sure, just that it would be lovely to see her again.’
Elena nudged her friend, who looked at her sideways and winked conspiratorially.
Luisa’s expression changed from fury to excitement. ‘Did you know anything about this, Livia?’
‘Me? No! I had no idea he was even coming.’
‘Well, never mind,’ said Luisa excitedly. ‘I told you he liked you. Now, what do we have in the cupboard that I can turn into something edible?’ She left the dining room muttering, heading for the kitchen.
Moments later, Livia heard cupboard doors slamming and pans being put onto the stove. ‘Oh, poor Mamma,’ she said sympathetically.
‘It’s good for her,’ replied Giacomo. ‘It will take her mind off my sick father.’
Vicenzo arrived at midday, carrying a large bunch of roses which he handed theatrically to Luisa. She blushed and started to make polite conversation about his family.
Giacomo quickly interrupted her. ‘Luisa my dear, Vicenzo has something important to discuss with me in private. I think we should get on.’
‘Of course, of course,’ she replied. ‘The girls and I will get lunch ready. Will two o’clock be all right?’
Lunch was laid out on the terrace. Livia and Elena had gathered fresh vegetables from the garden, and Luisa had prepared as many dishes as their rationing allowed. Wild flowers were placed in small vases all down the long table, shaded by a Russian vine scrambling over a pergola above.
By two o’clock, Luisa had put on her best dress, and was waiting expectantly on the terrace with Livia and Elena. Vicenzo, who by then had been informed of the little deception, emerged from Giacomo’s study and everyone sat down for lunch. He began to chat animatedly with the two girls, paying particular attention to Livia – complimenting her on her dress, asking about her studies and occasionally openly flirting with her.
Sitting at the head of the table, Luisa looked on approvingly.
When lunch was over, Vicenzo finally made his excuses. ‘Well, I’m afraid I really must get going,’ he said. ‘It’s been a wonderful day, but I have to get to Forte dei Marmi tonight.’
The family stood outside the villa to say their goodbyes. Vicenzo shook Giacomo’s hand and kissed Elena on the cheek. ‘Look after your friend – Livia’s a special girl,’ he murmured. He took Luisa’s hand and kissed it theatrically. ‘Thank you for a wonderful lunch. I hope to see you in Forte dei Marmi very soon – you’re welcome at any time.’
‘Oh, Vicenzo!’ Luisa blushed, fanning herself. ‘We’d love to come. Give my love to your parents.’
Vicenzo finally turned to Livia and whispered into her ear: ‘I think we convinced your mother.’
He climbed into his open-topped Alfa Romeo, and drove away in a cloud of dust.
Luisa took Livia by the arm and steered her back into the house. ‘Well, what do you think?’ she asked conspiratorially.
Livia feigned innocence. ‘Of what?’
‘Of Vicenzo, of course! Has he asked you?’
‘If you mean what I think you mean, then no, he has not proposed – which is a relief, as I would have had to refuse him.’
‘Refuse him? Are you mad?’ cried Luisa. ‘Refuse a Count who’s an old family friend? Why, what objections could you possibly have? He’s handsome, rich, charming, talented, artistic—’
‘I don’t love him,’ Livia interjected simply.
That evening, once the table had been cleared, and Livia had helped to feed and settle her grandfather, she and Elena sat together in the garden, watching the sun sinking over the trees.
‘I was thinking,’ Elena began, ‘that I might go back to Florence tomorrow with your father.’
‘Don’t you want to stay?’ Livia asked, slightly hurt.
‘It’s not that,’ replied Elena quickly, ‘and I feel terrible leaving you, but I’m worried about my mother. She’s by herself all day, while my father’s at work. As your father is driving back to Florence tomorrow, it would be sensible to go with him. Otherwise I’ll have to wait till September.’
‘I’ll be lonely without you.’ Livia felt suddenly dejected. ‘I wish I was going back too.’
‘Why don’t you?’ Elena asked.
‘I have to stay and help with Nonno. But hopefully we’ll find a nurse soon, and I’ll be able to get back.’
Livia felt bereft as she waved goodbye to Elena and her father the following morning. It was unbearable to have been left up in the hills with her mother, out of harm’s way, while down on the plain in Florence, the Resistance was forging ahead. She would never be content with an ordinary life, she realised. The business of running a home, loving a husband, raising a