He pressed my head down and held me in that position until the dizziness eased. After that, he had me swallow an antihistamine tablet and a couple of co-codamol. He laid me like a princess on one of the grand settees in the living room, on the sunshine yellow, embroidered, shot-silk upholstery with a pillow beneath my head. I lay, draped, until the antihistamine kicked in and my breathing came back and the world stopped moving.

‘Do you want to go upstairs?’ Joe asked.

‘No,’ I said. ‘I want to stay here.’ I wanted to spend more time in the company of the elegant ghosts that inhabited this beautiful room. The sun was setting and the colours were softening and I felt very calm.

‘I think we might have some rain tonight,’ Joe said. ‘I’d better get going.’

‘Joe…’

‘I have to go, Edie. I can’t sit here thinking about what’s going on over there. I promise I won’t be long. An hour and a half tops. You’ll be okay here.’

‘Yes,’ I said. ‘I’ll be fine.’

The painkillers made me sleepy. After Joe left, I closed my eyes and listened to the villa. I heard the wind soughing around the roof and I heard the calls of the house martins who lived in the eaves. Some conflagration of the weather and the woodwork made sounds that were very like whispers, but try as I might I couldn’t pick out any words. Daniel came and curled up next to me and I put my arm around him and drifted off to sleep.

By the time I next opened my eyes, dusk had fallen and the room was in darkness. Daniel was gone. A good moon lit the garden silvery blue for a few moments, but then the clouds blew across the bright face of the moon and the light was muted.

Without putting weight on my sore foot, I limped to the kitchen and lit a couple of candles in case the lights went out. I hobbled around the ground floor, double-checking the windows were closed. I returned to the kitchen, wrapped myself in a blanket and picked up my book. I tried to read, but the rain had started to fall and the sound of the drops pattering against the windows made me jumpy. I poured a glass of wine and curled up in the old basket chair, listening to the rain. In all its years, the villa must have withstood far more severe weather than this and it hadn’t fallen down yet. I sat in the chair and I worried about thunder claps making me jump and wondered if the lights would go off. I listened to sounds that seemed like whispers and others that resembled footsteps. I tried not to feel lonely; I tried not to feel afraid; I tried not to dwell on my isolation, but I was lonely and scared. I was desperate for Joe to return.

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