She pulled us both under once more and then bobbed up, choking and crying. She was going to drown us both if she continued like this and nobody came to our rescue. All I could see around me was darkness and waves. I realized I’d have to free myself if I wanted to survive. Let someone else rescue her. I was conscious now of other people in the water, of screams and cries and the sound of motorboats coming towards us. A wave broke over us, and I was dragged under again. I clawed at her hands to free myself and kicked up to the surface, swivelling around so that she was now in front of me. She came to the surface coughing and choking, and I saw the panic in her eyes.

“Maria Vergine,” she gasped. And of course I couldn’t let her drown. I managed to turn her away from me, so that she couldn’t pull me down, and held her head above water. How did you say “Don’t struggle” in Italian? All sensible thought had gone out of my head.

“Be still,” I managed to say. “Help will come.” I just hoped I was right.

I tried to look around as we were borne up on a wave. The current had swept us away from the bridge, and from the odd glimpse I got between waves and rain, it seemed as if the barges might have been torn apart. In any case, there was nothing to grab on to. I wondered how long I could hold her up, whether I could swim with her to shore. I was not the strongest swimmer, having had little opportunity in the cold English seas, and my dress was now clinging to my legs, making it hard to move. I could make out lights in the distance but hopelessly far away. Should I let her go and save myself? The words echoed in my head. But I couldn’t. Then a shape loomed up beside us. Hands reached down, and the woman was dragged onboard a boat. Then the hands came for me, and I was hauled up to safety.

I sat on the wooden deck where I was deposited, coughing and gasping. The woman was crying now, great heaving sobs, and gasping out, “Thanks be to God. Thanks to the Madonna.”

“Must I always have to pull you out of the water?” said a familiar voice, and I looked up to see Leo standing, looking down at me. His tone was light, but I saw the fear in his eyes.

The tension and shock, coupled with the relief, were too much for me.

“Do you have to make a joke of everything?” I replied in English. “I nearly drowned. She couldn’t swim, and she was holding on to me and pulling us both under. If you hadn’t come . . .” And I swallowed back a sob.