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She nodded, now moving around his room to inspect it. ‘Yes, two annoying brothers, Ganni and Matteo.’

‘Younger? Older?

‘Younger,’ she said with such a tone of despair he couldn’t help laughing. ‘Usually I get a break from them when we’re at school, but living in the tunnels…’ She gave him a pained look.

‘That bad?’

‘They’re so tiresome,’ she said.

‘So you’re in charge of them?’

‘Not really. Papa is. Mama is always…’ She shook her head, clearly searching for the right term.

‘Harried?’ he offered.

‘I don’t know this word.’

‘I’m surprised, because your English is just terrific. You’ve obviously a very good ear for language.’

‘Thank you. I speak Italian too.’

‘I recall you saying. Gosh, I wish I did. You must study hard.’

She shrugged again. ‘Most people in Valletta speak Italian. We have friends there, and many have family in Italy, which means their betrayal of us hurts so much more.’

‘Yes, I can imagine.’

‘But I learned much of my English in my father’s bar. We’ve served the British there since before I was born, he says. It’s called Camilleri’s.’

‘Ah, yes. I’ve heard of it, but haven’t been there.’

‘My father wants you to visit. Told me to ask you to come – and bring your friends.’

Peter smiled. ‘It’s the least I can do, given his daughter all but rescued me.’ He could see by the straightening of her shoulders that this remark was meaningful. ‘I promise I will visit. Anyway, harried means being under strain,’ he explained.

‘I will remember this word. I think I’m harried.’

That made him laugh. ‘You know, your mother is probably feeling anxious about how difficult life is, raising a family beneath the ground. This is not the usual situation.’

Valentina nodded. ‘She’s the most frightened of all of us.’

‘Probably because she’s got the most to fear.’

‘Why?’ She frowned now, looking at him.

‘Because she has the most to lose.’

‘I don’t understand.’

‘Your mother, as I understand it, has three precious children, Valentina. She worries about how to keep you all fed when there’s no food, and safe when the city is being bombed daily. And I imagine she is probably especially worried for her headstrong daughter, who doesn’t react to the air-raid sirens and defies instructions.’

She cut him a glance to see if he was telling her off, but he’d said it gently, and with another smile. ‘I’m called Leni at home.’

‘Leni,’ he repeated. ‘Well, I understand why, but I think Valentina is such a classical name. Do you know what it means?’

She shook her head.

‘It comes from the Latin “valens”. It means strong… valiant.’