Rivelli agreed, after some persuasion, to allow Victoria to tell her side of the story. He turned up at the flat looking like a whipped dog; his home life was obviously horrific. Normally, he’d have been round like a shot at the first sign of a row with the wife; Victoria could always tell, by the tone of his conversation and the style of his fucking, when things weren’t going well with Janet. But this time she’d been turned down three times before he agreed to sneak over.

‘I promised her I wouldn’t see you,’ he said, glancing down from the windows as if he expected to see spies.

‘You promised her a lot of things when you married her, Massimo.’

‘Don’t remind me.’

‘Well? What’s so different now?’

‘She’s threatening divorce. She’s seen her solicitors.’

Victoria wanted to jump up and down, punching the air and saying ‘Yessss!’, but instead she composed her face and said ‘Oh, hell. I’m sorry.’

‘What did you think you were doing, Victoria?’

‘What did . . .’ She looked shocked, put a hand to her breast. ‘My God, you don’t think that I . . . That it was deliberate, do you?’

‘What am I supposed to think? You turn up at a party to which you are not invited . . .’

‘I was invited.’

He ignored her. ‘Wearing the same dress as my wife. These things do not happen by accident.’

Victoria brought an indignant flush to her cheeks. ‘Wait a minute. Are you suggesting that I set all this up to spark some kind of confrontation? Is that it?’

‘Well?’

She opened her mouth to protest, then closed it again, walked across the room and took three deep breaths. ‘You’d better leave now, Massimo.’

‘I’m not going anywhere.’

‘If you seriously think that after all these years of playing the game by your rules, being the good, discreet mistress who sacrifices everything to make your life easier, I’m suddenly going to turn around and . . . Jesus, Massimo.’ A tear spilled over her cheek. ‘I’ve tried so hard to be what you want me to be.’

‘Okay, okay . . .’

‘And yes, it’s true, I did hope that one day you might realise how much I love you, and that you might . . .’

‘What?’

‘Come on!’ She laughed; more tears fell. ‘Don’t make me say it. Okay – that you might one day divorce Janet and marry me. There.’ She wiped her face, looked around for a tissue to blow her nose. Rivelli gave her a handkerchief. ‘Thanks.’ She blew. ‘I may be a fool, Massimo, but I’m not completely stupid. I know that women in my position have nothing to gain by forcing anyone’s hand. I had my romantic dreams, but they were just that – dreams. I know you’ll never really divorce Janet, and I know I’ll never have you to myself. I’ve learned to be content with what I’ve got.’