“I can’t leave you,” he said. “You’re in shock.” He went ahead of me into the kitchen. “Does your landlady have any grappa?”

“I’m not sure,” I replied.

Leo was opening cupboards and peering on shelves. Then he exclaimed, “Ah, here we are.”

“I shouldn’t drink her spirits without permission,” I said, reverting to true English fashion.

He glared. “I’ll buy her a new bottle if she makes a fuss.” And a glass was put into my hand. “Drink this, then get out of those wet clothes and have a hot bath,” he said.

I took a sip of the liquid. It was fiery, and I started coughing.

“Drink it all. Good for you,” Leo commanded. “I’ll start the bath for you.”

I was downing the rest of the grappa when I remembered the geyser.

“Leo, watch out,” I called. “When you turn on the tap—”

The rest of my sentence was cut off by an impressive whoomph. Followed by a string of Italian swear words. I rushed to the bathroom.

“I nearly lost my eyebrows,” he said.

“I’m sorry. I should have warned you. It has to be treated very carefully,” I said. “I have the knack now, but—”

“Why don’t people ever have things that work properly in their houses?” he demanded. “This must be older than Marco Polo.”

“Let me see.” I turned him towards me. His face had some soot on it. “I think your eyebrows survived,” I said. I wiped off his nose with my finger. “Only you are a little sooty. You’d better wash, or you’ll have explaining to do.”

Our eyes met, and we both started to laugh.

“Oh my God, what next?” he demanded. “At least life with you is never boring. Now take those clothes off.”

And he started to unbutton my dress. I don’t quite know exactly what happened next, but one minute we were laughing and the next we were kissing passionately while his hands fumbled with my buttons and the dress fell to the floor. Then we were stumbling together towards the bedroom, our mouths still kissing hungrily, and then we had fallen to my bed together. I tasted the salt on his lips, felt his warm body against my icy-cold one, knew he was removing my undergarments and couldn’t have stopped if I’d wanted to. But I didn’t want to. I wanted him with all of my being. It was painful and wonderful at the same time. I know I cried out, but I can’t tell whether it was from pain or pleasure.

And when we were both spent, he lay beside me, a look of such tenderness on his face that it melted my heart.