Eventually, we walked back and Marina, even though I’d told her not to bother with supper, intercepted us on the way up to the Pavilion.

‘Claudia has made a bouillabaisse which is on the warmer in the kitchen if either of you are hungry.’

‘I am,’ Floriano said eagerly. ‘Thank you, Marina. Will you join us?’ he asked her in stilted French.

‘No thank you, Floriano, I’ve already eaten.’

We sat in the kitchen eating the delicious bouillabaisse, both suddenly aware that this would be our last supper together. As he had already extended his time in Europe, with Valentina’s grandparents kindly agreeing to have her a little longer, I knew he must return home to his daughter. And I . . . well, I didn’t know.

After supper, I took him into Pa’s study to show him what I’d always thought was the best photograph of him and us six girls. And I named all my sisters for him.

‘You’re all so very different,’ he commented. ‘And your father was an attractive man too, wasn’t he?’ Floriano added as he replaced the photograph on the shelf. As he did so, something caught his attention. He stood for a few seconds staring at it intently. ‘Maia, have you seen this?’ He beckoned me over and pointed to the statuette sitting on the shelf amongst Pa Salt’s collected personal treasures. I stared at it, realising why he had asked me.

‘Yes, many times, but it’s just a copy of the Cristo.’

‘I’m not so sure . . . May I take it down?’

‘Of course,’ I said, wondering why he seemed so interested in a statuette that was sold by the thousand for a few reais in any tourist shop in Rio.

‘Look how finely this is sculpted,’ he said, his fingers brushing the grooves of the Cristo’s robe. ‘And look here.’ He pointed to the base, which I could see had an inscription on it.

Landowski

‘Maia,’ he said, his eyes full of genuine wonder. ‘This isn’t any old mass-produced copy. It’s signed by the sculptor himself! Don’t you remember in Bel’s letters to Loen that she talked of the miniature versions Heitor da Silva Costa had Landowski make before they settled on the final design? Here,’ he said as he passed it to me and I took it into my hands carefully, surprised at its heaviness. My own fingers traced the delicately sculpted features of the Cristo’s face and hands. And I knew Floriano was right, that this was the work of a master craftsman.

‘But how on earth would Pa have got hold of it? Maybe he bought it at auction? Or maybe it was a gift from a friend? Or . . . I really don’t know,’ I said as I lapsed into a frustrated silence.

‘Those might be possibilities. But apart from those owned by the Landowski family, the only other two known surviving statuettes are owned by Heitor da Silva Costa’s relatives. It would have to be authenticated, of course, but what a find!’