‘No, it isn’t. I have to go back to calm him down. I’ll get some more accountants in-a different firm this time-and they’ll sort it out. Then I’ll cheer poor old Cedric up. Since his wife died last year he’s been alone. He has no children or close family, so there’s nobody at home to help him cope.’

Olympia stared. She hadn’t known Cedric’s wife had died.

‘That’s really nice of you,’ she said.

‘Well, Cedric-er-did me a big favour recently.’ He cleared his throat awkwardly.

‘I’ll come too.’

‘Better not,’ he said quickly.

‘But I was his assistant. I can help with this.’

‘He’d hate for you to know. I’ll be back in a few days, when I’ve hired the new auditors. Until then, enjoy being a tourist and get to know my city.’ He looked at his watch. ‘There’s a plane at dawn. I’d better go now.’

‘You mean this minute?’ she asked, horrified.

‘I don’t want to go but I think I must.’

‘Of course. Give him my love.’

But she could have wept with disappointment. Something had started to happen, something that wasn’t supposed to happen, and which she’d foolishly resisted. Now she was no longer resisting and she could see the road stretching out ahead, uncertain but inviting. Just not yet.

He hesitated over saying goodbye, holding her hand in his. At last he laid a gentle kiss on her mouth and hurried away. From the balcony she could see him leave the hotel, get into his car and drive away down the hill.

She looked back at her suite, the epitome of luxury, a symbol of the place she had wanted to be. But there was nobody there with her.

She thought of Cedric, too uptight to talk about his loneliness with the people he’d known for years. But Jack had known and responded with kindness.

He called her on the evening of the next day, telling her that things weren’t as bad as they’d sounded, and he’d persuaded Cedric to stop beating his breast.

‘I’ll be with you soon,’ he said. ‘How are you occupying your time without me?’

‘Reading dictionaries,’ she said.

His voice reached her down the line, warm and amused, thrilling her from a distance of a thousand miles. ‘So now you know what strega means. Do you like it?’

‘Yes, I think I do. It could be interesting. But I won’t know until you come back.’

‘It’ll be as soon as I can manage. And when I’m there we have a lot to talk about.’

‘I know. Come back soon.’

When she’d hung up she sat looking at the phone, seeming to hear his voice in the air about her. For a moment the sensation was so strong that she nearly reached out, sure that she could touch him.

There was a suspicious wetness in her eyes and on her cheeks. She brushed it away, then went to bed and lay awake dreaming about him.

She whiled away the time by exploring Naples, but after the first day she was so footsore that she hired a car.

She went out into the countryside, stopped to eat at small inns and drove back as late as possible, trying to convince herself that she was having a good time. The land was beautiful, the bay was astonishing, but it was all wrong because he wasn’t here.

She’d told herself that she must run from him, but running was useless. He could give her the kind of feelings she’d sworn never to know again, and to rejoice in them. That knowledge would be waiting around every corner.

And he knew. Of course he did. He’d played along with the joke, waiting for her to get over her fantasies and reach out to the real man. It had happened, and all could be well, except that it had happened in the wrong way, at the wrong time, when he wasn’t even here.

Perhaps she’d needed him to go, so that the ache of missing him told her what she wanted to know. But why, oh why, didn’t he come back to her now?

Meanwhile she tried to occupy herself with being a tourist, but wherever she went she was thinking of him, planning how to tell him that she’d changed. How they would laugh together at the way she’d been overcome by her feelings! And then-

Every day she lunched at the trattoria where they’d eaten during his few brief hours here, at the same table if possible. Then she would search for something to fill the afternoon.

Despite all the historical sights, what attracted her most was the great building that was Leonate Europa. She longed to visit it, and even went so far as to turn into its underground car park. There she switched off the engine and sat behind the wheel, torn by temptation.

Surely it would do no harm to go in and introduce herself? After all, she’d signed a contract to work here. She could meet Enrico Leonate. She might even meet Primo Rinucci.

Then she smiled as she realised that she didn’t care whether she met him or not. Only Jack counted now. Soon he would call to say he was returning. She would go to meet him at the airport and their time would come.

She started up the engine and began to edge her way out of the car park into the stream of traffic. It was late afternoon, the worst time of day to be driving. The traffic was at its most crowded and she was fast becoming confused by the car and everything around her. She remembered Jack attributing his accident to the fact that the English drove on the ‘wrong’ side of the road. Now she knew how he felt.

