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When midnight struck on the town hall clock, he decided he’d rather sleep in the open air than hang around in that corridor a moment longer. He walked across to the lift, pressed the button and waited. When the doors finally opened, she was standing there, looking even more seductive in the half-light. She stepped out of the lift, took him by the hand and led him along the corridor until they reached a door with no number. She placed a key in the lock, opened the door and pulled him inside.

Richard looked around a room that wasn’t much larger than his college study, and was almost completely taken up by a bed that was neither a single nor quite a double. The family photographs dotted around the walls suggested that this was where she lived. As there was only one small chair, he wondered where she expected him to sleep.

‘I won’t be a moment,’ she said, and gave him that disarming smile again before disappearing into the bathroom. Richard sat down on the wooden chair and waited for her to reappear, not certain what he should do next. When he heard a shower being turned on, a hundred thoughts began to race through his head. He was thinking about Melanie, his first real girlfriend, when the bathroom door swung open. He hadn’t looked at another woman for the past two years. She stepped out, dressed in a bathrobe, the cord undone.

‘You look as if you need a shower,’ she said, leaving the door open as she brushed past him.

‘Thank you,’ he replied, and disappeared inside, closing the door behind him. Richard enjoyed the feeling of the warm water cascading down on him, and with the assistance of a bar of soap he slowly removed the dirt and grime of a long, hot, sweaty day. After he’d dried himself, he once again regretted leaving his rucksack downstairs, as he didn’t want to put his dirty clothes back on. He looked around the room and spotted another hotel bathrobe hanging on the back of the door. He was surprised how well it fitted.

Richard turned out the bathroom light and tentatively opened the door. The room was dark, but he could see the outline of her lithe body under a single sheet. As he stood there, a hand pulled the sheet back. He tiptoed across the room and sat upright on the edge of the bed. She pulled the sheet further back, but didn’t speak. He lay down on the bed, his back to her.

A moment later, he felt a hand undo the cord of his bathrobe, while the other hand tried to take it off. He was thinking about Melanie when the receptionist finally pulled off his robe, threw it on the floor and slid her naked body up against his back. When she began to kiss the nape of his neck, Melanie evaporated. Richard didn’t move a muscle as she began to explore his body, first his neck, then his back, with one hand, while the other moved slowly up the inside of his thigh. He turned over and took her in his arms. She felt so enticing that he wanted to switch the light back on and enjoy the sight of her naked body. When he kissed her, he felt a desire he’d never experienced with any other woman, and when they made love, it was as if it were the first time. As she lay back, Richard still held her in his arms, not wanting to fall asleep.

He woke when he felt her hand moving gently up the inside of his leg. This time he made love slowly and with more confidence, and she made no attempt to disguise her feelings. He couldn’t be sure how many times they made love before the morning sun came streaming into the room, and he saw, for the first time, just how beautiful she was.

When the town hall clock struck eight, she whispered, ‘You’ll have to leave, il mio amore. I’m expected back on duty at nine.’

Richard kissed her gently on the lips, slipped out of bed and went into the bathroom. After a quick shower, he put on his old clothes. When he returned to the bedroom she was standing by the window. He walked across, took her in his arms and looked hopefully down at the bed.

‘Time for you to go,’ she whispered after giving him one last kiss.

‘I’ll never forget you,’ he told her. She smiled wistfully.

She pushed the window up and pointed silently to the fire escape. Richard climbed out and began to tiptoe down the iron staircase, trying not to make too much noise. When his feet touched the ground, he looked up and caught a final glimpse of her naked body. She blew him a kiss, making him wish it was the first day of his holiday and not the last.

He crept stealthily around some flower pots and down a gravel pathway that led to a trellised gate. He opened the gate and found himself back on the street. He made his way to the front of the hotel, and once again looked through the glass door. The beautiful vision of last night had been replaced by an overweight middle-aged woman, who could only have been the manager.

Richard checked his watch. He needed to collect his rucksack and be on his way if he hoped to see the fresco of the Madonna del Parto and still leave himself enough time to catch the train for Florence.

He walked into the hotel more confidently this time, and strolled up to the counter. The manager raised her head, but didn’t smile. ‘Buongiorno,’ said Richard.

Buongiorno,’ she replied, taking a closer look at him. ‘How can I help you?’

‘I left my rucksack here last night and I’ve come back to collect it.’

‘Do you know anything about this, Demetrio?’ she asked, not taking her eyes off Richard.

Si, signora,’ the porter replied, removing the rucksack from behind his desk and placing it on the counter. ‘This one, if I remember, sir,’ he said, giving Richard a wink.

‘Thank you,’ said Richard, who would have liked to give him a tip, but... he pulled the rucksack over his shoulder and turned to leave.

‘Did you stay with us last night?’ asked the manager just as he reached the door.

‘No I didn’t,’ said Richard, turning round. ‘Unfortunately, I arrived a little too late, and you didn’t have a room.’

The manager glanced down at the register and frowned. ‘You say you tried to get a room last night?’

‘Yes, but you were fully booked.’

‘That’s strange,’ she said, ‘because there were several rooms available last night.’

Richard couldn’t think of a suitable reply.

‘Demetrio,’ she said, turning to the porter, ‘who was on duty last night?’

‘Carlotta, signora.’

Richard smiled. Such a pretty name.

‘Carlotta,’ the manager repeated, shaking her head. ‘I’ll need to have a word with the girl. When is she back on?’

Nine o’clock, Richard almost blurted out.

‘Nine o’clock, signora,’ said the porter.

The manager turned back towards Richard. ‘I must apologize, signor. I hope you were not inconvenienced.’

‘Not at all,’ said Richard as he opened the door, but he didn’t look back for fear that she might see the smile on his face.

The manager waited until the door was closed before she turned to the porter and said, ‘You know, Demetrio, it’s not the first time she’s done that.’

15. Caste — Off*

The driver of the open-top red Porsche touched his brakes, slipped the gear lever into neutral and brought the car to a halt at the lights before checking his watch. He was running a few minutes late for his lunch appointment. As he waited for the light to turn green, he noticed several men admiring his car, while the women smiled at him.

Jamwal gently touched the accelerator. The engine purred like a tiger and the smiles became even broader. Far more men than usual seemed to be looking in his direction. As the light turned green, he heard an engine revving up to his left. He glanced across to see a Ferrari accelerate away before dodging in and out of the morning traffic. He put his foot down and chased after the man who had dared to steal his thunder.