Diana watched dispassionately as Antonio arrived at the pier. She was sitting on the old stone wall smoking a cigarette, which she did every morning, watching as the clients arrived at the booking office, measuring them up and knowing before she joined them how the day would go. Antonio did not acknowledge her presence. They had grown used to not greeting each other.
The pier was buzzing with tourists. Some were waiting for the ferry to Capri, others for the smaller boats to take them along the coast. It was nine-thirty and already about eighty-five degrees and disagreeably humid. Diana's hair stuck uncomfortably against her neck and she was longing for the cool breeze the moving boat would bring. Even better would be the first plunge into the refreshing sea. The couples waiting for her boat, she decided, looked okay. They were chatting easily to each other. It could have been a great day if it had not been for one thing. Antonio.