footsteps behind me, and I can see the faces of those men when I close my eyes at night.’

‘I have nightmares about my sister and how she died. I think they will never go away, and that scar will never be covered over.’

‘Your mother told me, and I’m so sorry,’ Camilla said. ‘I’m an only child, but I had two very close friends who were like sisters to me. I’ve lost them, though, and that’s much more painful than my bad dreams or my scar.’

She was a little drunk now, and tears were stinging behind her eyes. Roberto leaned forward to kiss her, but the time for flirtation had suddenly passed and she felt a great weariness.