He must have drifted off to sleep for he was awoken at three o’clock by one of his daughters crying. At first he thought he was dreaming; the girls never cried for him. But the crying grew louder and more urgent. He stumbled out of bed and threw his dressing-gown over his pyjama bottoms. When he reached their room Juno was being comforted by Coco. He gathered her into his arms. ‘What is it darling?’ he asked gently, stroking her forehead.
‘Daddy!’ Juno sobbed. ‘I’m frightened.’
‘She’s had a nightmare,’ said Coco importantly.
‘You’re all right now. Daddy’s here.’
‘I think it’s the bear again.’
Sammy appeared in the doorway, her hair dishevelled, her eyes half closed. ‘Is everything okay?’ she asked, folding her arms in front of the skimpy vest top that she wore over floral shorts.
‘It’s fine, Sammy, thank you. You can go back to bed.’ Sammy sloped off. ‘Now, sweetheart, tell me what you dreamed about?’
Juno hugged her caterpillar. ‘A big bear chasing me.’
‘There are no bears in Italy.’
‘It’s not a real bear, Daddy. It’s a monster bear,’ said Coco, climbing back into bed.
‘Well, there are no monster bears. Do you think Granny Romina would put up with any monster bears in her palace?’ Juno smiled timidly and shook her head. ‘Now, I’m only down the corridor if you need me. But if you think of nice things you’ll dream of nice things.’
‘Like Greedy,’ said Coco.
‘And playing Naughty Crocodile,’ Juno whispered, closing her eyes.
Luca tucked her back into bed and kissed her forehead. Then he went over to Coco. ‘I’m sorry she woke you up, darling.’
‘It’s okay, Daddy. I’m used to it,’
‘Would you rather sleep on your own?’
She shook her head. ‘Juno needs me.’
‘You’re a good sister, Coco. Juno’s lucky to have you.’
‘Can I have a cuddle too?’
Luca was touched. Coco’s devotion was harder to win. When he climbed back into his own bed he had experienced an unfamiliar emotion: what it was to be needed.
The following morning, after an early swim with the girls, Luca slipped away to the trattoria to meet Cosima. She was waiting for him in a green dress, her hair loose about her shoulders. ‘Hello, beautiful,’ he said, slipping his hand around her waist and kissing her cheek. The scent of lemons transported him back to the evening before up at the fort.
She looked around furtively. ‘Careful, Luca. Things are not so good between Rosa and me. Let’s not make them worse.’ He looked puzzled. ‘She likes you,’ she explained, tilting her head. ‘Are you surprised?’
‘Not really,’ he conceded. ‘I can’t say I haven’t encouraged her a little.’
‘You’re a flirt.’
‘You wouldn’t talk to me,’ he protested. ‘But you grabbed my attention the first moment I saw you.’
‘On the beach, with Francesco.’
‘You looked so sad. You broke my heart.’
‘Is he here now?’
Luca looked around the quay and beach. ‘No, he’s usually playing on that bollard. That’s how I know you’re near.’
‘I’ll take your word for it, because I so want it to be true.’
‘I wish I could prove it to you.’
‘I have to trust you.’
‘You know you can.’ He took her hand. ‘You can trust me completely.’
They walked along the sea front to a secluded pebble beach where they sat, gazing out at the vast ocean.
‘You’re very special, Cosima.’
‘I haven’t felt special in a very long time.’
‘Since Riccardo?’
‘Yes, since Riccardo.’
He looked at her earnest face. ‘I’m falling in love with you.’
‘You barely know me.’
‘That’s irrelevant. It’s about feeling you. I trust my instinct. You’re as special as I think you are.’
‘Tell me about you,’ she said, as he buried his face in her neck.
‘Do we have to talk?’
‘I feel you too, Luca, but I also want to know the facts.’
‘Then you’ll kiss me back?’
She ran a finger down his bristly face. ‘Then I’ll kiss you until lunch.’
At midday Dennis Mendoros and his daughter, Stephanie, rolled up in his shiny Maserati Quattro Porte. Greek by nationality, Dennis was born in Sudan and raised in Yorkshire, though he had never lost the strong accent that English women found irresistible. He was blessed with dark, Mediterranean skin and intelligent brown eyes, but it was his smile, dazzling white against his tan, that could light up a small continent. Romina, who had always found Dennis attractive, enveloped him in her arms like a white linen butterfly.