Hedy kept an intermittent watch on the trail and the house all day, and there was much foot traffic, people and donkeys delivering crates of wine, food, flowers, and anonymous cartons. She managed to snatch two oranges from another donkey, but she was very, very hungry.

Night came, but activity still continued in the kitchen, at the rear of the house, until after midnight. Finally, at around two AM, the house went quiet. Hedy crept out of her hiding place and padded down the trail to the rear deck, where she peered through the available windows for signs of life. Nothing.

She used her key to let herself in the rear door, leaving it unlocked for a quick escape; there was a night-light in the kitchen, which allowed her to see her way. She snatched a canvas shopping bag from a counter, went to the refrigerator and filled it with salami, ham, and cheeses and a bottle of San Pellegrino sparkling water, tucking a loaf of bread in with them.

She turned to go and spotted something that made her heart leap: an iPhone on the counter, plugged in and charging. She got out her dead phone and unplugged the other. Her heart sank: it was an older model, with the multiple pin connector. Hers was new and used the smaller plug. She turned on the phone and tried to use it, but she didn’t have the password. Sadly, she plugged it back in again and tucked away her own phone.

In the back hall she found cases of wine stacked up. She grabbed a bottle of red, let herself out of the house, locked the door behind her, and returned to her hideaway, where she opened the wine with the corkscrew in her pocket and washed down cheese, bread, and meat until she was replete and more than a little drunk.

She berated herself for leaving the house so quickly, when there must be things there she could use, like a flashlight. Emboldened by the wine, she went back into the house and began to search again, going through all the kitchen drawers. No flashlight.

That done, she tiptoed into the huge living room, where she had been dragged to see Casselli before. She went carefully through the whole room by the light of a single lamp left on, and found not only no flashlight, but nothing else of use to her, except a cashmere blanket hung over a sofa. That, she tucked under her arm, then left the house again. She had been afraid to use the landline phones in the house, for fear of rousing someone, and anyway, she didn’t know any useful dialing codes.

She finished the bottle of wine and, wrapped cozily in the cashmere, fell soundly asleep, determined to make her way out of there on the morrow.

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