He fished around but couldn’t locate the switch. “Momento.” He reached into his pocket and flicked on a cigarette lighter. “I still don’t see it. We’d better go up. You go ahead.”

He held up the lighter as Caroline went up the stairs ahead of him. As she reached the first landing, she turned to look for the second staircase, let out a scream and stepped back, bumping into Luca and almost knocking them both down the stairs. A white figure hung in the doorway to her left.

She grabbed on to Luca. “That thing. A ghost! Over there.”

“It’s okay. I’ve got you,” he said, his arms coming around her. His own voice was shaky.

Luca held up the light, then laughed. “A painter left his white coat over a ladder.” Then without warning he let the lighter snap shut, wrapped her into his arms and kissed her. Caroline was so startled that she didn’t know how to respond, only aware of his mouth, cold lips, pressing ravenously against hers. And to her embarrassment she found herself responding to him.

“I’m sorry,” he said as they broke apart. “But when a strange woman throws herself into my arms for the second time in one night, it is a little hard to resist.”

“Don’t apologize,” she said. “I did fling myself at you, didn’t I?” She laughed, uneasily. “Besides, I rather liked it.”

Luca had rekindled the lighter and found a switch on the wall. The landing was bathed in the harsh light of a bare light bulb, revealing the painter’s white coat draped harmlessly over the ladder. They went up the second flight and then through the storage space, where Caroline opened the door leading up to her flat. After what had just passed between them, she wasn’t quite sure how to handle Luca’s presence. This is crazy, she thought, but she had to show him. She had to verify for herself what instinct had told her.

She let them into the flat and then took off her mac. “Take off that wet overcoat,” she said. “Should I make us a hot drink? Why don’t you sit down and let me find the sketchbook I want to show you.” She realized she was talking rather fast. Nervous. Now that he was here, she was feeling awkward.

“What about a glass of wine first? All those stairs have made me thirsty,” he said. He was already walking through to her kitchen, where he found an open bottle and poured two glasses. “You need a refrigerator,” he said. “Although this is quite cold.”

He handed her a glass, and they clinked them together in a toast, his eyes challenging hers.

“I’ve just been thinking,” he said. “If what you say is true, then we are cousins. What a pity.”

“You don’t want to be my cousin?”