'You're right,' Imogen said, shaking her head. 'I guess it was more about that. We talked a lot.'

'Can you imagine being with him, properly?'

Imogen thought it over, then shook her head. 'No. That time's gone.' Anna waited patiently. 'It wouldn't work at all.'

'Did you always know that?'

'No,' she said. 'I guess there was always a what-if. He was my what-if.'

'And now?'

'I feel terrible, Anna. I can't justify what I did. I should've known better.'

'Do you still have a what-if?'

'No. I don't. All I want is to be back with Finn.'

'Then tell him the truth. He's a reasonable man, Imo. He'll understand.'

'OK,' Imogen said. 'I will. I'll tell him and with any luck he'll see that all it's done is made me surer than ever that he's the one I want to be with.'

'You do that. It'll be OK, sis.' Anna put her arm round her sister's shoulders.

Imogen wiped away her tears and nodded.

'And in the meantime there's something else we need to do before you head home.'

Luigi was working in the kitchen when Anna and Imogen got to his restaurant the next day.

'Maybe we shouldn't do this,' Imogen whispered to her sister. 'I mean, where do we even start?'

'Just tell him what you told me. About what you found.'

'h.e.l.lo, you two,' Luigi said, wiping his floury hands on his ap.r.o.n. 'What a pleasure to see you both again so soon. It was a great party the other night.'

'Thanks for coming,' Anna said.

'So, tell me, what can I help you with? It's early for lunch, but I can get you espressos.'

'No, no, don't worry,' Imogen said. 'I was actually hoping . . .' The words tailed away and Anna gave her a nudge. She fell silent.

'Is it OK if we sit down?' Anna asked. He joined them, a crease of puzzlement between his brows.

'There's something I wanted to ask you,' Imogen said. 'I tried to, at the party, but I couldn't find the words. You see, our grandmother was here many years ago. And recently I found some things. A letter from you, a photo . . . But she died two years ago, so I couldn't ask her.'

'She's gone?' Luigi asked, clearly choked up.

'Yes. And we miss her so very much. We really had no idea that she was in love with you, but I can tell from her letters that she was. We're just hoping that from you we can hear the whole story.'

'Do you have a photo of her?' he asked, a deep sadness in his eyes.

'Yes,' Imogen said. 'I do, in here somewhere.' She flicked through the photos of Vivien that she'd picked up along with the letter, and pulled out one of her and Evie on the seafront, eating ice creams.

He smiled. 'There she is.'

Anna and Imogen exchanged looks, both moved by the love in his eyes. The connection seemed so strong still.

He looked up at them, sadness in his eyes. 'She was a wonderful person.'

'Yes, she was.'

He paused, then looked back at the photo. 'My beautiful Evie.'

Imogen and Anna walked back across the square towards the ice cream shop.

'I should have known,' Imogen said. 'Granny wasn't the type to have an affair. But trying to matchmake her best friend? That's got her written all over it.'

'She did always want to see people happy,' Anna said.

'She must have seen that this was a missed chance for Evie.'

'The look on Luigi's face when he realised she was still alive,' Anna said. 'I thought he was going to cry with happiness.'

'You know we have to do something,' Imogen said. 'We need to make this happen.'

'Imo,' Anna said, sounding a little wary. 'Are you sure?

'It clearly mattered to Granny.'

'I'm not sure we should interfere. And anyway, don't you think you should focus on your own life for a while?'

'No,' Imogen said. 'I'm quite happy for that to stay out of focus right now, thanks. If Granny V thought this guy was right for Evie, then perhaps she was right.'

'You're not going to let this one go, are you?'

'd.a.m.n right I'm not.'

Chapter 31.

On the flight back to England, Imogen felt dazed. When she got to the baggage hall, she texted Finn to let him know she was almost home. He replied excitedly, with a kiss. The small 'x', so easily given, brought a fresh wave of guilt.

She caught the train to Brighton, and watched through the window as green fields gave way to the pastel-coloured Georgian houses that signalled home. She'd tell Finn that evening, she decided. She'd get straight to the point and explain what had happened with Luca out in Capri.

When she walked into their house in Brighton, the room was rich with the aromas of cooking, Finn singing along to something on 6 Music as he chopped vegetables. 'Hey!' he called out, coming over to her, his eyes bright. She kissed him and held him close.

'Hi, Finn,' she said. In his arms everything felt good again.

'I've really missed you,' he said.

'Me too,' she said. A stab of guilt hit her between the ribs, but she forced herself to blank the feeling out.

They sat down over dinner and Imogen told Finn about Anna's new life and the ice cream shop. As she cleared the plates, he touched her shoulder.

'Leave that for now. I've got a surprise for you,' he said.

'A surprise?' she said.

'Yes. Come outside with me.'

Finn led Imogen around the side of the building and out into the garden.

'Close your eyes.' He stood behind Imogen, putting one hand around in front of her face so that she couldn't see.

'Hey!' she said, laughing. With Finn's strong arms around her, she felt safe, secure, even though one of her senses had been temporarily taken away from her. She felt both a thrill and relief at the temporary loss of control. Walking with him, seeing nothing but darkness and the subtle glow as the sun filtered through the gaps between his fingers, it was as if the time in Capri had never happened. As if there was nothing to think about but the two of them.

