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asked, just as he was starting to feel comfortable, once more taking him off guard as his mind struggled to come to terms with what had occurred. He had stepped across a threshold, emerging into a parallel existence where everything was essentially the same yet nothing seemed quite as it had before. His bearings were all misaligned, his context changed, unfamiliar. He gave himself up to truth.
    â€˜Um, yes, it was,’ he said, propping himself up on one elbow and looking at her.
    â€˜That’s remarkably honest,’ she said. ‘I approve.’
    He looked into her eyes but they hid themselves again in the darkness. ‘What about you?’ he asked.
    â€˜Oh, yes, me too.’
    â€˜You’re pulling my leg’
    â€˜Of course. Just a little white lie.’
    There was a strangely comfortable silence.
    â€˜Why did you arrange all this?’ he said. ‘I mean . . .’
    She ran a hand across the lower reaches of his abdomen. ‘Oh, Aldo, isn’t that obvious?’
    â€˜Well, yes and no. You have a husband, this is your house here, you have a life . . .’
    â€˜I have a life? What do you know about my life?’ Her voice was suddenly harsh. ‘Are you so sure you really want to know about all that, about why you’re here with me? Maybe you just got lucky and for a few hours I’m yours. It might never happen again. You’ll leave this house and you’ll never come back. Maybe you’ll never even see me again. Didn’t that occur to you?’
    â€˜I hadn’t really thought.’
    â€˜No, of course not, you hadn’t really thought. Listen, Aldo, as you’re so interested in the truth, let’s play a little game. I ask you a question, and you must answer truthfully. Whatever I ask, you have to answer, and it must be the truth. And then you ask me a question, and I’ll answer truthfully, whatever the question. Anything goes.’
    â€˜But how do I know you’ll be telling the truth?’
    â€˜Because those are the rules, so you’ll just have to trust me. We’ll start with an easy one, all right, until you get the hang of it. Which part of this sinking pile of a town do you call home?’
    â€˜Come on, that’s a pretty uninspiring question.’
    â€˜Didn’t I just tell you the rules? Do you need me to explain them to you again? They’re not that hard.’
    â€˜No, I think I’ve got them.’
    â€˜Good. The questions will get more interesting later, I can assure you of that.’
    â€˜Cannaregio. Fondamenta della Sensa. About half-way along, opposite Ponte del Forno.’
    â€˜Never been there.’
    â€˜Near Tintoretto’s house.’
    â€˜Tintoretto? Very nice. That’s what I’ll call you . . . my little Tintoretto. Now you. Ask me a question. And make it a good one.’
    â€˜Is this your room?’
    She exhaled loudly. ‘An equally uninspired question.’
    â€˜You made the rules.’
    â€˜Don’t be so cheeky.’ She pinched his thigh, not too hard, just a suggestion of control. ‘Of course it’s my room. Whose room do you think it is?’
    â€˜I mean is it where you usually sleep?’
    â€˜Yes, this is where I usually sleep. Any more stupid questions?’
    â€˜Where you both sleep?’
    â€˜Where we sleep, and make love, and argue, and all those other things.’
    â€˜Those other things?’
    â€˜Hey, Tintoretto, that’s three questions. My turn now. Do you live with your mum and dad, over there at Tintoretto’s house?’
    â€˜Near Tintoretto’s house. Yes, with them . . .’
    â€˜Mummy’s boy, eh?’
    â€˜. . . and with my dog and my sister.’
    â€˜In that order?’
    â€˜And my grandmother – she’s from the Ukraine.’
    â€˜Tintoretski, eh? So you speak Russian?
    â€˜Ukrainian too.’
    â€˜And your