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Her papa said, ‘I’d like to move you children and your mother to the village. I could stay here and work, but at least you’d be safe.’

Now her mother had something to say. She rattled off in fast Maltese. ‘Are you mad, Enriku? We are not separating!’

‘I’m mad keeping you here,’ her father snapped.

Suddenly a debate erupted, both voices getting louder, arms being waved in the air.

Valentina smiled at Peter, who was looking between them astonished. ‘This is normal, Peter. They’re arguing about how much they love one another and us,’ she assured him. ‘It sounds much worse in Maltese, I know. Every conversation sounds like an argument.’

He didn’t look entirely convinced. ‘I’d better get back.’

The heated debate was brought to an abrupt halt as Peter struggled again to his feet and her father leaped to help him.

‘Please assure your mother that I will keep my promise about the food. Give me a couple of days.’

Valentina duly repeated this in Maltese and her mother beamed. Then, one on either side of the airman, she and her father escorted him on the slow descent back to the hospital, with Valentina keeping up a flow of information she hoped he would find interesting.

‘… and now, hundreds of years later, our city’s people have moved into these same lifesaving spaces, including the cisterns. Oh, you should see them, Peter, they’re impressive. And we’ve begun to make tunnels of our own. When I walk around them now, I realise we’ve not just dug holes of safety but we have tried to recreate life above. Some people have installed front doors, lights and some have even tiled their underground living spaces.’

Peter chuckled through the strain of the walk. ‘Are you always this enthusiastic, Valentina? I thought you hated the tunnels.’

‘Oh I do!’ she assured him. ‘But I try to stay cheerful for my younger brothers. And I do find the history interesting.’

‘Well, it’s good to keep everyone optimistic.’ He looked at her. ‘Do you know this word?’

‘Does it mean happy?’ she guessed.

‘Sort of. It means looking forward with a cheery approach.’

She smiled. ‘Then I shall do that.’

When they arrived at the hospital, she watched Peter thank her father sincerely, promising again to organise some food and supplies. It hurt her heart to see her father so grateful, all but bowing to Peter.

‘Come again,’ her father said in English twice over, pointing back in the direction of their bar. ‘Bring your friends.’

‘Thank you, Mr Camilleri.’ Peter looked over at Valentina and then back at her father. ‘You have a beautiful and intelligent daughter, sir. I hope you will all stay very safe.’

Her father gave the pilot a nod and then tapped the side of his nose knowingly. ‘I have already made a very good marriage for this one,’ he said, nodding at her.

Peter cut her a look, and when she wasn’t fast enough to disguise her fallen expression, she shook her head once to let him know not to pursue it. He seemed to understand, for he blinked, dredged up another smile and reached out his good hand. ‘Be safe,’ was all he said as he and her father shook hands.

‘I’m heading back to the bar, but see him inside, Leni,’ her father said in Maltese. ‘We need him to keep his promise.’

‘He will,’ she murmured, vexed that her father would think otherwise of the man she loved. ‘Let me help you in,’ she said in English to Peter.

‘I’ll be fine,’ he assured her.

‘But I’d like to see you to the ward.’

She walked ahead of him before he could argue, guessing he didn’t want to be seen leaning on a girl.

After all the fuss from Maria and the other nurses getting Peter back into bed in his room, the doctor turned to Valentina and said, ‘Now don’t stay long. The lieutenant really needs to rest.’

She nodded. ‘I’ll just say goodbye.’

‘Make it quick,’ he said and turned to Peter. ‘No more walking about, Lieutenant Fox. Please give your body a chance to heal.’

‘I promise,’ Peter said, but Valentina guessed he probably wasn’t being altogether truthful.