I searched again, checking behind the large dresser that had previously been hidden beneath a dust sheet, and inside its cupboards and drawers. I patted my hands along the wall in case there was a hidden cabinet, or a door that might open into a secret room. I looked in the walk-in cupboard under the stairs that was full of junk, toys and games, suitcases, an old vacuum cleaner; an assortment of objects, but no picture. So it wasn’t where it had been left when the villa was closed. Someone must have moved it since.

When Joe returned, he spent a while carrying tools from the car into the villa. I told him about our visitor, but he did not look at the puppet nor make any comment about Matilde Romano, his mother’s one true friend.

‘She looks exactly like Grandma Mouse,’ I told him as he ran the pad of his thumb along the blade of a shear. ‘You must remember her.’

‘Grandma Mouse?’

‘No! Signora Romano! She must have been here often if she was Anna’s best friend. She’s tiny, like a bird. Don’t you remember a very small woman with frizzy hair?’

‘I never paid much attention to the adults out here.’

No, I thought, you were probably too busy having fun with Valentina.

‘Anyway, she wants to buy the villa,’ I said. ‘She used to love coming here and she has great memories of the place. She says she can pay cash. We don’t have to do anything, just get it valued, and she’ll take care of everything after that.’

He was silent.

‘Aren’t you pleased?’ I asked.

He shrugged. ‘It’s just a bit odd, some random woman turning up like that.’

‘She’s not some random woman, she was your mother’s best friend.’

Joe wasn’t reacting as I’d expected. He didn’t look as if I’d just told him about a stroke of good fortune that would save us both a great deal of time and trouble. Instead, his face clouded and he turned from me and walked away.

I thought I knew what was wrong. Despite what he’d said, he was going to find it painful to part with the villa, even knowing it was going to someone who knew it well, someone who was likely to look after it. He’d been expecting to have more time to get used to the idea of selling. It was all happening too quickly.

I could have gone after him and tried to reason with him, but I remembered how he used to be when we were married, when he was upset about something. The best thing to do was to leave him alone and wait until he’d sorted things out in his head.

All he needed was a little more time to process his grief and accept the inevitable.

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