‘He loves cars,’ I said. ‘After he’s finished school, he wants to find an apprenticeship with a garage and learn how to fix engines. Eventually, he’d like to have his own business.’

Joe nodded. His eyes had become wistful. He was thinking about Daniel, who had been crazy for cars too. His first word was: ‘Brum,’ making the noise as he pushed a toy car along the carpet in the living room of our London flat. He loved to stand at the window, watching traffic passing on the road outside. When people asked him what he wanted to be when he grew up, he used to say ‘a car man’. That was until he discovered heavy machinery and fell thrall to the wonders of bulldozers, cranes and piledrivers.

‘Brum,’ I murmured. I hadn’t meant to say the word out loud, but it came, and Joe looked up so sharply, I knew that he knew exactly what was going through my mind.

He held my eyes for a moment and then he looked away.

It had been an opportunity for the two of us to connect and to talk about the son we had lost, but once again, we let it slip. We’d spent so long missing Daniel separately; it had become impossible for us to share our grief together.

23

A few days later, the estate agent came, together with his assistant, a cocksure young man in a tight-fitting grey suit. The younger man went about the villa’s grounds taking photographs and measurements while Joe showed the agent around, the two of them talking Italian.

After they’d gone, Joe and I walked together through the gardens.

‘Vito was right,’ said Joe. ‘The villa’s not worth anything.’

‘It can’t be worth nothing! Look at it, it’s beautiful,’ I lowered my voice, as if to protect the feelings of the villa; to keep our plans secret from its ghosts.

Joe shrugged. ‘The agent said people don’t want draughty, old palazzos any more.’

‘He called our villa a “draughty old palazzo”?’

‘They want insulated new-build apartments with loads of bathrooms and smart air-conditioning systems and maybe a little balcony outside. He said whoever buys the place will buy it for the land and then apply for a redevelopment grant to build holiday homes. That’s the only way to make money from it.’

‘Signora Romano’s not going to do that.’

‘She says she’s not.’

‘No, honestly, Joe, she’s not. She cares about the villa. She loves it. She wants to buy it to live in it, to keep all the memories alive.’