‘No, and it’s a massive relief! Honestly, Fitz, I can’t even think about how awkward it would have been if he’d wanted to keep it. It could have taken months to sort out.’ I sighed pointedly. ‘As it is, we should have it all wrapped up in a week or two. He says there’s a lot of stuff inside the villa that we need to deal with, but I bet it’s mostly junk. Do they have charity shops in Sicily?’

‘Don’t be too quick to ditch it. You can sell anything online these days.’

‘I just want to be rid of it. It’s going to be mostly her stuff.’

‘If it’s mostly Anna’s, then it’ll be good quality.’

‘I don’t want anything to do with it.’

Fitz sighed.

‘I told Joe we should get someone in to clear the villa, but he wouldn’t listen,’ I continued. ‘If he thinks I’m going to sort through heaps of her disgusting old clothes…’ I shuddered and tailed off.

Fitz was silent, which meant I’d said something of which she disapproved.

I wasn’t sorry. I couldn’t help myself. I couldn’t help being bitter about Anna. It was as if there was a never-ending stream of bile inside me connected to her and whenever I opened my mouth some of it came out. Releasing the anger was the only way I could gain any relief, otherwise it built up inside me, a swirling mass of hatred.

‘She’s dead, Edie,’ Fitz said gently.

‘Yes,’ I said. ‘I know. But that doesn’t make her any less guilty.’

11

The next morning, I dressed and went down to breakfast as soon as the hotel’s tiny restaurant was open, drawn by the smell of coffee and the lure of sweet pastries, hoping I was early enough to avoid the awkwardness of having to share a table with Joe. No sooner had I sat down with a glass of orange juice and a plate of bread and cheese, than he walked into the dining room. His face fell when he saw me.

‘Hi,’ he said, with no enthusiasm whatsoever.

‘Hi,’ I replied in the same tone.

Joe looked around the room. One other table was occupied by a young man in a suit who was simultaneously eating and tapping messages into his mobile phone. Joe was faced with a difficult decision: to join me, or choose to sit as far away as possible. I could see the panic in his eyes and couldn’t bear it.

I pushed back my chair. ‘I’ll go and eat in my room,’ I said. I picked up my plate and my glass.

‘You don’t have to.’

‘No, it’s fine.’ I scrabbled for an excuse, ‘I’m waiting for a phone call.’

‘Right,’ said Joe, making no attempt to hide his relief. ‘I’ll text you when I’m ready to go.’