‘In that case, you’re right to take my advice,’ she said, trying to keep the atmosphere light. ‘I hope you go on being wise.’

‘I’m sure you’ll tell me when I’m not,’ he said. Suddenly he drew a sharp breath. ‘Holly-’ He was shaking.

‘I know, I know. It’s all right-honestly,’ she said, speaking hurriedly. ‘I’m going to bed now. I think you should do the same.’

She didn’t feel as though she could stand any more that night.

Work began on the pool the next day. Liza was ecstatic and insisted on being there to watch everything.

Holly took a trip into Rome to buy a swimsuit for Liza, who had grown since she was last able to bathe. She also needed one herself, and lingered for a while, tempted by a bikini. But she resisted and settled for a sedate black one-piece. This was about Liza’s needs, she reminded herself. And nothing else!

But the truth, as she finally admitted to herself, was that she didn’t want to invite comparison with the gorgeous Carol.

The arrangement was made for two days hence. Matteo assured her that he would spend the time making certain that his desk was clear.

‘And no cell phone,’ Holly said.

‘But I…’ He met her eyes. ‘Whatever you say.’

That was their only conversation during that time, as though they had made a mutual pact not to mention the events of the other night. The knowledge was there between them, but they skirted around it as if it were explosive.

Summer was drawing to its close, but it was still hot enough for an enjoyable day. Holly gave Matteo full marks for being ready in good time, showing all the signs of looking forward to a day with his daughter with eager expectation. Looking at him, standing there, smiling, his tan glowing against his white towelling robe, she knew a moment of tenderness towards him. He might be reading from her script but he was doing it with a kind of dogged desperation that touched her.

As they waited for Berta to bring Liza downstairs she jokingly ran through a check-list.

‘Cell phone?’

‘Left in my office.’

‘Landline calls?’

‘Anna has orders to take messages.’

‘Visitors?’

‘I’m not at home.’

‘Reading matter?’

He looked startled. ‘Am I allowed to read?’

‘As long as it’s not legal papers. A cheap thriller is best.’

‘A cheap-?’

‘Yes, I thought you wouldn’t have anything so useful, so I bought you one when I was in Rome.’ She held it up so that he could see the lurid cover and nearly laughed at his outraged expression.

‘I have never in my life-’

‘Then it’s time you did,’ she said ruthlessly. ‘It’ll do you a lot of good. Liza will probably doze off after lunch, and when she wakes up and sees you, you’ve got to be reading some relaxing rubbish. Something you can put down easily.’

‘Why don’t I just not pick it up?’ he asked, looking over the first page with distaste.

‘Do you want to do this properly, or not?’

‘Nothing matters more. All right, show me the way.’

He smiled, but it was a poor effort. For him it wasn’t a joke. He was following her lead because he’d run out of other options.

‘Just be there,’ she muttered.

‘All the time. I promise.’

When Liza appeared, wheeled by Berta, he took her hand. ‘Are you ready?’

Her smile and her vigorous nod of the head showed that she was approaching the peak of bliss. She began to get out of the wheelchair.

‘I think you should stay there,’ Holly said. ‘It’s quite a walk down to the pool, and you’re going to need all your strength for swimming. You don’t want to arrive there with an aching leg, do you?’

‘All right,’ Liza said equably, and seated herself with a glance up at her father, making clear that he was appointed wheelchair attendant for the day.

The four of them advanced to the far end of the grounds where the newly cleaned pool glittered in the sun.

‘Isn’t it lovely?’ Liza cried. Turning to Holly, she said, ‘Poppa built it just for me.’

‘I thought this pool was built by your grandfather,’ Berta said, not unkindly but with a nurse’s instinct for accuracy.

Liza looked mutinous. ‘Poppa built it for me,’ she cried.

‘But I read somewhere-’

‘He built it for me,’ Liza said. ‘He did, he did!’

With ominous speed she was working up to one of her hysterical outbursts. Berta looked desperate, not knowing how to cope. Holly prepared to do her best but it was Matteo who came to the rescue.

‘In a way that’s true,’ he said. ‘My father built it, but I adapted it when Liza was younger. The shallow end was actually a metre deep, too much for a small child. I had it turned into broad steps so that she could go down gradually. That’s what you were remembering, isn’t it, piccina?’

Instantly Liza was all smiles.

‘Yes, that’s it, Poppa. Mamma brought me here every day to watch the workmen.’ She giggled. ‘She said I drove them crazy, asking questions all the time.’

