After that, we sat in silence, listening to the rain. The kittens played about us. When Valentina said she had to lie down, I took her upstairs into Anna’s old room, moved my things and made up a clean bed. Valentina climbed onto the bed, a candle flickering in a jar beside her. I covered her over. She asked Francesco to stay with her and he lay beside her on the bed. They lay there quietly, in each other’s arms. It was good to see them together, mother and son. I remembered how I used to climb into Daniel’s bed when he couldn’t sleep and how we used to lay like that too. Poor Francesco’s face was swollen with crying; his heart was breaking.

Valentina whispered endearments and reassurances. ‘It’ll be okay, honey. Everything’s going to be okay.’ I could see the baby moving inside her.

Hours passed and the storm had abated before I heard the front door open and Joe’s footsteps in the hall. He came to find me in the kitchen. I saw his eyes run over the injuries on my face. He stood beside me, his hand holding mine. His breathing was slow.

Outside, somewhere beyond the window, the first notes of birdsong rang out.

‘Is there any news on Gabriele?’ I asked.

‘It’s not looking good.’

‘What did you tell the police?’

Joe was silent.

I lined up the pieces of his silence. ‘You told them you were driving the Alfa Romeo, didn’t you?’

‘Yes.’

The darkness pressed in around us. A gust of wind blew raindrops against the window, and then it became quiet outside.

Silence. Our breathing. A mosquito in a high corner of the room whined.

‘If Gabriele dies, people will believe you caused his death,’ I whispered, ‘they’ll hold you responsible.’

‘I’d had nothing to drink,’ Joe said. ‘I was insured. I’ve passed my driving test.’ All the things that Francesco didn’t, wasn’t, hadn’t.

I heard a movement upstairs, a floorboard creaking, but it was nothing. It was my mind playing tricks.

The white kitten appeared. He tiptoed along the edge of the wall and disappeared into the shadows. I glimpsed Daniel’s face at the window; pale and ghostly, anxious, watching.

‘Everything’s going to be all right,’ Joe said quietly. ‘Everything’s going to be fine now. It’s sorted.’

And I could tell from his voice that, finally, he was at peace with himself. He couldn’t save our son, but he believed he could save Valentina’s.

I looked back to the window. Daniel was gone.

I rested my head on Joe’s shoulder. He rested his head against mine.

More birds were singing now and a melancholy light was creeping across the sky, a reluctant dawn breaking.

Joe and I were so close I couldn’t tell where I ended and where he began.

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