and pull a blanket from the closet. He slept until almost nine, decided then that he would not go to the Questura until after lunch, and forced himself to go back to sleep. He got up well after ten, made himself coffee, and took a long shower, glad of the hot water for the first time in months. He was standing on the terrace, dressed, hair still damp, with a second coffee in his hand when he heard a sound from the apartment behind him. He turned, cup to his lips, and saw Paola. And then Chiara, and then Raffaele.
‘
‘What happened?’ he asked, holding her close but seeing only her mother.
Chiara pulled herself back and grinned up at him. ‘Look at my face, Papa.’
He did, and had never seen a lovelier. He noticed that she had been out in the sun.
‘Oh, Papa, don’t you see?’
‘Don’t I see what, darling?’
‘I’ve got measles and they threw us out.’
Though the chill of early autumn remained in the city, that night Brunetti needed no blanket.
DONNA LEON
