And then, later into the trip, when Antonia had tried to ask, above the background hum of the aircraft’s engines, whether Angus had enjoyed the limp, damp sandwich which the airline had so kindly distributed to its passengers, Domenica had again been able to deal with the situation in an entirely satisfactory manner. Angus had been aware of the fact that Antonia was saying something to him, but had not been able to make out what it was.

‘I believe Antonia said something,’ he said. ‘What was it?’

‘It was nothing important,’ said Domenica.

And now, as they taxied on the runway at Pisa airport and Antonia asked about Angus’s witticism, Domenica was again able to fob her off. ‘He made a remark about the control tower,’ she said. ‘That’s all.’

Antonia’s irritation showed clearly. ‘Well, what did he say?’

‘Nothing much,’ said Domenica. ‘Oh, look over there – no, I suppose you can’t see from where you’re sitting – but there’s a set of steps waiting for us. How thoughtful of the dear airport.’

‘They would hardly expect us to jump down from the door,’ said Antonia, in a surly tone.

Angus turned to Domenica. ‘Did Antonia say something?’ he asked.

‘Nothing much.’

They deplaned, as the language of aviation so neologistically puts it, and were then bussed to the terminal, where they were debussed. There then followed a brief and entirely wordless encounter with the Italian border authorities, who glanced at their passports in a pitying way before waving them through.

‘It’s so sad,’ said Domenica, ‘that the land of Dante and Michelangelo should be guarded by such men. Even if they have very ornate uniforms.’

Angus smiled. ‘All Italian officials have splendid uniforms,’ he said. ‘I remember reading about the formation of an Italian railway company in the nineteenth century. They spent much of their time and start-up capital on designing elaborate uniforms for their officials.’

‘They have a proper sense of theatre,’ said Domenica.

Antonia disagreed. ‘Running a railway has nothing to do with theatre. It is all about engineering.’

‘At which these people excel,’ said Angus. ‘Engineering, opera, great art – is there nothing they cannot do?’

‘They are very talented people,’ said Domenica. ‘And I do hope that their talents run to transporting suitcases from A to B without losing them.’

‘And transporting dogs too,’ said Angus.

‘Of course,’ said Domenica. She had forgotten Cyril was with them and had made the trip in considerably less comfortable circumstances, somewhere in the hold.

They need not have worried. By the time they found themselves in the baggage reclaiming area, they saw that Cyril was already there. He too had been deplaned and was sitting patiently in his travel crate with its barred front and its special water dispenser. He knew immediately that Angus was in the room and barked loudly to attract his master’s attention.

‘Cyril!’ shouted Angus. ‘Cyril! Siamo arrivati!’