The coach followed the route we had taken the previous day, allowing me to pass on much of the same information to Noah, until we parted company with it at Ponte Vecchio, and they went on to Ponte Santa Trinità. Noah, being something of an expert on the Thames, unsurprisingly had been particularly fascinated by the bridges, explaining to me why construction was more difficult in London because the river was not only considerably wider, but also subject to the vagaries of the tide with two highs and lows each day. Eventually, though, we arrived behind my father’s house, where we were able to get our horses out of the sun inside the stables.
When we walked across the alley, he touched my shoulder. ‘Thank you, Raphael, it was everything I expected and just as you described to Sam that night.
