‘I didn’t say he was ill. I said you’d make him ill.’ Graziella tilted her nose in the air.

She’d said he ‘was making’ his father ill but he left the room and returned to his own desk without pointing that out, knowing he’d been sent on a guilt trip. Salvatore and Emiliano could reconcile themselves to him giving up the home he loved on the shelf above the valley, a prospect that gave him a bellyful of lead.

And if he accepted the deal it would sell Lucia and Durante down the river as the lawyers said that if he sold, they’d be forced to sell too. They couldn’t reach their property without crossing his.

The rest of his day passed in resolving supply chain issues. Salvatore and Graziella had driven off somewhere, to Piero’s relief. The more contact he had with Graziella, the less he wanted. Emiliano was out on the vineyard.

Unable to concentrate, Piero quit his office, striding out into the sunlight. High up in the vineyard he could see Emiliano doing what he’d do frequently until the October harvest: inspecting grapes with Dino, a member of vineyard staff. He set off up the slope. When Emiliano caught sight of him, he said something to Dino and headed down. The brothers met in the middle of a row where their only companions were hovering insects and the breeze that rustled the vines.

‘Ciao,’ Emiliano greeted him guardedly.

Piero jumped in. ‘What are your views on the way Graziella’s acting? She told me off today.’ He recounted the incident of Graziella storming into his office.

Emiliano laughed in disbelief. ‘That’s unacceptable.’

‘Agree.’ Piero felt a flutter of relief. They’d grown up as allies and his big brother setting himself against Piero was almost as disquieting as Salvatore listening to Graziella ahead of his own son.

Cautiously, Emiliano said, ‘Papà’s in love. We’d be unwise not to accept it.’

Piero shrugged. ‘I accept his right to love a woman who’s not Mamma. It’s … this woman. Or, at least, the way she’s trying to force an issue that isn’t hers to force. She’s changing him. He’s not the impetuous, quirky man he used to be, going his own sweet way. He’s letting himself be influenced.’

‘She’s forthright,’ Emiliano conceded, turning over a vine leaf to inspect its underside.

‘Bossy. Pushy.’ Piero amended. ‘Selfish.’

Emiliano waggled his eyebrows. ‘“Forthright” would be more diplomatic.’ Then he pulled Piero in for an understanding hug. ‘We’ve put you in a crap position. It’s unfortunate the offer suits Papà and me but not you.’

‘No kidding.’ Cheered by brotherly love that could survive being on opposite sides of a fence, Piero made his way downhill again while Emiliano rejoined Dino up the slope.

After returning to his desk to pick up his laptop, Piero drove home.