‘I’ve also seen Cervone. To tell you the truth, I see him every day. I’m staying at the Euproctes campsite. Orsu, too, although I didn’t recognise him. Papé Cassanu, obviously, and Mamy Lisabetta. I didn’t remember Speranza, but …’

‘What are you searching for, Clo?’

I’m trying to provoke you. To get a reaction out of you. To make you smash that bottle of myrtle liqueur against the wall and hurl yourself into the Mediterranean to sober up. I’m trying to talk to you about all the mysteries that are twisting my guts, I’m asking you to help me, you, the only person I can trust.

‘The truth. Is that OK, Natale? I’m searching for the truth! I can unwrap it for you, if you like – everything that’s gone wrong since I came back to La Revellata. Sergeant Garcia, your father-in-law, told me that the steering mechanism of my parents’ Fuego was sabotaged. My papers were stolen too, from the safe in our bungalow. With no signs of a burglary. It’s impossible, but that’s what happened. And that seems almost normal compared to everything else. The letters. You’re going to think I’ve gone mad, but too bad! I’ve had messages from the beyond. Messages from Palma.’

Natale was shaking. He set the thimble down on the table closest to him. As if it were burning his hand.

‘Can you say that again.’

‘A letter, it was waiting for me at bungalow C29. Somebody delivered it there a week ago. A letter to me that only my mother could have written.’ She forced herself to laugh. ‘It’s the kind of thing that would make you believe in ghosts, don’t you think, Natale? If only I still had Lydia’s gift.’

Natale got up. He came towards her with great determination, as if he had suddenly sobered up.

‘They do exist, Lydia.’

‘Lydia?’

‘Clotilde, I mean. They do exist.’

‘Who?’

‘Ghosts.’

Clearly he hadn’t sobered up after all.

‘I’m going to let you in on a secret, Clotilde. It’s something I’ve never dared tell anyone, let alone Aurélia or her father. If I’m living in this house as if it’s a prison, if I’m living with Aurélia, if I’ve abandoned all my dreams one by one, it’s because of ghosts. Because of one ghost in particular. You were right, Clotilde. Ghosts do exist, and they ruin our lives. I know you’re going to think I’ve lost my mind, but I don’t care. You’ve got to go now. Aurélia will be back at midday and I don’t think she’d like to find you here.’

Out of the question. Natale was messing her about.

‘What are you doing with her anyway? And don’t talk to me about ghosts.’