'I hope this is a good surprise,' she said. She was walking on the paving stones now; she remembered laying them the previous summer, when everything was still new. When she'd first realised that she didn't have to keep searching for herself, her centre that it wasn't in the depths of a distant ocean, that she felt most at ease when she was in Finn's arms.

'It's a good surprise, yes. I promise.' He kissed her gently on the delicate skin of her shoulder.

Imogen carried on walking, recognising the scents of the garden that she and Finn had planted together the fragrant lavender bushes that teemed with bees in the summer, the small herb garden, with mint and thyme, and the rose bushes near to the shed. She could smell them now a gift from her parents when she'd moved in with Finn. Her dad had come over to plant them. All the things around her, the pieces of her and Finn's life it all seemed more precious now. She had almost thrown it all away.

The clunk of metal and the jangle of keys. 'Hang on,' she protested. 'Are you putting me in the shed?' The wooden structure could barely be called that it was little more than a run-down shelter that housed their rake and outside broom, a few garden tools.

'Just be patient,' Finn said. She felt the atmosphere change as she stepped forward. She could tell she was inside somewhere, but it certainly didn't feel like the dank, spider-infested shed she was used to.

'Now, take a look.' He took his hands away.

Imogen opened her eyes to take in the scene, but she couldn't see anything. It was pitch-black in there. She raised a hand up towards her face and could barely make out her fingers. 'I feel like I've gone blind,' she said.

She heard a switch click and the room was cast in a low red light. It was then that she could see where she was trays laid out in front of her, vats of chemicals, lines with tiny pegs on them.

'Finn,' she said, as she took in her surroundings. 'A darkroom. My own darkroom.'

In the red light he hugged her closer to him. 'Did I do OK?'

'Yes,' she said. She felt deeply moved, and horribly guilty, at once.

'You'll be able to work in your pyjamas. Or that lion onesie you're so fond of. Whatever you want,' he said, smiling.

'I love it,' she said.

'I'm glad you like it. Lauren helped me order some things up, so you should have everything you need.'

'But how did you manage all of this?' Imogen asked.

'I had a bit of help from your dad.'

'But the surf school . . .'

'I kind of got a taste for building work.'

She turned to Finn, lifting a hand to touch the rough stubble on his jaw and drawing him closer to her. She kissed him, softly at first and then more deeply, taking in the salty, outdoorsy scent of him and the warmth of his skin. 'Thank you.'

This is what I have and it's good, Imogen thought. She wasn't going to risk ruining all this. Some things were better left unsaid and the time she'd spent with Luca on the island was one of them. She'd learned her lesson. That was what mattered.

The next morning, Imogen was waiting for the kettle to boil. In front of her were two mugs, ready for tea, and two cinnamon bagels, freshly b.u.t.tered. She was going to take Finn breakfast in bed that morning, part of a vow she'd made to herself that she'd make sure they spent more quality time together.

She checked her phone as she stood at the counter. Her heart raced as she saw a new message in her inbox from Luca: 'You must be back home by now. Was it so easy for you to forget? It isn't for me.'

Panicking, she closed the message. She thought of Finn, still asleep in their bedroom, and felt acutely aware of what she hadn't told him. She wanted to fix this. She needed to. But now after she'd missed the opportunity to come clean she wasn't sure how to.

Later that morning, Imogen was on her own in the house. Finn had been so delighted with the breakfast they'd shared, but it had made her feel even worse. He'd got ready for work, and kissed her, a sweet touch on her lips that still lingered with her. Then he'd left, and all she had was the nagging of her conscience.

When Finn had left for work, Imogen had gone out to the new darkroom. She had worked slowly but determinedly, printing out the photos that she'd taken on the trip: images of gelato, trees and glistening water. She'd developed a picture of Luigi that she'd taken just before she left. When the time was right to say something to Evie, Imogen would have that to show her.

When she had finished, she came back inside and checked her diary: tea with her mum in Kemp Town before lunch, then two photography sessions in the afternoon. Back to work. A dose of normality after the whirlwind of Italy. This was what she needed.

She cycled into town and met her mother at her favourite teashop, a vintage hideaway in Kemp Town. They hugged h.e.l.lo, and the edge Imogen often felt around her mother wasn't there. So much in her life seemed uncertain that the comfort of family was just what she needed.

'Good to have you back, Imogen,' Jan said. 'So, tell me all about it.'

Imogen told her about Sorrento, the people in the community, the situation with Anna and her in-laws. And about Luigi and Evie. She couldn't resist telling that part.

'Oh, how romantic,' Jan said. 'All these years, and he's still thinking of her. You have to tell her.'

'I will,' Imogen said. 'I just want to find the right time.'

Jan's eyes were bright with the excitement of hearing about Luigi.

'You won't say anything, will you?' Imogen said. 'Please, Mum.'

'No, I won't. I promise,' Jan said.

'OK,' Imogen said. She'd given only a carefully edited version of the story of her time in Italy, of course. There was no way she was mentioning a word about Luca. Before her mum could ask her any uncomfortable questions, she changed the subject.

'Any news from the guesthouse?'

'A group of j.a.panese tourists have almost filled it this week,' Jan explained. 'All except for Clarissa's room, of course.'

'So she's still there?'