While Joe made a start on clearing the old footpath from the gates to the front of the villa, I went back upstairs and made up the beds in two bedrooms, Anna’s old room for Joe and the one beside it for me. I closed the door to the master bedroom so I didn’t have to think about the curtained alcove, but as I passed, I heard a scuttering on the other side of the door. It would be a draught from the window disturbing the curtain, or, at worst, mice, I told myself. It was only my anxious mind trying to persuade me it sounded like children trying to keep quiet.

The villa’s original linen was stored in a cupboard on the landing. It was fine quality, but damp, it smelled musty, and moths had been at it. When we had water, I’d wash it and save what I could. For now, I lay our sleeping bags on top of the old mattresses and folded our towels over the old pillows to mask the scents of the past: old heads, old dreams, old lovers. I propped the painting of Anna up against the dressing table mirror in her room, where Joe could see it. I thought it was a thoughtful gesture, and one that I hoped he’d appreciate.

That night, when we were satisfied the villa was secure, we used bottled water to wash and brush our teeth at the kitchen sink by candlelight and went upstairs together, our footsteps echoing in the stairwell. At the top of the stairs, shadows flickering on the walls, Joe asked if I’d searched all the bedrooms for the Madonna del Mare.

‘Pretty much,’ I said, ‘except for the master bedroom. I didn’t want to disturb the place where your grandmother used to pray.’

‘That’s where it’ll be!’ Joe said. ‘She used to keep all kind of religious pictures there.’

He moved towards the door.

‘No!’ I cried, making us both jump. ‘No, not now, Joe.’ I didn’t want him to open that door, not while it was so dark. ‘There’s a draught,’ I said, ‘it’ll blow out the candles. And mice. There are mice. Don’t go in there. Wait until it’s light.’

He shrugged and went into his room. I went into mine.

My bed was so high that an average sized spaniel could have walked underneath without the top of its tail touching the underside, the mattress decadently soft.