One Summer in Italy…

an annoyed edge out of her voice. She was damned if she’d let him cross-examine her as though they were in court.

He leaned back in his chair and made a gesture that meant, ‘Go on.’

‘I come from a little town in the English Midlands. Portsmouth is down on the south coast and I know it quite well because I’ve spent some holidays there. I tried to tell Liza that, but the place means a lot to her because of her mother. So I talked about it, as much as I could remember, and I think she seized on that, built on it and just blotted out the bit she didn’t need. She’s clinging on to something that can bring her a scrap of comfort. Children do it all the time.’

‘And not just children,’ he murmured.

There was a silence.

‘Please go on,’ he said at last.

‘I don’t know what else there is to say.’

He’d been half-turned away from her. Now he swung around and spoke in a hard voice.

‘We have a difficult situation. I’m a judge and you are on the run from the police.’

‘You don’t know that,’ she challenged. ‘They didn’t identify me in the compartment today.’

‘Very shrewd. Clearly they know little about the woman they are seeking, not even that she goes by the name of Holly-whatever her real name may be.’

He was silent, watching her. When she didn’t speak he shrugged and said, ‘You could, of course, give me any name you like.’

‘Not while you’re holding my passport,’ she replied.

He nodded and a glimmer of a smile flickered over his face.

‘You were trying to trip me up,’ she said furiously.

‘If I was, I didn’t succeed. Good.’

‘And if I had succeeded?’

‘Then I’d have been disappointed in you. As it is, you present me with a problem.’

‘You could have solved it in a moment this afternoon.’

‘That would have been impossible,’ he said heavily. ‘You know why.’

‘Liza. Yes, you couldn’t have done that to that poor little girl.’

‘And it’s left me in a very awkward position,’ he said, half angrily.

‘But you didn’t actually tell the police any lies.’

‘I can’t console myself with such nit-picking.’

‘So now you want to know all about me, and what I’m supposed to have done,’ she said, bracing herself.

His reply astonished her.

‘At this moment, the very last thing I want is to know all about you. I know that you are a decent person, incapable of evil.’

‘How can you know that?’

‘Because I’ve met a thousand criminals and I know the difference. You develop an instinct. My instinct tells me that at worst you involved yourself in some foolishness that you didn’t understand. And also,’ his voice slowed and he added reluctantly, ‘also because of the way Liza clung to you. That little girl’s instinct is even surer than mine. If you had a criminal heart she would never have turned to you and wept in your arms.’

Holly was silent, amazed. She would not have expected such insight from this man.

Suddenly he rounded on her. ‘Am I wrong?’ he asked sharply.

‘No,’ she said. ‘You’re not wrong.’

‘Good. Then I need to know a little about you, but let’s keep it to the minimum. Give me a rough idea, but no details and no names.’

‘It was as you said. I got caught up in something bad, not realising what was really happening. When I discovered the truth I ran, fast.’

‘How old are you?’

‘Twenty-eight.’

‘Who knows you’re in Italy?’

‘Nobody. I have no family.’

‘What about your work colleagues?’

‘None. I’m not in work just now.’

‘There must be someone in England who’ll think it strange if you don’t return by a certain date.’

‘There isn’t. I live alone in a small rented house. I didn’t know how long I’d be away, so I told my neighbour to expect me when she saw me. I could vanish off the face of the earth and it would be ages before anyone noticed.’

She said the last words in a tone of discovery, as it was borne in on her how completely isolated she was. It was something she had vaguely recognised, but it was only now that the reality was brought home to her.

And if I’d had my wits about me, she told herself, I wouldn’t have admitted it to him. Now he knows how totally I’m in his power.

In the silence she could sense him surveying her, probably thinking how dull and unsophisticated she was for her age. It was true. She knew nothing, and it had left her vulnerable to Bruno Vanelli. Vulnerable in her heart and her life, in ways that she was only now beginning to understand.

When she’d met Bruno she’d been mostly ignorant of the world and men, and he had guessed that and played her like a fool.

Which was what I was, she thought bitterly. A fool.

‘Tell me about that suitcase you were so anxious to recover,’ the judge said. ‘Is there anything incriminating in it?’

‘No, I just didn’t like losing my clothes.’

‘Anything there that can identify you?’

‘Nothing.’

‘How can you be sure?’

‘Because of Uncle Josh.’

‘Uncle Josh? He’s travelling with you?’

‘No, of course not. He’s dead.’

‘He’s dead but he tells you what to pack?’ he recited in a voice that strongly suggested he was dealing with a lunatic.

‘I know it sounds batty, but it’s the truth,’ she explained.

‘Batty? You’ll have to excuse me. I’m discovering unexpected holes in my English.’

‘It means crazy, weird. I feel a bit weird. In fact, very weird.’

His answer was to fill a glass and put it into her hand. It turned out to be brandy.

‘Give yourself a moment to calm down,’ he said in a gentler voice. ‘Then tell me about Uncle Josh and how he directs your packing from his grave.’

There was a slight quirk to his mouth that might almost have been humour.

‘Years ago,’ she said, ‘he went on holiday and on the journey someone stole his suitcase. There were some papers in it that contained his address. When he got home he found his house ransacked.

‘Since then none of my family have ever packed anything that could identify us. Papers have to go in a bag that you keep on you. It’s an article of faith. You swear allegiance to your country and you vow not to leave bits of paper in suitcases.’

Holly choked suddenly as the sheer idiocy of this conversation came over her. Now nothing mattered but a wild desire for maniacal laughter. She controlled it as long as she could, but then her resistance collapsed and she shook.

The judge rose quickly, rescuing her glass and setting it down out of danger.

‘I suppose this was inevitable,’ he said. ‘If you’re going to have hysterics you’d better have them and get it over with.’

She jumped up and turned away from him, unwilling to let him see how vulnerable she felt at this moment.