‘How do you know it wouldn’t work?’

‘Because you and me can’t be together.’

‘Joe…’

‘You despise me,’ he said, ‘remember? And if I’m honest, Edie, I don’t like you very much either.’

29

We returned to the car and drove on in silence, Joe’s words stinging all the way back to the villa. He’d never spoken to me so bluntly before; in the past, no matter how cruel I’d been to him, he’d never retaliated. I hadn’t realised how much a few cold words could hurt. And it was painful to know that someone who once loved me now disliked me to such an extent he wouldn’t even talk about the possibility of a mutual project. Along with the sorrow was frustration. We’d never talked through the implications of keeping the villa, never considered them because we’d both been so desperate to get away from one another. I wished, now, that we hadn’t been so hasty.

Joe parked the Fiat in its usual spot and we got out. The air was still warm. The sea was gently patting the rock. The insects were singing and the bats were hunting above us, invisible ghosts blacking out streaks of the sky, stars twinkling.

Joe didn’t say anything. I struggled to contain my emotions and act normally; I didn’t want to push him further away by speaking thoughtlessly but it was difficult to keep quiet when there was so much I wanted to say. Mostly, I wanted to make him tell me that he hadn’t meant what he’d said, but I was afraid, deep down, that he had. I lifted two bags of shopping from the back seat and carried them across to the gates. By the light of the lantern above it, I could see a small, dark lump on the gravel. I put the bags on the ground, went closer and looked down.

‘Oh! Joe!’

‘What is it?’

Joe came and crouched beside me, the two of us looking down at the body of the little black and white cat that lived in the villa’s gardens.

‘Is she dead?’ I asked.

Joe reached out a hand and smoothed the cat’s shoulder.

‘Yes, she’s dead.’

‘Oh, dear God!’ I clamped my hands to my mouth.

Joe looked around, as if he believed whoever had hurt the cat might still be lurking in the shadows of the villa’s wall.

I shivered and my eyes searched the darkness too. That primordial fear, the sensation of being watched – hunted – was stronger than ever. My head turned from left to right. My ears were pricked. My senses were on high alert.

‘What do you think happened?’ I asked, my voice a whisper in case someone, or something, malevolent was nearby, observing us, waiting for an opportunity to strike.