I did what I could in the villa, and when I ran out of things to do, I climbed down into the swimming pool and bashed out a few more tiles. I made sketches of the natural pool and what I wanted it to look like. I stepped out the measurements over the lawn and drove in stakes to mark its footprint. It was my pet project and I was keen to see it through.

Joe called the police and asked if there was any news on the search for the Madonna del Mare. There wasn’t, but it was early days, they said. These things always took time.

Liuni’s sister came over and sorted out the electricity. Soon, the plumbing was fixed and at last we could run a hot bath. Cleaning became much easier. I began to work through the linen and soft furnishings, sorting everything that was usable, washing, airing and ironing. Francesco cycled over to the villa whenever he could to work on the car with Joe. He never talked about his stepfather.

One day, Francesco turned up with a tooth missing. He tried to hide it, covering his mouth with his hand when he smiled, but the bloody gap was there and there was bruising around his lips. Joe and I were in no doubt that Vito had caused the damage and our dislike of the man grew. We could hardly talk of him without the pitch of our voices rising and mutual anger souring our conversation. If ever we were in the Eurospin, or out and about in Porta Sarina, and we saw Vito walking towards us, we turned and walked the other way even though he called after Joe, and jeered; made chicken noises.

Other outstanding matters were attended to. I wrote to St Sarah’s, telling them of my intention to resign my position at the end of the next academic year. I talked to Fitz and to Martha and to the handful of other people in my life who deserved to know my plans. The kittens’ eyes opened and they grew stronger and became more active. We kept them in the villa. Joe said we should let them outside, so they could become ‘streetwise’ and learn to hunt, and I allowed them supervised access to the courtyard but was too afraid of losing them to let them run free.

Most of the time, there were people in the villa or its grounds; Joe and his friends, me, Francesco. Sometimes I was aware of the DeLuca ghosts; sometimes I sensed Daniel nearby, sometimes not. It was good to have people, voices, life in the villa again. Every day, it felt a little less abandoned, a little happier. The times when Joe and I were alone became more rare and precious. We worked together on the garden, we ate at the table outside, we swam, we took siestas, we made love, we planned, we worried about not having enough money.