Fiona and Gus were on time for the brief stroll through to St Mark’s Square. And once they were there, Julie distracted them from the slowly marching hands of time on the clock tower by reading aloud from the guidebook. ‘Okay. This area by the water’s edge is known as the Molo and these columns were carried home from Tyre by the Doge Michieli in 1125.’ She turned the page. ‘In fact, he brought back three, but one fell into the sea as it was being unloaded here. Huh. How about that?’

No one was listening to her. Kate glanced at her watch, as if it were a more reliable mark of time than the clock above them. She returned to surveying the groups of tourists across the square.

‘Relax, Kate,’ Julie whispered.

Kate didn’t answer. She felt foolish for agreeing to meet here now. Venice was a hostile intelligence service’s dream location. ‘Why would they try anything?’ Julie said, reading her mind. ‘Stuart would never let them.’

Kate tore her eyes away from the survey of the square and glanced at her watch one more time. ‘All right.’ She looked at Julie. ‘Just give me ten minutes, okay?’

‘Yes, as we agreed.’

‘What are you going to say to him?’ Fiona asked. Her voice was softer now.

‘I don’t know, love.’

‘It would help if you told us.’ She glanced at her brother, who looked uncomfortable in a way he usually reserved for encounters with members of the opposite sex.

‘I’m just going to talk about the arrangements for this visit and how we might work things in the future. If there’s somewhere you’d be able to stay with him and so on.’

‘Are you going to talk to him about what happened?’

‘I don’t think so. I’m not sure how that would serve any of us.’ She rubbed her daughter’s shoulder affectionately, but got no response.

Kate set off across St Mark’s Square, weaving her way through the shoals of slow-moving tourists, then turning into Ala Napoleonica. Once she was out of view of Julie and the children, she paused by a shop and pretended to browse the jewellery display in the window as she glanced back the way she had come.

Nothing was amiss. Perhaps Julie was right. Why would anyone be watching her?

Kate walked on and paid her entry fee for the Correr Museum further down the street. She went into the cool, quiet interior and browsed through the costume section, with its fine collection of ancient fashions and silk banners.

‘Hello, love.’

She swung around. Stuart was dressed in black jeans and a blue T-shirt, with a stylish leather jacket and trainers. He had shorter hair and designer stubble. He’d lost some weight, half a stone, perhaps more. He looked much more like the funny, irreverent young man she’d fallen so heavily in love with all those years before.

The one she’d known instantly she wanted to build a life with.

‘You look well,’ he said.