This, then, is the “respectable widow” who will curb my headstrong behaviour. I hear Father’s voice in my head, and just like that I am laughing again. But really, if ever there was the polar opposite of the “widow of good standing” of my parents’ imagination, then she is surely embodied in the woman in front of me.

“Sorry, sorry,” I splutter, moving towards the vision before me on the stairs, trying to recover my manners. “I always seem to laugh at just the wrong moment.”

Filomena tips her head. “I think there is no wrong moment for laughter,” she says, a smile curving her generous lips.

“Well, I’m very pleased to meet you,” I manage, pulling myself together and holding out my hand to her.

But Filomena shakes her head.

“None of that.” She steps forward, pressing warm kisses on to each of my cheeks, and I catch the heady scent of amber and cinnamon that clings to her skin. “It has taken me a great effort to rid your uncle and cousin of that terrible English formality. I preferred the laughing.” Her voice is low and musical, a slight Italian accent altering the cadence of her perfect English.

“Don’t horrify the girl,” Leo says, stepping up beside her and taking her hand before pressing it to his lips. “She’ll run home telling her parents that we have devolved into chaos without the influence of good British manners.”

“Bah!” Filomena wrinkles her nose.

“Oh no I won’t,” I say quickly. “Honestly, a break from good British manners sounds quite … wonderful.”

“You see, Leo.” Filomena smiles up at him. “Bea will fit in just right here.”

I like that she calls me Bea, not Beatrice, using the same affectionate contraction as Hero. Somehow it sounds different in her voice, a lazy, drawn-out “ee” that tilts up at the end. At home no one calls me Bea; I am only ever Beatrice. Bea feels like a different person: a new name for this new place.

“Now.” Filomena runs an eye over me. “This poor girl has been travelling for days on end and it is the middle of the night. Hero, I know you will want to be the one to show Bea to her room.”

“Of course!” Hero retrieves my bag and begins to stagger up the stairs.

And just like that I feel exhaustion rush through my body, leaving me swaying on my feet. In spite of all the excitement, the thought of bed is overwhelmingly welcome. I follow my cousin, turning when we reach the top of the stairs to look back down to the hallway. As I do so, I am shocked to see Uncle Leo and Filomena locked in a rather ferocious embrace.