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She got the wry joke. His family had been ensconced in this place for centuries. ‘I can’t imagine it,’ she said, and looked back at the view, the way they had come from. ‘Having so much history, such deep roots. If you asked me where I live, I’d say London, but I’m really just there for work.’

‘So where is home?’

‘I honestly don’t know.’ She knew her words didn’t really make sense and tried to explain. ‘We moved around a lot.’

‘Where are your parents now?’

‘My mother’s in Wales, my father…’ She actually had to think for a moment. ‘He’s working in Singapore. I don’t see either of them very much.’

There was a lot more there, Gabe was quite sure.

And while he usually would not push, he wanted to know, and as they wandered through the square he persisted. ‘You don’t visit?’

‘Not really. Occasionally.’

‘How come?’

She had to think for a moment. Normally, she wouldn’t answer, or make some vague response, but there was something about this night. She could just be herself, after all. There was no danger of rejection—she already knew she would never see him again.

‘I feel like an unwelcome guest,’ she admitted. ‘I always have.’

She offered a little more truth, but she did offer it in the form of a little joke. ‘My mother left home when I was sixteen.’

‘Hold on?’ He frowned at her backward explanation.

‘She decided to move,’ Stella explained. ‘Again. We’d only been back in London for a year. I just didn’t want to start at another new school…another new town. So I stayed on in London and got a job.’

‘You didn’t stay on at school?’

‘How could I?’

They were so very different, with not a shared problem between them, yet on this night they felt the same. On this night they allowed the other to be only themself.

‘It’s pink!’ She gazed up at the pretty church. ‘Does the bell ring?’

‘All the damn time.’

‘I love church bells.’ She sighed happily, looking up as if willing it to ring.

Stella was pleased he was here, not just because she found him fascinating, but he knew so much about the town. As she stood taking photos of the church and was about to move on, he twisted the catch on the door.

‘It’s open?’ she said in surprise.

‘For now.’ He nodded. ‘It gets locked after the tourists have been through.’

There was no one here now though, and it had that reverent silence she recognised as she stepped in. It was blissfully cool, and she stood gazing at the plain white walls and up to the canvases on the ceilings, then down to the ceramic majolica floors.

‘I think Sir Charles is right,’ Stella said. ‘This place was made for the movie.’

‘Without the palazzo,’ he reminded her.

‘I know,’ she sighed.

As Gabe stood with hands in pockets she wandered around taking photos of the artwork and simple altar, then took a seat on one of the pews and looked around for him.

He was by the votive stand, and she watched as he put some cash in the box and selected some candles and, one by one, he lit them.

He lit four, and she found her nose stinging a touch, wondering what he was thinking.