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G iulio! Livia! Venite!’

Nina’s bossy command to join her carries over the bouncy rhythm of the saltarello and Giulio and I exchange brow messages before jogging over to where she’s holding court with Ma, Kenzi and my other friends.

Giulio and I are both a little breathless when we collapse on to the ledge of the fountain, squeezing in between Ren and Sofia.

‘This language swap of yours...’ Nina begins, and I think she’s frowning, though it’s always really hard to tell. ‘I’ve had a complaint from one of my regulars...and a demand for compensation.’

My face falls. Compensation? The bar has been busy...but has it been too busy? Have we taken over...pushed someone out?

‘Enrico’s insisting I buy him a new pair of trousers – your language swap has made him go up a waist size, apparently.’

Ren actually looks proud.

Then Nina’s serious face melts into...well, a slightly less serious one...and she reaches over to pat my knee. ‘I want to keep it going.’

‘I promise it will run itself,’ Sofia reassures her. ‘I’ve set up a page and a chat and everything.’

‘Your nonna has even offered Mehdi a job,’ Kenzi adds. ‘He needs one for his citizenship application, and she’ll need help when Giulio goes back to school and you and your mum...’ Her voice trails off, and there’s a flicker of sadness in her eyes.

‘Go back to Scotland,’ I finish, looking at the faces of my friends and family. I linger on Giulio’s last and longest. ‘But I’ve got plans to come back.’

His lifts one eyebrow the tiniest fraction. Go on.

‘I was thinking...when I finish my exams next summer, I might apply to university here, in Rome. And if you’re OK with it...’ I turn to Nina and take a deep breath. ‘I’d like to stay with you. I feel like I’ve missed out on really getting to know you.’

Nina beams at me – actually lights up with one of the Botox-defying eye-crinklers she usually reserves for Giulio. ‘I’d like that too, cara . Very much.’

‘Great,’ Ma interrupts. ‘But can we discuss this tomorrow? We need to get you back to the hospital. What were you thinking, Mamma?’

Nina scowls. ‘ Nemmeno per sogno! No way! Do you know how hard it is to find a taxi during a strike, and a driver willing to pick me up from hospital? Santo Cielo! You’d think I was trying to break out of prison.

Comunque , I can stay with Giulio – his parents are still away and the building has a lift. ’

Nina doesn’t even check if this is OK. But then, why would she?

Hasn’t Giulio been telling me all summer that the two flats are practically connected, and that he’s drifted between them most of his life?

But their closeness doesn’t leave me feeling left out like it used to – if anything, it makes me feel I belong here too. With them.

Just as that thought crosses my mind, I hear a rumble that I initially mistake for my own stomach, seeing as I haven’t eaten properly all day.

Then a blue Vespa comes tearing towards us, the rider’s helmet plastered in anime stickers. For a second, I’m thrown. It’s Flaminia. She’s come back for Giulio.

But those wiry legs sticking out on either side of the bike can only belong to Signora Pedretti. She skids to a stop in front of us like a stunt rider.

‘Couldn’t resist making an entrance,’ she announces, cutting the engine.

She takes off the helmet and hands it to Giulio. ‘This is yours, I believe...and so are these.’ She holds out the keys, but he’s so limp with shock she has to press them into his hand and fold his fingers around them. ‘Adelina called me when she found out Bertolli was pressuring you for it.’

Nina sniffs. ‘That man had as much chance of getting your Vespa as he did of getting our bar.’

I decide not to point out what a close call that had been.

Giulio’s eyes are on stalks. ‘But I sold it . . . to Flaminia.’

Signora Pedretti dusts an imaginary speck off the shoulder of her blouse.

‘Because that’s what we wanted you to think.

We knew you’d sell it to help out, so we made sure the Vespa stayed right where it belongs.

Flaminia brought it back after her shift.

She would have come, but she had to catch the last bus. ’

‘But the money—’ Giulio begins.

‘Oh, that’s real enough,’ Signora Pedretti interrupts. ‘But it’s a loan, nothing to do with the Vespa. Adelina and I have already come to an agreement. A fair one without any tricky fine print, I might add.’

Only then do I realize the music has stopped, and people are drifting away...leaving an uninterrupted view of the mess that’s been left behind.

Nina starts bossing Ma around, giving her instructions for what she needs from her flat. When they leave, Kenzi leaps to her feet and squeezes me into a huge hug. ‘I can’t believe you’ll be staying in Rome! That you’ll actually live here. We’ll keep in touch no matter what, OK?’

I laugh...and gasp for breath a little too. ‘I still have a couple of weeks left, you know.’

‘Doesn’t matter,’ she insists, straightening, but not letting go of me entirely. ‘You can’t escape us, even if you tried. Sofia’s already created a group chat.’

‘Prepare to be spammed.’ Sofia grins.

But Ren is uncharacteristically solemn. He places a hand over his heart. ‘I’ll share pictures of every new dish. And send you care packages. Something that travels well...’ He pauses, thinking. ‘Miso-and-black-sesame biscotti and maybe some—’

‘Forza!’ Signora Pedretti appears in front of us with a collection of boxes and bin bags. ‘I had to call in a favour to get a permit for tonight and I promised we’d clean up after.’

The others scramble. Then it’s just Giulio and me sitting on the ledge of the fountain, still thigh to thigh even when there’s now plenty of room.

‘So...’ he says, stretching his feet out then pulling them back again as if he’s as jittery as I am.

‘So . . .’ I echo.

‘We should probably...’ He gestures vaguely to where Ren is packing up the food stall.

‘Help, right?’ Sofia interrupts with a smirk, throwing a couple of black bags towards us.

Giulio laughs and catches them easily.

‘At least it wasn’t your mum,’ he whispers into my hair as he pulls me to my feet, his hand holding mine way longer than necessary. ‘Want to meet up on the roof terrace later?’