‘What?’ Celia was thunderstruck.

‘I know it will be hard for you, but there are other dogs.’

‘Not for me,’ she said, agitated. ‘It’s his years of experience that make him valuable to me in the way a young dog couldn’t be. No, I’m sorry. I can’t do without him.’

‘Please, signorina, won’t you even think about it for a while?’

‘No, there’s nothing to think about. I’m sorry. It’s out of the question.’

Celia turned and fled towards the kitchen door, her hands outstretched to prevent another collision. She just managed to avoid the wall, but it was a near thing.

It distressed her that Francesco should have seen this happen. After all she’d said about independence. How he would gloat!

But then his hands were on her gently, his voice in her ear.

‘Steady, carissima. Just a little to your left. Just here.’

He edged her through the door into the kitchen and towards a chair.

‘Sit down and I’ll pour you a drink.’

She sat, trying to understand what was happening to her. She’d always been proud of her own confident efficiency, but suddenly she was swamped by fear. It swept over her in waves, making coherent thought impossible. Instead of giving calm consideration to the proposal, she’d blurted out her terrified resistance.

She felt a glass pushed into her hand and drank it without asking what it was. It was brandy.

‘Thanks. I needed that,’ she said huskily. ‘Poor man. I didn’t mean to shout at him.’

‘It’s not like you to lose it,’ he said gently.

‘I don’t know what came over me. It’s just that-I rely on Jacko so much. He’s my lifeline. Another dog wouldn’t be the same.’

‘He could be trained to be as good. After a while it would be exactly the same.’

‘But that would take time. This place is still new to me-Oh, I know I’m being selfish. You’re right about Jacko. He’s done his duty faithfully, but I’ve always sensed something not quite right, and now I know what it is. His heart’s breaking. I ought to let him go, but how can I? I’d be lost without him.’

It passed across Fransesco’s mind that she hadn’t been lost without him, but he banished the jealous thought quickly, overtaken by another thought, one so startling that he pulled away from her to walk the room lest his eagerness show too clearly in his manner.

It was impossible, and yet…

‘He’s not the only dog in the world,’ he began carefully. ‘You’d have had to have another one eventually.’

‘But if he goes now, what can I do?’

He drew a slow breath. Now was his last chance to draw back from the colossal risk he was about to take. But there would be no drawing back. It was the biggest gamble of his life, but he must take it or lose her. And she was worth everything.

‘You can use me,’ he said.

She turned her head sharply, as if staring at him.

‘What did you say?’

‘Let me be your dog. Make use of me.’

‘Francesco, be serious.’

‘I am serious,’ he said, walking back and dropping down on his knees beside her. ‘Listen to me, Celia. I know I sound crazy, but you’re the one who’s always talking about the virtues of craziness.’

‘For me, not for you,’ she protested.

‘You think I’m not good enough to be crazy, huh? Let me show you.’

‘Caro, this is madness. You don’t know what you’re suggesting. You’d have to be with me constantly. What about your own work?’

‘That can manage without me for a while. What is it, Celia? Can’t you trust me? I can do the job as well as a dog, I swear it. I know all the commands-stop, start, stand, sit. I’ll even wear a harness.’

His clowning made her laugh, but there was still a serious doubt in her heart.

‘I know you mean it,’ she said, ‘and it’s a wonderful offer. But it would be so much harder than you think.’

‘I’ll do everything your way. When you don’t need me, you won’t even know I’m there. Isn’t that enough?’

She hesitated, not knowing how to put it into words, and at last he came to her rescue.

‘Once a bully, always a bully,’ he said softly.

‘No-no-’

‘The dog is your independence, but that means independence from me. I should have understood that.’

‘I don’t always want to be independent from you,’ she said in despair.

‘I know, but we can’t-I can’t seem to stop blurring the lines. Knowing when to back off is something I never learned. I could try but-well, you know me. The man who shuts his ears.’

‘Don’t-please don’t,’ she whispered.

‘I’m not saying that to be unkind, just reminding you that you got it right about me. You made your decision for us to part and it was a good one.’

‘A good one for you?’ she whispered.

He sighed and leaned his forehead against hers.

‘It’ll never be good for me without you. But I’m not good for you. It took me too long to see that, and if I’d had any sense I’d never have suggested taking Jacko’s place. You keep him as long as you need him. Trusty friends are hard to replace.’

‘Yes, I’d better go back and tell them.’ She reached for his arm. ‘It’s all right,’ she said. ‘I can find my way, but I’m clinging to you for moral support.’

