Finally, she selected a site and entered her details, ticking Trying to trace family member/friend then entering Harry’s name in the space reserved for target. The term gave her an uncomfortable feeling, as if she wished Harry harm instead of just wanting to talk to him about Vicky and Tori. Consulting one of his old letters, she typed in his last known address.

She’d just realised her credit card was still in Villino Il Pino so she couldn’t pay and submit without intruding on Ursula’s privacy, when she caught sight of a familiar figure crossing the drive. The figure waved and changed course towards her. Suppressing an urge to smooth down her clothes, she smiled as Piero drew near.

‘Ciao,’ he called and took the other seat at the table, brushing back his hair as the wind’s fingers combed it mischievously into his eyes. ‘Thanks for leaving the glass in the workshop. You saved me a long trip on a tricky day.’

As he’d brought the subject up, she felt able to ask, ‘How did the family conference go?’

He snorted. ‘Apparently, Graziella’s been interpreting lawyers’ emails in the way she thought most likely to result in the Binotto deal going through. The law firm agreed with your view of the access question all along.’

She watched him. The set of his lips didn’t speak of satisfaction and a V between his eyes suggested tension. ‘So … that’s good?’ she asked experimentally.

He shifted restlessly. ‘It seemed as if it would be, because Papà and Emiliano were initially shaken by discovering the truth. But they still want to sell and Binotto’s is still the only offer, so Papà’s talking to them again but from a different angle now he knows the facts.’ Then, as if sick of the subject, ‘What have you and Ursula been up to?’

‘Wandering around Lake Trasimeno today. Yesterday we did the tourist thing in Orvieto then later hit a nightclub in Montelibertà. It made me wonder where Tori used to work, so I asked Lucia this morning. It’s a bar/restaurant, now called Altarocca, and we’re going into town to try it for dinner. It’s just off Piazza Santa Lucia.’

‘I know it.’ His gaze dipped to her lips and she thought he was about to suggest he accompany them but, instead, he said, ‘I understand I’ll see you at lunch tomorrow. You’ll meet Paola and Priscilla.’

Constantly mulling over the Gerardo situation, maintaining a smile for Ursula’s sake as they played tourist, she’d forgotten there would be other guests. ‘So I understand. Are they particular female friends?’ she asked, remembering the phrase he’d used once before and lingering over the word ‘particular’.