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I can’t think about my rooftop rendezvous with Giulio last night without my face bursting into flames.

But I can’t stop thinking about it either – which basically means my cheeks have been on fire non-stop.

So when Giulio walks into the bar the next morning, I immediately insert my head into the under-counter fridge.

‘So, umm, I’m not sure we have enough milk, but...do we increase the order, cancel it completely or keep it as it is?’

There. Cool and professional and not at all flustered about our near-kiss last night.

But it’s Ma who answers. ‘Don’t place any orders, Livia, d’accordo ?’

I pull my head out to find Ma looking smarter than I’ve ever seen her – so put together, I suspect she’s raided Nina’s wardrobe, because even Nina’s dressing gowns have a tailored look about them.

And the reason she’s sneaked up so soundlessly is not because she was a cat in her former life, but because she’s barefoot – a pair of heeled sandals from the rack upstairs dangling from her fingertips.

I point to the few remaining milk cartons. ‘But it’s been busy—’

‘And we have no idea if the bar will still be ours after tomorrow,’ she finishes.

Uff! The words land like a gut punch as Ma reaches over to close the fridge door. Not that I need it any more. I’ve gone cold all over. We’ve come so far, worked so hard to turn the bar around...how has it got to the point where there’s no point ordering milk?

Ma hikes a smart leather handbag – also not hers – on to her shoulder. ‘I’ve got things to do this morning, but can you two pick up some food and meet me outside the hospital at 1 p.m.?’ Her gaze locks with mine. ‘Outside, d’accordo ? No sneaking in to talk to Nina without me.’

We both give Ma a silent nod.

She puts on the sandals and totters out of the bar. Giulio and I watch until she disappears from sight, pausing every few paces to free the stiletto heel from the pavement cracks.

We’re focused so intently that we both jump when a loud meow suddenly echoes through the bar.

Giulio’s head whips round. ‘Is there a cat in here?’

‘Nope...that’s Ma’s ringtone. She must’ve left her phone.’ I scan the counter and spot it peeping out from under the pile of daily newspapers that were delivered a short while ago.

A notification lights up the screen and my heart jumps into my throat. ‘It’s a message from Bertolli.’

‘Cosa? What does it say?’ Giulio’s beside me in a second.

I type in Ma’s Password-For-Everything and read the short text. ‘It’s instructions on how to access his office building. And look at this...’ I show Giulio the screen.

It will be a pleasure doing business with you again.

I frown up at Giulio. ‘Again? Does Ma know Bertolli?’

Giulio rubs a hand down his face and groans. ‘This is exactly what Nina was worried about...Caterina having secret meetings.’

The minutes drag after that, the clock hands barely moving, even with the bar getting busier around us.

Now, as we sit outside the hospital, it’s still the same.

The parmigiana we picked up for Nina is balanced on Giulio’s knee, bouncing in time to his jitters.

I can only imagine what kind of mess it’ll be in when she opens the container – a lumpy disaster of aubergine and mozzarella.

The last thing we need is a ruined lunch on top of the bad news we’re about to deliver.

I try to read Ma’s face as she hobbles across the small piazza, her panda-eyed look of exhaustion saying more than she ever could. Whatever happened with Bertolli, it can’t be good.

But first things first.

I pull her phone from my pocket and thrust it towards her. ‘We know you’ve been to see Bertolli.’

Ma actually looks around as if something might swoop in to save her from answering, then she presses her lips into a line. ‘Fine. But can we go inside? I’d rather say what I have to say only once.’

Nina is sitting upright today, and her leg – which had been suspended in a sling during our last visit – is now free, although wrapped in a cast from her ankle to her knee. And there’s a wheelchair in the corner of the room, ready for use.

Nina frowns at Ma – their standard mother–daughter greeting. ‘What are you doing here on a weekday, Caterina?’

Ma looks like she’s about to pull a wax strip off her upper lip. She’s going for the quick-rip method too, because she cuts right to the chase. ‘I’ve been to see Bertolli.’

Nina pales, her blushed cheekbones clownish against her papery skin. ‘Caterina . . . you didn’t. Not again . . .’

Giulio and I exchange eyebrow messages over her head. Not again? What does that mean?

Ma clears her throat. ‘Your loan—’

‘Is my business,’ Nina interrupts. ‘Have you been snooping in my private papers?’

‘No, Mamma, you’ve got it wrong. Bertolli’s overseeing your loan. He works for the bank now.’

‘What? No. He’s a property developer. How can he be with the bank?’ A tiny furrow appears between Nina’s brows. She must be frowning hard.

‘The previous manager retired last month,’ Ma explains. ‘Bertolli was hired and he’s the one in charge now, Mamma.’

Nina looks stunned. ‘And you didn’t think to tell me this sooner?’

Ma spreads her hands wide. ‘I didn’t know any of it until yesterday...I didn’t even know you’d borrowed that money! Why didn’t you tell me?’

‘And hear you say I told you so? That I couldn’t manage? That I was past it?’ Nina folds her arms across her chest, looking old and toddler-like at the same time.

‘Well...you have fallen behind on the payments, Mamma. Three months’ worth.’

‘So?’ Nina shrugs. ‘I’ve been late before. They know I’m good for it.’

‘This time is different,’ Ma says softly. ‘Bertolli pointed out a fine-print clause in the contract. He’s demanding the full balance – fifteen thousand euros – or...’

Nina sets her jaw. ‘Or what?’

Ma waits for Nina to look at her. ‘Or he’s going to repossess the bar. And the apartment too. The whole property’s tied up in the loan, Mamma. And I think he’s been slyly waiting for time to run out...hiding from you...from me...’

Nina’s expression darkens. ‘He’s always wanted that bar. Always...’ Her voice trails off and, whatever she’s remembering, it isn’t pleasant.

‘He said he’d take five thousand euros from the debt if I give him my Vespa.’

I’ve been so focused on Ma and Nina, and the volley of words passing between them, that I’d forgotten Giulio was here... Cavolo! I’d almost forgotten I was here.

Nina snaps back to the present. ‘Over my dead body! You are not giving him that Vespa. And let’s be clear – I’m very much alive.’ The Vespa issue is dismissed just like that. ‘So, what did you arrange with him this time, Caterina?’

Right. That’s it. I am fed up of secrets.

‘What do you mean this time?’ I burst out. ‘We should be working together...but how can we, when none of us has the full picture? What’s going on?’ My trainers squeak on the tiled floor as I swivel to face Ma. ‘And how do you know Bertolli?’

Nina lifts her chin, her piercing gaze never leaving Ma. ‘Go on, Caterina. Tell her.’