‘Would you like to come round later this evening? Apparently, Valentina is cooking me supper tonight. You’d be welcome to join us.’

‘No, I wouldn’t want to intrude.’

‘You won’t be, really. Actually, it’s my birthday today,’ he said with a shrug. ‘Anyway, as I said, you’re very welcome.’

‘Happy birthday,’ I said, feeling either irrationally guilty for not knowing, or hurt that he hadn’t told me this sooner. And I wasn’t sure which.

‘Thanks. Well, if you won’t join us this evening, shall I collect you tomorrow and drive you up to the Casa?’

‘Really, Floriano, you’ve done enough. I can take a cab.’

‘Maia, please, it would be my pleasure,’ he reassured me. ‘I can see that you’re upset. Do you want to talk about it?’

‘No. I’ll be fine tomorrow after a good night’s sleep.’ I made to open the passenger door, but as I did so, he placed a gentle hand on my wrist.

‘Remember that you’re grieving. You only lost your father a couple of weeks ago and this . . . odyssey back into your past must be emotionally unsettling on top of it. Try to be kind to yourself, Maia,’ he added softly. ‘If you need me, you know where I am.’

‘Thank you.’ I climbed out of the car, walked swiftly through the hotel lobby and took the lift to my floor. Once in the sanctuary of my room, I let the tears flow. Though precisely what I was crying about, I had no idea.

Eventually, I fell asleep, and awoke feeling calmer. It was past four o’clock, so I took myself off to the beach and had a swim in the bracing Atlantic waves. As I wandered back to the hotel, I thought about Floriano and the fact that it was his birthday. He’d been so very kind to me, perhaps the least I could do was to take round a bottle of wine as a gift.

As I showered the beach from my body, I imagined Valentina, Floriano’s six-year-old daughter, making him supper on his birthday. The image was so poignant I could hardly bear it. Floriano had brought her up almost entirely single-handedly, even though he could easily have handed her over to her grandparents.

I knew that witnessing father and daughter together and the obvious love they shared was what had destabilised me earlier. Not to mention Floriano’s incisive comments about me on the drive up to the convent.

Maia, you have to get over yourself, I told myself firmly, aware that all that had happened and was happening to me was making me feel as though my protective outer shell was slowly being peeled away, revealing my vulnerable inner self. And I had to start dealing with it.

Having dressed, I listened to my phone messages for the first time in three days. Both Tiggy and Ally had obviously heard from Ma about my abrupt departure and were requesting a call back to find out where on earth I was. I decided I’d contact them once I’d met with Yara tomorrow and perhaps then I could tell them exactly why I was here.