someone.’
‘It’s complicated,’ Isabella began cautiously. ‘There is someone I like, maybe love, but I’m not sure if he feels the same.’ She laughed nervously as Daniele handed her a drink. ‘It’s tempting fate to talk about it… So tell me,’ she went on hurriedly, ‘where did you two meet?’
The young couple gazed at one another lovingly, and both began to speak at once.
‘You go first,’ Daniele said, laughing.
‘We met on a bus in Rome, didn’t we?’
‘We did.’ He took her hand in his and kissed it. ‘I was there for an exam and I sat behind her. I thought she had the most beautiful neck I’d ever seen. When she got off the bus, I followed her.’
‘I didn’t notice him at first,’ Mimi continued. ‘I sat down in a café and this man...’ she stroked Daniele’s cheek ‘...this very handsome man, sat down at the next table and introduced himself.’
‘You’re very lucky,’ said Isabella. ‘It can be hard to meet people in my situation… to make relationships.’
‘I’ll get on with dinner, shall I?’ suggested Daniele. ‘Then you two can talk.’
‘He’s wonderful,’ said Isabella, when he had gone through to the kitchen.
‘He is,’ Mimi agreed. ‘He cooks and cleans and he loves me. What more could I ask?’
‘And there are no problems?’ asked Isabella.
‘What sort of problems?’
‘Well, he’s Jewish, isn’t he? And you’re Catholic.’
‘That’s not a problem for us. His family are all in Genoa, which is why we chose to live here. They were perhaps a little disappointed that he’d chosen to marry a gentile. But they’ve accepted me now and are very kind.’
‘The bombing must be hard to live with,’ Isabella suggested.
‘The planes aim for the industrial areas; shipbuilding is important here.’
‘Yes, I noticed the damage when the taxi drove past the harbour. Still, it must be frightening.’
‘You get used to it,’ said Mimi calmly. ‘Besides, I’m on the Allies’ side.’
‘Really?’
‘Of course. The government are beginning to stoke up such bad feeling about Jews. Until now we’ve always felt safe here. But recently there have been a few attacks on Jewish businesses and shops. It’s a worry – you know?’
‘But Daniele is a doctor, surely no one would do anything to harm him?’
‘I’m afraid being a doctor is no protection.’ Mimi’s eyes filled with tears. ‘People who hate Jews just see a person who is less than human.’
‘Surely that can’t be true?’ said Isabella, shocked.
‘I think perhaps you live in a rather different world,’ Mimi replied quietly.
Isabella thought of the evenings she had spent at the Acquasanta with Count Ciano and his cronies. She knew Jews were not allowed to become members, but it was not something she had ever given much thought to. And while Count Ciano was not himself anti-Semitic, she had often heard unpleasant remarks about Jewish people during his dinner parties – casual throwaway comments that she had chosen to ignore. But now she felt guilty that she had remained silent.
Over dinner, the couple were keen to know about her life. Where did she live? What was it like making a movie? Who was her favourite leading man? All simple enough questions – the sort of questions she answered every day in fan letters. But it made her feel awkward: her life seemed too far removed from theirs and the dangers they faced every day.
That night, Isabella was taking off her make-up, when she suddenly heard a siren, followed by a knock on the bedroom door.
‘Isabella! Isabella!’ It was Mimi. Her tone was urgent.
Isabella opened the door to see Mimi standing on the landing wearing a thick dressing gown, clutching Minou to her chest.
‘The planes are coming,’ said Mimi. ‘Quick, we must go downstairs.’
‘What do you mean?’ Isabella was confused.
‘To the shelter… in the basement. It will be cold down there,’ she said, looking at Isabella’s silk nightdress. ‘Do you have a dressing gown?’
‘Yes, but it’s in my trunk downstairs. I’ll just put on my coat.’
As Isabella pulled her fur coat on over her nightdress, she noticed the sky was filled with aircraft heading towards the harbour. Terrified, she followed Mimi and Daniele downstairs.
The basement rapidly filled up. Three elderly couples arrived in quick succession, well prepared with blankets and baskets of provisions. They leant against the wall in a corner of the room, covering their legs with the blankets, and laying out thermos flasks of coffee and packets of playing cards – clearly ready to occupy themselves through the long night.
A young woman arrived in floods of tears, her face smeared with mascara. ‘He