There was a blast on the horn from the driver behind her. Startled, she turned the car swiftly to the side, realising too late that she’d chosen the wrong one.

‘Damn!’ she muttered, trying to brake, turn and see where she was going, all at once. ‘Oh, no!’

A shadow had appeared on her windscreen, a shadow that vanished with alarming suddenness.

‘Oh, no!’ she cried again, flinging herself out of the car. ‘What have I done?’

‘Covered me with bruises,’ said a man’s voice from the ground. Mercifully he sounded robust, even amused.

‘I didn’t actually hit you, did I?’

‘No, I jumped out of the way when you swerved, and missed my footing.’ He climbed to his feet, moving gingerly. ‘Those kerbs are very sharp when you fall on them,’ he complained, rubbing his elbow.

A bellow of sound from behind reminded her that other drivers were waiting to move.

‘I’ve got to go,’ she said, ‘but I can’t just leave you here. Can you get into my car?’

‘Why don’t I drive it for you?’

‘That might be better,’ she said with relief. ‘The roads in Naples are-I don’t know-’

When they were in the car and he was guiding them through the traffic he said, ‘It’s not just Naples. The roads in the rest of Italy are pretty hair-raising too. You’re not Italian, are you?’

‘You guessed! Neither are you by the sound of it. English?’

‘Let’s say I started out that way. Nowadays I’m not sure what I am. What’s your name?’

‘Olympia Lincoln.’

‘Luke Cayman.’

‘Cayman?’ She looked at him quickly. ‘Are you any relation to Jack Cayman?’

Before he could answer, a sleek sports car swept right in front of them, forcing Luke to brake sharply and utter a stream of Neapolitan curses. By the time things had sorted themselves out with lots of honking and bawling, Luke had had time to catch his breath and partly understand the situation.

Now, if ever, was the moment to watch every word. Brother Stuffed-Shirt Primo had certainly been up to something. But what? That was the million dollar question that he was going to enjoy exploring.

‘Sorry,’ he said at last. ‘What was the name?’

‘Jack Cayman. I met him in England. He works for Leonate. Surely you must be related? Two Englishmen with the same name, in Naples.’

As his thoughts settled he realised that he might have overreacted. Primo sometimes used his father’s name for wheeling and dealing in England, thinking it would make him less conspicuous. It might mean nothing.

‘It sounds like my brother,’ he mused.

‘Your brother?’

‘That’s right. We both come from England originally.’

‘Are you part of the firm too?’

‘Leonate? Not part of, but I’m in the same line of electronics and I’ve just sold them some goods, so I’d just dropped in to sign the papers. Jack and I don’t see much of each other because he travels a lot. Look, I know a little trattoria just down here and I need some sustenance after the fright you gave me.’

She suppressed a childish desire to say, Oh, yeah? The mere idea of this man taking fright was incongruous. He was like a rock. A pleasant, attractive rock, but a rock just the same. It was there in the shape of his head and his jaw line.

When at last they were seated, eating pizza and drinking coffee, he said, ‘I never take my car when I visit Leonate. The roads near it are so bad that it’s quicker on foot. But how did you come to be driving out of that building?’

‘I work there-well, sort of. I come from Curtis in England.’

‘So you’ve been taken over?’

‘I suppose I have. I’m here to learn the business and the language, and anything else I can.’

‘Was that Jack’s idea?’

‘Mine mainly. I sort of forced his hand.’

‘You-forced Pr-forced his hand?’ Luke asked carefully. ‘Not an easy man to force.’

She nodded. ‘I wanted to come to Naples. A way presented itself and in the end he saw things my way.’

To Olympia’s amazement Luke threw his head back and roared with laughter.

‘You don’t know how it sounds to hear you say that,’ he said at last. ‘That’s how he talks-do it my way. And people always do, because he gives them no choice. I guess you’ve heard him.’

‘No, I’ve never heard him say that,’ she said. ‘It doesn’t sound like him at all.’

‘Doesn’t sound-? We can’t be talking about the same man. Is something the matter?’

He’d noticed her looking over his shoulder and turned, half expecting to find Primo. Instead, it was his mother that he saw standing just inside the door, trying to attract his attention.