‘I do have some uses,’ he said lightly. ‘Let’s go.’

He stopped, silenced by the sight that met him as they entered the other room. Signor Feltona was sitting on the sofa with Jacko at his feet. The dog’s head was turned up to him in an attitude of adoration.

‘What is it?’ she asked in a hurried under-voice.

‘It’s them-the way they’re sitting together.’

Signor Feltona heard them and looked up quickly, his face full of hope that died when he saw their faces.

‘Please-’ he said.

‘I can’t-just yet,’ Celia told him. ‘But I’ll get in touch with the society and ask for another dog very quickly. So you might get him back soon. That really is the best I can do.’

The man’s shoulders sagged, and so did Jacko’s, it seemed to Francesco. He told himself to stop being sentimental, but there was an air of misery about the dog that suggested he’d followed what was happening.

‘I see,’ Signor Feltona said heavily. ‘I had hoped-my children love him so much-but I may tell them that they can still hope?’

‘I’ll do it as soon as I can,’ Celia assured him. ‘I’m sorry. It’s just-’

‘I understand,’ he said in a husky voice. ‘I’ll leave you now.’

He rose and prepared to be gone. A soft whine broke from Jacko.

‘It’s all right, boy,’ he said. ‘Stay. Maybe later. Now, say goodbye to me.’

He dropped to one knee and embraced Jacko, who whined again in misery.

‘All right, now. We’ll be together again soon, I promise. No, no-you mustn’t do that. Get down, boy.’

‘What is it?’ Celia asked.

‘He’s trying to go, too,’ Francesco said.

‘It’s nothing,’ Signor Feltona said hurriedly. ‘He’s just a little distressed. Please don’t be angry with him. He’s a good boy.’

‘Of course he is,’ Celia said. ‘Come here, Jacko.’

She held out her hand. For a moment it seemed that Jacko would defy her, but then he seemed to abandon hope and moved slowly forward until he was in front of her.

‘Goodbye,’ said Signor Feltona, turning towards the door.

Jacko didn’t move, but a wail of such anguish broke from him that it froze everyone who heard it. He laid his snout in Celia’s hand while wave upon wave of despair came from his throat as a lifetime’s discipline struggled with heartbreak.

‘Wait!’ Celia called. ‘Don’t go. Francesco, stop him.’

‘No need,’ Francesco said, going to where their visitor was standing frozen, joy and disbelief warring on his face. ‘Come back, signore.’

‘Go on,’ Celia said, giving Jacko a little push.

Nothing would have stopped him then. The dog bounded across the room to hurl himself into his old owner’s arms so fiercely that the two of them landed on the sofa.

‘Forgive me,’ Antonio said, recovering some poise but still clinging to Jacko. ‘Do you mean-’

‘Jacko belongs with you,’ Celia said. ‘He can’t bear to be parted from you. I won’t force him to stay.’

‘You mean it?’ he asked incredulously. ‘You really mean it?’

‘I mean every word. Take him with you now, and I’ll make it all right with the society.’

‘But what will you do before you get a new dog?’ Having got what he wanted, Antonio was suddenly assailed by conscience.

‘Don’t worry about me,’ Celia said. ‘I have a friend who will look after me. Now, take Jacko quickly.’

‘First we say thank you,’ Feltona said. He touched Jacko gently, whispering, ‘Go.’

She dropped to her knees for one last embrace and the dog came into her arms-willingly this time. Francesco watched as he nuzzled her and she buried her face against him. When she released him he put up a paw as if to have one last contact.

He understands, Francesco thought. He’s a dog, but he knows she’s made a sacrifice for him.

‘Goodbye,’ she said at last, huskily. ‘Be happy. Good dog.’

Celia came with them to the door. Francesco came, too, watching her closely, seeing how close she was to weeping. She controlled herself until the door had closed, then she leaned against it, making no effort to hide the tears that now streamed down her face.

‘That was a very brave and generous thing you did,’ he said gently.

‘No, it wasn’t. I should have let him go at once. How could I be so cruel as to keep the poor creature here against his will?’

‘But you didn’t.’

‘I was going to be so practical. But I could feel his misery and I couldn’t bear it.’

‘I’m glad,’ he said.

‘But just think of the ramifications of this,’ she cried.

‘It’s actually very simple. Tomorrow you contact the society, explain what happened and ask them to find you another dog. In the meantime, just call me Jacko.’