Piero clapped him on the shoulder. ‘A man after my own heart. I do, so you do.’

Zia laughed and threw her arms around Piero because she was just so joyful that she wanted to share every atom of it with him. ‘We want it to be at Santa Lucia church … of course.’

‘Of course!’ cried Lucia, who looked back to her old, healthy self.

By the end of the evening so many toasts had been drunk that even Gerardo had had enough. At least – under the watchful eyes of wife, grandparents, aunt, uncle and children – he said he had.

It was late when Zia and Piero got home to Il Rifugio. Zia didn’t know if she was giddier with champagne or with joy. ‘Laura, Caterina and Riccardo all seemed to have a lot of affection for Gerardo, just as Lucia and Durante do,’ she chattered as, hand-in-hand, they climbed the stairs up to Piero’s bedroom – her bedroom too now.

Piero kissed her hair. ‘I thought the same. Maybe he’s not all bad.’

‘I doubt he’s all good though.’ Zia sighed. ‘I hope one day I’ll stop being wary of him.’

They reached the bedroom, the bed still rumpled from their siesta earlier. Zia turned to Piero and undid his top button so she could kiss the skin at the base of his neck. ‘Maybe we’ll form a bond or maybe he’ll disappoint me all over again. Who knows? At least searching …’ Another button, another kiss. ‘… for him …’ Another button, another kiss. ‘… led me …’ Another button, the longest, slowest kiss of all. ‘… to you.’

Piero pointed to the next button. ‘Don’t stop, cara. I like where we’re going.’

Acknowledgements

It was an out-of-the-blue idea to write about a character whose search for her past included finding someone whose name she shared. This idea carried me off on an engrossing and emotional journey to Italy at a time when flights of the imagination were particularly valuable. As always, I shamelessly tapped others for help and I’d like to extend my thanks to each of the following wonderful people:

Maureen Duckworth and I were at school together in Northamptonshire, England. It was fascinating to hear of her search for birth parents, half-siblings and aunts, and the disappointments and unlooked-for consequences. I’m indebted to her for her openness and setting me on the correct track for so many aspects of Zia’s story.