to me in any way. He says he cares about me, but then he ignores me for weeks on end.’
‘Perhaps there’s someone else?’ Her mother had an uncanny ability to read her mind. It was almost a relief to hear her worst fears articulated.
‘Do you really think so?’ Isabella asked.
‘I don’t know,’ said Giovanna, ‘but it seems the most logical explanation. What sort of man is he? Does he play the field?’
‘No, not really,’ Isabella replied uncertainly. ‘Lots of actresses are in love with him, but he is aloof from everyone. Oh Mamma, I really love him! He is my soulmate.’
‘Well, he’s handsome, I know that – I met him once, remember? He’s the best-looking man I’ve ever seen.’
‘I know he’s beautiful, but that’s not why I love him.’
Giovanna snorted in disbelief.
‘Really!’ Isabella insisted. ‘His looks are irrelevant.’
Her mother rolled her eyes heavenwards.
‘Believe me, Mamma. I fell in love with him because he was so attentive. But recently, he’s begun to change – he was quite cruel to me at a party recently, humiliating me in front of other people. Everyone laughed at me. I felt ridiculous and very hurt. He’s never been like that before. I worry…’ She paused, rolling the dough rhythmically between her fingers.
‘Worry about what?’ her mother asked impatiently. ‘Tell me?’
‘That he’s found someone else,’ Isabella finally blurted out.
‘Who? Another actress?’
‘No. Someone from a good family – someone he’s known all her life. He mentioned he was visiting her family over the summer. I keep thinking, what if he’s planning to marry her? What if it’s like Ludovico all over again? A man who did love me but was never going to marry me, because I wasn’t…’ She trailed off, angrily punching the dough with her fingers.
Her mother took the dough away from her and sat down. ‘Because you weren’t good enough?’
Isabella nodded, sobbing.
‘You won’t achieve anything by crying, my girl.’
Isabella wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. ‘I know, you’re right.’
‘So what are you going to do about it?’
‘I don’t know. Vicenzo’s never actually said I’m not good enough, but perhaps he’s being pressurised by his family.’
‘By that bitch of a sister, you mean? I remember you telling me how controlling she was at their dinner party.’
‘Maybe,’ Isabella agreed. ‘It’s just like Ludovico’s mother all over again, isn’t it?’
Giovanna stood up and began to knead the two piles of pasta dough together. ‘What do you know about this other girl?’
‘Only that she’s a university student in Florence. Her father is a lawyer – a liberal.’
‘Mmm – a liberal…’ mused her mother. ‘And what makes you think she may be the one?’
‘He spoke about her with such… passion. He described her as “fiery”.’
Giovanna raised her eyebrows. ‘Passion, eh?’
‘He’s had other women friends before,’ replied Isabella, ‘other actresses, but I’ve never heard him expressing such admiration for a woman before.’
‘Well…’ said her mother, choosing her words carefully, ‘… perhaps you could make her disappear?’
‘What on earth do you mean?’ asked Isabella, incredulous.
‘We live in complicated times, Isabella. Maybe this girl isn’t all she seems. You said her father is a liberal, so I presume he’s anti-Fascist. Does she share his feelings?’
‘I don’t know, Mamma.’
‘What are Vicenzo’s political views?’
‘He’s left-wing, like a lot of artistic people – but the last thing I want is to get him into trouble.’
‘Of course not, but have you thought that perhaps this girl is bewitching him, encouraging him to believe things that are dangerous?’ suggested Giovanna knowingly.
‘Do you think so?’
‘Perhaps he needs protecting… from himself.’
‘I don’t know.’ Isabella sounded doubtful. ‘I have no evidence that’s what is going on.’
‘Well, Vicenzo must have said something to make you think this girl and her father are involved with anti-government activities,’ Giovanna persisted.
‘All he said was that he was meeting with them over the summer, and that they might agree to help him in some way. I had the impression they were part of some kind of political movement.’
‘There you are then,’ said Giovanna firmly. ‘She is dragging him down a dangerous path. I think he needs you to help him, to protect him.’
‘How on earth could I do that?’
‘By discouraging their relationship.’
‘But how?’ Isabella insisted.
Her mother sighed, set aside the dough and crossed her arms. ‘You have friends in high places, don’t you, Isabella?’
‘I used to,’ replied Isabella, thinking of Ciano.
‘You still do. For example, you’re friends with Princess Agnelli. You told me yourself she is involved with negotiations between the German High Command and the Vatican – I don’t know how