‘You’re busy this evening,’ Isabella observed to the desk clerk. ‘Are they all here for a New Year’s Eve party?’
‘No, madame,’ the clerk replied. ‘These people are residents. We are full up.’
‘How astonishing, I had no idea so many people took holidays at this time of year.’
‘They are not holidaymakers, madame,’ he explained quietly. ‘They are refugees.’
‘Where from?’ she asked confused.
‘From the north of France. They are Jewish – escaping from the Nazis.’
Isabella was disturbed by this revelation – that people should be forced to seek sanctuary in a hotel, merely for being Jewish, was incomprehensible.
Over the following few weeks, once the filming began, Isabella became aware of the resentment of the local people, who were angry at ‘the Italian invasion’, as they saw it. There were times when waiters and shop assistants could be rude or dismissive. But Isabella learned to smile and be as charming as possible.
Her co-star Louis Jourdan was, without doubt, the most handsome man she had ever met. Tall and slender, he kissed her hand when they were introduced, and flirted effortlessly with her. To her relief, she felt no attraction for him; to be in love with one’s co-star is never a good idea. Besides, he had a terrible reputation for breaking women’s hearts, and over the course of the filming she observed him in action, as he seduced one member of the cast and crew after another. A succession of broken-hearted young women were often to be found sobbing in the make-up room after their night of passion with Louis.
She wrote regularly to her mother.
The filming goes well… but I am exhausted working in French all day. I get back to my room each evening, and just sleep. I’m glad you didn’t come – I’m no company for anyone.
Her mother wrote back, complaining that the housekeeper and the gardener had left. Giuseppe had been called up into the army, and his wife had decided to leave Rome and move in with her sister.
I have been abandoned. I can’t cope alone, so have invited Mamma and my sister to stay.
Isabella was mildly irritated at this development, but was nevertheless resigned. Her mother at least would have company and help in the house. Her only anxiety was that with no prospect of another film after La Bohème, the money she made from this film would now have to support four people.
When the film project began, she had hoped for a few words of encouragement from Vicenzo, but had heard nothing. At first she felt hurt by his lack of interest, but she convinced herself that he was simply busy. After all, he was an artist with an artist’s temperament. He was not like other men, weighed down by petty jealousies and trivia. She frequently took up her pen to write to him but, fearful of appearing too desperate, abandoned every letter. No man wanted to be chased by a woman. But eventually she could bear it no longer, and one Sunday afternoon, as she gazed out of her hotel window at the gun-metal-grey sea, she put pen to paper.
Dearest Vicenzo,
I hope all is well with you. I trust you had an enjoyable Christmas.
I am quite settled here in Nice. It would be marvellous to see it wreathed in sunshine, but most of the time it has rained – a dark leaden rain that falls continuously from a grey sky. I imagine before the war it was a wonderful place. Now it reminds me of a beautiful woman trapped in an unhappy marriage – all is grey and gloom, the beaches covered with barbed wire, the hotel guests filled with sadness and woe.
The film is going well, and I hope you would be proud of me. I am working very hard. It is ‘realistic’ – filled with tragedy and sadness – so I hope you approve! The part is stretching me, both emotionally and intellectually. I spend all day weeping in French – it’s utterly exhausting!
My co-star, Louis Jourdan, needs no introduction from me. Perhaps you know him already. His exquisite beauty is well documented, but he has talent too. Off set, I keep my distance, you’ll be glad to hear. His reputation precedes him! He has taken a villa in Nice and has invited me to a couple of parties. They are enjoyable enough, but Louis is always surrounded by women who are hopelessly lost in love with him. I fear he torments them mercilessly and I am relieved not to be among