While puttanesca sauce is commonly referred to as 'whore's sauce,' it was not officially recorded as such until the 1950s, a lot later than the time that this story is set

'There's nothing wrong with him' said the good doctor, striding out of the room. 'His blood pressure has elevated and overwhelmed him today but he's not in danger unless he continues to power on like he has recently. It's up to him though.'

Concetta smiled ruefully.

'Easier said than done, I know' Dr MacMillan nodded. She was adept at reading expressions. The daughter of the house had an angular melancholy face that spoke of resignation. Mac had seen her smile. She'd dined with Jack Robinson at their restaurant. She was fond of Stranos. It had excellent veal dishes and red wine. They'd put their prices up recently but she didn't begrudge that. People needed to make a living. She couldn't go there every week though, much as she would like to. Concetta had recognised her from previous dinner engagements and had called her out to attend her uncle. Mac had heard Jack call her that so she knew her name.

'I'll make a reservation soon' she promised as she made to leave. The other woman was simmering something delicious on the stove.

'If you have decided when, I will check now. With Jack Robinson?'

She sounded eager at his name. Jack hadn't been to the restaurant for a while, although Mac had noticed that he was fond of her. Just not as fond of her as Concetta would have liked.

'She's making eyes at you' she whispered to Jack as they perused the menu. Concetta was used to having him to herself but her attention did not waver and she served Mac assiduously with the same attention to detail as she would with anyone. Mac had elicited a smile from her while pouring the wine. Mac could be persuasive that way. She could see that Concetta was observing to see if Jack's current dinner companion meant more than just dinner. The poor woman had already had a polite altercation with Phryne and Mac wasn't going to make it difficult for her. They discussed several cases over their spaghetti, nothing more.

Jack gave her a stern look. She gestured that she was just saying. If he wanted to behave himself that was his choice. She didn't need to though, nevertheless trying to be subtle in her flirtation. What else did the poor woman have in life? The string of red beads she wore seemed to be her only rebellion. No doubt her widows weeds were dutifully waiting for another man she didn't love to be assigned to her. She'd heard the story from Jack the first time he'd invited her to dinner. It was a bloody waste of a good woman, she mused as the fine figure greeted them. Her family didn't seem to appreciate her. No doubt Concetta was kept under a watchful eye. Mac made sure to keep her gaze and smile at her for a few seconds longer while she was pouring the wine or explaining the menu. The second time, Mac asked about several dishes just to hear her dulcet tones. She'd never come this close to an Italian woman before. They tended to stride and scurry about swiftly, usually in groups.

'Just me this time.'

A millisecond of disappointment flashed in Concetta's eyes but she smiled and nodded.

'Jack and I talk about work over dinner. We haven't had much to discuss recently and we can't drink that excellent red wine as much as we would like to.'

Concetta smiled.

'Perhaps tonight? At 8?'

Mac decided compulsively. She didn't have to wait for Jack and the workload to enjoy the delights of an Italian.

'Bene. I will expect you at 8 then' said Concetta, making a mental note.

'Watch out.'

The spoon she was holding was dripping. Concetta licked the spoon hastily. She blushed slightly when she saw Mac watch her interestedly.

'Which sauce are you making?'

'Puttanesca.'

'I've never heard of it.'

'It is quick and simple. I make it most days. No Neapolitan household would be without it.'

She spoke lightly but Mac got the impression that her family's grasp weighed down on her.

'What's in it?'

Concetta showed her the ingredients and Mac considered once again how Italians could make a meal out of all sorts. Trash fish into hearty soups. Dough into those pasta shapes with logical names. Capers, olives and anchovies were a combination she wouldn't think of combining but then she was a doctor wasn't she. Cooking was not her forte. She lived off bread and cheese and chomped vegetables whole. If she wanted meat or fish, she'd buy it ready cooked by a vendor who would do it better than her.

'Would you like to try?'

'Won't say no.'

Concetta dipped another spoon in the saucepan and held it out for tasting. Mac stepped forward and supped it with no preamble. It was salty and tangy and delicious.

'That's the kind of thing I'd love after a long shift. Can it be kept for long?'

'Si, a lot of sauces can taste just as good if stored for a few days.'

Mac nodded her approval.

'What is it called again?'

'Puttanesca.'

'What does that mean?'

Concetta laughed, a most promising sound.

'It is named after prostitutes.'

Mac raised her eyebrows in surprise. Concetta was certainly a lady but she seemed unruffled by such a bold exclamation. Mac liked that. She could imagine that there was a naughty side to her.

'Will it be on the menu tonight?'

'I can arrange for that.'

'Wonderful. I'll see you at 8.'

Concetta nodded and looked pleased.