She watched as the waiter poured mineral water into their glasses, Dinah taking a long draught, then sighing gratefully. ‘We did the stunning cathedral, then the Garibaldi place, which was a trifle dull, I thought. The others were off up to Brunate in the funicular, but I simply can’t do heights any more. So Jared, bless him, organized a cab.’ She gave her godson an apologetic smile, patting his hand across the table. ‘I feel bad, depriving you of all those marvellous views, darling.’

Jared shook his head. ‘I’ve seen them before, Dinah. Much nicer to sit here with you, having a nice cool drink, than be stuffed into a lurching tin box, forced to listen to oohing and aahing in six different languages.’

Connie gave a dutiful laugh, but eyed him, thinking he was being unnecessarily derogatory about his fellow tourists.

‘It is maddening being old,’ Dinah said wistfully. ‘I used to love funiculars, ski lifts, views from the tops of mountains.’

Jared’s voice was suddenly full of kindness. ‘There’s lots of other things to enjoy. We’ve got the Villa Cipressi gardens tomorrow. You’ll love them. Maybe the wisteria will still be out.’ He turned to Connie with a charming smile. ‘Are you coming with us?’

Feeling bad for her hasty initial assessment, she nodded. ‘So you’ve been here before?’

‘Absolutely,’ Jared replied airily. ‘Travelling is my thing.’

She realized he was unusually tanned for an Englishman in early May and wondered where else he had been.

At dinner that night she sat with Ruth and Ginty, friends from college, now in their late sixties, who met up every year for a holiday without their husbands. Connie always ate with her flock, but moved around to sit at different tables, so that by the end of a tour she had engaged with everyone at least once. The group tended to form their own allegiances, making friends and pairing up as the week went on. Sometimes she was eating with five or six, sometimes only two. A solitary traveller could pose a problem – she had to make sure he or she was accommodated and never left to eat alone.

Connie occasionally found supper conversation heavy going, but mostly her fellow diners were buzzing with what they’d seen that day and eager to chat about what was coming up tomorrow. Tonight would be easy: Ruth and Ginty were lively, mischievous and loved nothing better than a good gossip.

‘So, the godson.’ Ginty lowered her voice and widened her blue eyes dramatically at Connie. Jared and Dinah were tucked against the wall on the far side of the large dining room, whose windows looked out onto what was now a breathtaking indigo and gold sunset. ‘I’m thinking he might be gay. But Ruth insists otherwise.’

They both waited expectantly for Connie to reply.

‘You know I can’t comment,’ she said, with an amused smile.