Cara pauses. It’s more difficult to explain how, afterwards, it became clear that there was going to be no proposal of marriage; to tell them how Joe explained to her that he was already engaged to be married and he was assuming that she’d be happy to be his mistress. She tells them how, ashamed, humiliated, shocked, she seized her case, which was still standing by the door, grabbed her bag, and ran out. Joe followed her, trying to prevent her, still behaving as though she was being totally irrational. Outside the front door of the flat he was laughing at her, calling to her. And when she shouted at him again, he leaned back against the banister rail and flung both arms up in mock fear, still laughing at her as the banister gave way. She can remember his scream as he fell, the thump as he hit the ground three floors below, and then the silence.

‘I ran away,’ Cara says.

She stares at her hands, now clasped together on her knees.

‘When I got down to the hall I could see that he was dead – his neck was broken – and then I heard a door opening; voices. I panicked. I could only think that I knew no Italian, that I couldn’t explain and that I might be thrown into prison. I ran out into the street and then I walked and walked. Eventually I remembered that Max had given me Philip’s address. Philip was his oldest, closest friend and he was stationed at the British Embassy in Rome. I saw a taxi, showed the driver the piece of paper with the address on it, and he took me there.’

She takes a gasp of breath but she can’t stop. It must all be told now. She doesn’t look at Hal or Fliss, or at Sam, who kneels in silence watching her.

‘Philip was amazing. He was calm, he let me cry, he looked after me. The next morning he took me to the airport and booked us on the next flight home. When we arrived in London he hired a car and then he drove me to Norfolk to stay with his mother. I loved his mother. She was the kindest woman I’d ever met. I don’t know what he told her but she just treated me as if I was suffering from some terrible bereavement. She looked after me while he returned to Rome. He told me to speak to no one and that he would come back to see me in a few days.’

At last she raises her eyes and looks at them. They don’t look disgusted, just horrified, shocked. Fliss reaches out and holds Cara’s clasped hands tightly.

‘What an utterly appalling thing to have happened.’

Cara stares at her, hardly able to believe what she hears: no condemnation or drawing back. She nods, wipes away some tears.