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Valentina shrugged. ‘Oh, he’d play professional football if such a role was offered tomorrow, I’m sure, but I think if you asked Danjel for his dream careers, it might only be third or fourth on his list. First would be something to do with history, art, learning… perhaps even academia.’

‘Then he must be encouraged. You have cousins in Italy, don’t you?’

‘You mean I should send him away? He’s so young.’ Peter shrugged. ‘I was young.’

‘Yes, and I know how distant you were from your family as a result,’ Valentina said, frowning. ‘You admit to having no real relationship with either of your parents.’

‘That’s true, but much of that is because my parents didn’t really want that kind of relationship with me. They were a pair of cold fish, as we say in England.’

The expression made her laugh.

‘You are far from that,’ he continued. ‘You give Danjel so much love and warmth and affection. He would never question your commitment to him.’

‘He might if I send him away.’

Peter shook his head. ‘He’ll know exactly why you’re doing it.’

‘His father would never agree.’

‘Maybe he would. You’ve only recently said how much he resents Danjel.’

She looked over at Danjel, checking he was far enough away to not overhear. ‘The feeling is mutual. I try never to think about it, but lately Danjel actually hates his father.’

‘Well, from everything you’ve told me, Lawrenz has brought that hate on himself. I don’t feel a moment of sympathy for him.’ Peter took a breath. ‘Valentina, you should go too. Take Danjel to Italy, anywhere… just get away from that man.’

He was echoing her own thoughts. ‘When do you leave, Peter?’ she asked. ‘It can’t be much longer now that you’ve fulfilled your task with the royals.’

He looked down, tossing the mandarin peel into a small bag they were collecting rubbish in. ‘In two days,’ he answered, suddenly looking awkward.

‘Oh. That’s soon,’ she remarked, keeping her tone light, not betraying her despair. She hadn’t realised just how adept she’d become at masking her feelings.

‘I do have to get back to work… report to my boss…’

‘See your wife,’ she continued.

He gave her a sharp look. ‘No, I told you we’ve separated. We shall file for divorce when the year and one day of our separation is finalised.’

‘Sorry,’ she said, embarrassed by her jealousy. ‘It’s just been so lovely to see you.’

‘It’s not over yet. We still have our picnic with Maria tomorrow. Where shall we go? Maybe we let Danjel choose?’

‘Why not?’ she said, feeling like she didn’t really care what happened next. Her mind was elsewhere, on a question she’d been wanting to ask, but avoiding because right now there was hope. Once she asked it, that hope might be dashed.

Finally, it spilled from her mouth. ‘Peter, do you think Carmel took what Her Majesty said seriously? About me being involved somehow with the restoration?’

She could see Peter wasn’t ready for the sudden change in topic, and he took a moment before shaking his head. ‘I can’t say, Valentina. I barely know Carmel. He was put on the spot, and when caught unawares, people often say what they think the other person needs to hear. Especially someone as important as the Queen of the Commonwealth.’

Valentina felt that hope start to dissipate, but it wasn’t unexpected; Peter was only airing what she already knew deep down and didn’t want to accept.

‘He strikes me as a traditional man,’ Peter continued.

‘Who only sees me as the cleaner. Go on, be honest.’

He shrugged. ‘I don’t blame him. That’s what you have been to him, and women aren’t usually involved in these sorts of things – certainly not in Malta, from my understanding.’

‘That was a little too honest,’ she said, moving onto her knees to start packing up the picnic things and tablecloth she’d laid out.

He reached over and grabbed her arm, pausing her activity. ‘What do you want me to say?’