Tessa thought that it would be so nice for James to get to know Sydney’s friend Mrs Kerr really well before they went back to England, so she planned a surprise on her own account, hired a car for the afternoon and invited Mrs Kerr and Milton to drive with herself and Sydney up to a village high in the hills; from which, she had heard, one could look right over a ridge and see a quite unbelievable number of other hills whose similarity to one another made one surprised at the size of the world. There would be also a church with a very dark, old-looking painting, and a pâtisserie kept by a lady from Nice where they gave you an excellent tea. The weather never let Tessa down; the afternoon was delicious. Milton sat in front with the driver, Mrs Kerr and Sydney behind with Tessa, protesting that this was ideally comfortable, wedged in tightly between them. The old Fiat rushed up the valley with a loud rattling sound, screeched at a change of gear and took the ascent laboriously. The hill leaned forward over a void, and the hundred hairpin corners they bumped round negligently made Tessa catch her breath. ‘We would be killed at any moment,’ said Mrs Kerr, ‘if Mrs Bellamy were not too valuable.’ When they came to the top they got out painfully, looked at the view at the other side then walked out two by two to the monastery, followed by all the little boys of the town. Tessa every now and then whispered to Sydney that Mrs Kerr and James seemed to be making such friends – didn’t they?–and getting on excellently. ‘I was sure they would, they are both so clever. I think we’ll keep a little farther behind them. Sydney, they may be wanting to talk about you.’