‘You know what you’ve let yourself in for, don’t you?’

‘And you know that I am willing.’

‘I must be crazy.’

‘Hey, play fair! Don’t keep all the craziness to yourself. I’ve earned some, too.’

‘What are you talking about?’ she asked, laughing weakly.

‘Well, I know that for you only crazy people count, and I’m doing my best.’

‘Oh, caro, will I ever understand you?’ She sighed.

‘Probably not. But you could make me a coffee.’

As they sat in the kitchen he said, ‘So, tell me about my duties. Shall I wear a harness?’

Her lips twitched. ‘I think I can let you off the harness. But you have to obey my every command. Sit when I say sit.’

‘Curl up under your chair when you don’t need me?’

‘I’d love to tell you to do just that,’ she mused. ‘I think I might just enjoy this. Whether you will is another matter.’

‘I’ve told you-I’m a slave to your every whim. Well, except for one thing. I draw the line at the pooper-scooper.’

She gave a little choke of laughter that enchanted him. ‘Hmm! So much for being my slave.’

‘I’ll be Jacko’s substitute in every other way,’ he promised. ‘I’ll even sleep at the foot of your bed.’

‘You’ll sleep in the spare room like a good doggie,’ she told him firmly.

‘Wuff!’ he said.

CHAPTER NINE

THE next day they drove to the Villa Rinucci to collect his things. Knowing his mother, Francesco took the precaution of telephoning her first, to explain that this was strictly a practical arrangement, and would she kindly refrain from asking Celia when the wedding was going to be?

‘Please, Mamma-unless you want me to die of embarrassment.’

Hope promised to be good, and contented herself with loading Celia with gifts of home-baked treats, which she received with delight. Then it was back to the apartment for him to unpack and settle into the spare room, where they made the bed together.

As they were preparing a meal she said, ‘I called the society. They were very understanding and said they’ll find me another dog, but it may take a couple of months. I hope you won’t find that awkward.’

‘I hope you won’t,’ he said. ‘I know you don’t want me around that long.’

‘We’ll just have to try to endure each other,’ she said lightly.

The exchange was pleasant enough, but behind it they were each assessing a situation that had taken them by surprise.

They spent the evening working in their various ways. Francesco had brought his laptop so that he could direct the firm as far as possible.

‘Is this going to damage you?’ she asked worriedly. ‘Your business is only just starting and the boss is deserting it.’

‘I can still go in for a few hours. You can come with me. It’ll help you assess our progress for your report.’

At last he said, ‘Isn’t it time for the evening walk? We both need some fresh air.’

Francesco found that he was nervous. Earlier in the day he’d taken her arm for a few moments when they’d visited the villa, but that had been too brief to count. And in the apartment she knew her way around. But this would be the real test-the first time she would be completely reliant on him.

She took his arm as they left the building and went down the three stone steps together.

‘Let’s head for the docks,’ she said. ‘Or shall we go the other way and wander around the shops?’

‘You’re the boss. Isn’t that what Jacko would have said?’

‘No, he wouldn’t, and nor would Wicksy. In many ways they were the boss. Let’s head for the port.’

As they walked he asked, ‘How was Jacko the boss?’

‘If I wanted to cross the road and he could see that it wasn’t safe he’d refuse. I’d say, Go forward, and he’d just sit there, sometimes actually on my foot so that I knew he meant business. He could see the danger, so I had to take his advice.’

‘Yes, I saw that once or twice,’ he recalled. ‘I thought he was being awkward.’

‘No, he was doing his job. And sometimes he’d obey me in a roundabout way. If I said, Forward, and the way was blocked, he’d go sideways and find a way to negotiate the problem.’ She squeezed his arm. ‘He was a clever dog. He knew there was more than one way forward.’

‘Yes, I guess he did,’ Francesco murmured.

They wandered the short distance towards the sea, and she stood breathing in the odours of a busy port.

‘That’s good,’ she said. ‘I love the sea.’

He made a non-committal reply and she let it drop, remembering that the sea conjured up unfortunate memories for him.

‘Do you want to go in any particular direction?’ he asked.

‘No, I don’t know any details. Jacko was a good guide, but he never told me how things looked.’

After a moment he realised that she had made a joke, but by then it was too late to respond.

‘What do you want to know?’

