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on taking David to Italy next week? In the invitation it said we could bring a partner if we wanted. I’ll just be on my own. I’d hate to be the odd one out.’

‘I bet you won’t be. It is a business meeting, after all. I’m bringing David, but I’ll spend all my time with you if you’re feeling left out.’

‘So… you and David? How’s that going? Getting serious?’

As they were close friends, Alice had often talked to Millie about her concerns as to where the relationship might be going. Now she decided to tell her the truth. ‘I honestly don’t know, Mil. We’re still together and I still like him a lot, but I really don’t know where we go from here. It’s all just a bit stale somehow. I know it’s inevitable that some of the spark dies out after you’ve been together for a while, but I’m not convinced I’m going to be happy long-term if that’s the way it’s going already. And, anyway, there’s the question of where I’m going to end up. What if I get the art history job? That would be here in London. And if Pals Forever were to go ahead, that would take me back to Hollywood. Would he want to come with me – and would I want him to? It’s complicated.’

‘But you still love him, don’t you?’

‘I still like him, Mil. I just can’t decide how much.’

Millie must have sensed that Alice needed cheering up, so she gave her one of her trademark cheeky winks. ‘Well, if it all goes belly-up, remember there are thousands – millions! – of men out there who’d give anything to get together with the famous Polly from Pals.’

‘That’s the thing, Millie, I’m not Polly from Pals. Apart from on-screen, I never was, and I’m certainly not now.’ She caught her friend’s eye. ‘Don’t get me wrong. I’m very grateful to Polly. As well as providing me with more than enough to be able to pay my way through university, she also let me dress up in all sorts of clothes I’d never dream of wearing in real life and she supplied me with a whole host of put-downs for men who annoy me. Before I became Polly, I was far less confident and she did wonders for me, but now I have to shoulder the burden of being forever associated with the flirt. The way I am now, though, if things don’t work out with David, the next man I decide to date is going to have to want me for my brain, not my face.’

The look she received in return was a wonderful mixture of disbelief, incomprehension and ridicule. ‘Good luck with that, Al. Somehow I don’t see that ever happening – unless the man’s visually challenged.’

‘Then it won’t happen at all.’ Alice looked defiantly across the table just as the champagne arrived. ‘I really mean that.’

Chapter 3

Alice and David flew over to Florence on Monday afternoon and were met at the airport by a smart uniformed driver who took charge of their suitcases and accompanied them out to his slick black Mercedes. He spoke good English, but Alice decided to practise her Italian with him anyway. While doing her PhD, she had spent several months over here in Italy, visiting galleries, churches, castles and libraries as she carried out the research for her thesis on an obscure Italian artist who had allegedly shared a studio in Florence with Michelangelo for several years. She had done Italian A-level at school and her visits to the country had helped to keep her command of the language reasonably up to speed. David didn’t speak a word of Italian, but she felt sure he wouldn’t mind. As it was, he appeared quite happy to sit back and enjoy the luxurious interior of the limousine.

Alice waited until the driver had navigated his way through the heavy local traffic around the airport and had got onto the autostrada before asking him about the hotel where they were going to be staying. A quick check of the address on Google Earth had shown her a charming old villa surrounded by trees some way to the south of Florence, but that was all she knew.

‘Do you know the hotel we’re going to?’ She reckoned that sounded fluent enough, without too many mistakes.

The driver glanced round in surprise. ‘Ah, so you speak Italian. Bravissima!’

He replied in Italian and she was pleased to understand everything he said. Reassured, she carried on.

‘Not very well, I’m afraid. That’s why I’m using you to get in a bit of practice. So, is it a nice hotel?’

‘It’s not a hotel; it’s a private house. I’m not sure who Villa delle Vespe belongs to, but it’s very beautiful. I’ve taken people there a few times so I know it quite well.’

This came as a definite surprise to Alice. Somehow she had been expecting a hotel. She relayed the information to David and he suggested that the villa might have been rented for the occasion or might even belong to Conrad Chesterfield. Certainly, her former boss had the money to buy himself a nice villa or two.

‘You know what vespe are, don’t you?’ The driver was clearly taking his job as language trainer seriously.

Alice returned her attention to him and nodded. ‘In English, it’s wasps – Villa of the Wasps. It’s a strange choice of name. I hope this doesn’t mean the place is infested with them.’

‘I doubt it, but I’ve no idea how the villa got its name. You’ll have to ask.’

‘I will. When I checked it out on the internet, it looked as if it’s in the middle of the countryside.’

‘Almost. There’s a village a kilometre or so away, but not a big one. The villa’s right in the heart of the Chianti region. You know the wine, I’m sure. Even over in America it’s famous, isn’t it?’

Alice nodded and went on to explain that although her reception and transfer had been booked by an

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