‘Vito’s drunk and if you humiliate him in front of his friends, you’ll make things worse for Francesco.’

From the corner of my eye, I saw Francesco hunched over, putting the empty glasses into a sink. Valentina was with him, standing beside her son, whispering to him, one hand on his shoulder.

‘Leave them,’ Joe said. ‘Walk away. We’ll think of a way to help him, I promise.’

I shook myself free of Joe’s arm and headed back to the table, picked up my bag, then walked across the terrace towards the harbour, where we’d left the car.

‘Edie…’ Joe’s voice behind me was calm.

I turned. He was holding out my shawl.

‘You dropped this,’ he said.

I snatched it from him and shoved it under my arm.

We drove in silence all the way back along the spine of the headland, past the Intimissimi billboard, the model’s face graffitied with black spectacles and a curly moustache. We turned onto the coast road, but after half a mile or so Joe stopped the car.

‘What are you doing?’ I asked.

‘There’s a viewing point.’

I scowled at him, but I got out and followed him along a little path to a ledge with a railing jutting out over the cliff edge.

The moon was hanging over the sea, its silver light reflected tens of thousands of times on the spines of little lumpy waves. We stood together, looking.

‘Why did you bring me here?’ I asked. ‘Why did we stop?’

‘To give you a chance to calm down.’

‘I didn’t overreact.’

‘I didn’t say you had.’

‘We need to help Francesco.’

‘We will. Only that wasn’t the time. You can’t reason with someone when they’re drunk.’

You should know, I thought. I didn’t say it out loud.

We fell silent and watched the sea. Eventually I relaxed and the atmosphere between us felt peaceful. If this isn’t the right time to speak, I thought, I don’t know when will be.

I took a deep breath and began.

‘Joe, I’ve been thinking…’

‘What?’

‘What if we don’t sell the villa? What if we keep it?’

He didn’t respond.

‘We could convert it into a hotel,’ I continued, ‘or a retreat. If there’s so little money to be made in selling it, then there doesn’t seem much point, and at least it would remain in the family. What do you think?’

Silence.

‘Joe?’

I couldn’t make out his features, only the silhouette of his face. He stared out over the sea as if he hadn’t heard me. An offshore breeze disturbed the hair above his forehead, otherwise he was motionless.

‘I just thought…’ I said, ‘I thought a retreat… I thought it would mean…’ I ran out of words.

‘It wouldn’t work,’ Joe said, after a silence that became more uncomfortable each moment it lasted.