‘Tell me about the boats.’

He did so, describing the ferries that came and went while she leaned on the wall that overlooked the water, an expression of total absorption on her face. At last she sighed and reached out for him.

‘Let’s go,’ she said. ‘Francesco?’

For a moment she touched only empty air, and she was suddenly full of tension.

‘I’m here,’ he said, quickly taking her hand. ‘Sorry-my mind wandered for a moment.’

‘I didn’t know where you were,’ she said quietly. ‘I didn’t know where I was.’

‘I’m sorry,’ he said urgently. ‘I’m sorry.’

‘Don’t take it so much to heart,’ she told him, smiling faintly.

‘You’re shivering.’

‘I guess it’s getting cold. Shall we go?’

He gave a groan.

‘I’m useless at this. I thought it would be simple but it isn’t. I keep wanting to tell you everything, then backing off in case I overdo it and annoy you.’

For a moment Celia was silent, too shocked to speak. The words, He’s afraid, flashed through her brain.

From the beginning she’d known him as a forceful, domineering man, easily annoyed with people who wouldn’t agree with him, including herself. But with her he’d suppressed his exasperation, always loving and tender, except in their quarrels. Even then she’d sensed him controlling himself, and it had had the perverse effect of increasing her anger because she’d felt she was being patronised. With a sighted woman he’d have felt free to let his anger explode. She’d always been certain of that.

Now she wasn’t so sure.

She’d thrown him out, but was that the only reason for his hesitation? Hadn’t it always been there, if she’d had the wit to sense it?

He’s afraid, she thought again. And hard on the heels of that came the worst thought of all. Afraid of me.

‘Let’s try again,’ he said. ‘I’m holding out my arm close to you.’

‘If you were a gentleman you’d take my hand and tuck it into place,’ she said, in a voice that sounded strangely shaky.

‘Sure-if that’s all right with you.’

She felt him fit her hand into the crook of his elbow, and waited for him to give it a small pat before withdrawing his own hand. But he didn’t, and a thousand thoughts clashed in her mind.

Forceful? Domineering? Him?

He’s on hot coals for fear of offending me. Is that what I’ve done to him?

‘Let’s get back,’ she said. ‘I’m very tired.’

A moment ago she could have walked for ever. Suddenly she was nervous. A sense of failure was creeping over her. She wasn’t used to it and didn’t know how to cope.

They walked home in silence.

Sharing an apartment, which had seemed so simple, turned out to be a minefield. Before, they had lived together with the casual intimacy of lovers, free to walk in on each other half dressed, without thinking.

Now he was a cross between an upper servant and a guide dog, with no privileges, only a duty to keep a respectful distance and obey his owner at all times. He had persuaded her on the solemn promise of respecting that duty.

Francesco’s first inkling of just how tough this was going to be came on the second evening. Searching for his favourite pen, he recalled that it had been in his jacket pocket the night they had made love. He’d torn the jacket off, tossing it onto the floor. Now the pen was missing, so it had probably fallen onto the floor and might be there still.

Thinking Celia was in the bathroom, he went into her room. But she was sitting on the bed, naked except for a tiny pair of pink satin briefs.

‘I’m sorry,’ he said hastily, backing off. ‘I thought you were-I’ll go.’

‘Did you want something?’

‘I was looking for my-’ Maddeningly, he found that his mind was blank. ‘Never mind. Another time.’

He got out fast, shocked by what was happening to him. He’d seen her wearing less before-many times-but always with her willing consent. Now he felt like a Peeping Tom, intruding on her vulnerability. Most stunning of all was the undignified thrill of seeing something that should have been off-limits. Illicit pleasure, forbidden enchantment. It was like watching What The Butler Saw, utterly disgraceful and unbearably exciting.

He fled to his own room while he still had some self-control, and lay all night without sleeping.

They found a kind of routine. Within the apartment she needed no help, because she knew where everything was. She would cook, and even clean the place, although she employed help for this. Not because she was blind, but because the success of her work left her little time to spare.

Francesco insisted on looking after himself, including making his own bed, despite Celia’s mischievous insistence that she had never required this from Jacko.

If she worked at her projects at home he would be free to leave her for a few hours, to put some time in at his own job. If she was working with Sandro he would deliver her to Sandro’s office and leave her in his care, collecting her at the end of the day.