Then her laughter faded and her eyes grew blank. Matteo dropped to his knees in front of her.

‘Yes,’ he said softly. ‘I remember, she told me.’

To Holly’s pleasure he put his arms about her and drew her close. She hugged him almost hard enough to choke him.

‘Let’s go in,’ Liza cried.

The dangerous moment had passed.

Hand and hand, they went down the broad steps together. Holly dropped into the water further down and held out her arms for Liza to swim into them, which she did, supported by Matteo. Watching them, through the glare of the sun on the water, Holly could almost believe that she was seeing the picture again, the happy father and child, their love untroubled.

Liza’s delight at having his full attention made her appear at her best, all sunny smiles and innocent chatter. Matteo, in his turn, seemed to relax. They made short trips into the pool, just long enough for Liza to exercise without becoming too tired. After an hour Anna appeared with a trolley bearing soft drinks and ice cream.

Liza had perfected the art of eating and chattering at the same time.

‘It was Poppa who taught me to swim,’ she told Holly eagerly. ‘He said all the Falluccis have been brilliant swimmers, and I was going to be the best Fallucci of all.’

Holly held her breath as Liza veered dangerously close to the forbidden subject. But, although Matteo went a little pale, he smiled and said,

‘So you will be, piccina. The best Fallucci of them all.’

As Holly had predicted, Liza spent the first hour after lunch dozing on a towel, in the shade of the trees. Matteo dived in and swam the length of the pool several times, while Holly sat, watching him vaguely, her thoughts in a tangle.

She had studied his efforts today and her heart had reached out in sympathy. Now and then Liza would say something in all innocence that must have been like twisting a knife, but he coped. She could only imagine what it was doing to him.

And today wasn’t a real solution, she knew that. Somewhere in the cloud of ice that had descended on his feelings she was sure that his love for the little girl was still there. Finding it would take time, and be painful. For the moment he was like a lost soul, blundering about in the darkness, but she wanted to be there with him, to help as he struggled to find the way to go on living.

For Liza’s sake, she insisted.

But she realised she wasn’t being quite honest with herself. His need was as great as the child’s, and the moment when he’d reached out to her in pain was the moment her defences had begun to crack.

At last Matteo came up the steps of the shallow end, pulled on a towelling robe and stretched out. He even took out the book Holly had bought him and turned it over and over. He read the blurb on the back page, then opened the book and began to read, casually at first, and then with obvious interest. He was deep in chapter one when Liza awoke and crept over to him.

‘Is it good?’ she asked.

‘Hm?’ he answered, not lifting his head.

‘Poppa!’

At last he looked at her, tearing himself from the book with difficulty, it seemed to Holly.

‘Is it good?’ Liza demanded.

‘Yes-yes, it’s good.’

‘What’s it about?’

‘It’s about a man in prison for something he didn’t do, and planning his revenge.’

‘Do you ever send innocent people to prison, Poppa?’

He looked aghast at the question. ‘I try not to. I don’t imprison anyone unless I think they’re guilty.’

‘But suppose you get it wrong?’ Liza asked remorselessly.

To Holly’s delight Matteo was bereft of words. He looked across at her wildly, but she was beyond being able to help. She simply lay back in the grass and chuckled.

‘I’m sorry,’ Holly said at last, moving over to them. ‘Liza, you’ll have to let this go for now. But when you’re older you must become a lawyer, and then you can study your Poppa’s cases and tell him where he got it wrong.’

‘All right,’ Liza said, satisfied.

‘Thank you,’ Matteo said wryly.

Having settled the future, Liza returned to the book.

‘Does he do lots of horrible things to his enemies?’ she demanded of her father.

‘I think so. I haven’t got very far in yet. I’ll let you know.’

Liza gave a happy sigh.

‘How can she be such a ghoul?’ Matteo murmured to Holly as Berta took Liza down the steps into the pool.

‘Because she’s a child. Children love that kind of thing.’

‘After what happened to her-’

‘It’s not the same. This is a book, nothing to do with reality.’

She stopped, seeing a sudden change in his expression.

‘What is it?’ she asked. ‘You haven’t really sent an innocent man to gaol, have you?’

‘Not that I know of. Of course, they all protest their innocence. Sometimes the worse they are the more vehemently they protest. The worst one I ever knew was Antonio Fortese, a murderer who escaped too often.’