After she’d gone and I’d locked up the shop, I headed back to Marcia and Pete’s to find the house empty and a note telling me they’d gone out to the theatre. I went into the kitchen, poured a glass of wine and sat at the table. It struck me that for all that had happened since India, and the excitement of a possible mystery man, I was still alone. Something had changed, though. I felt liberated and open to new possibilities, and that feeling that I had to control my life and my work by keeping endlessly busy had been replaced with a sense of what would be would be, and whatever that was would be revealed in time.

Next to the note that Marcia had left, I spied an envelope. It was addressed to me. A silver envelope. I felt a shiver of anticipation as I ripped it open and read the card inside.

To Bea Brooks,

I am inviting you to join for me for cocktails at 6.30 p.m. at the Bar Terrazza Darsena at The Grand Hotel Villa Serbelloni in Lake Como in Italy, followed by dinner on the terrace in the Mistral restaurant on June 14th. Plane tickets in accompanying envelope. Make sure your passport is up to date as I hope this will be the first of many. X

Wow. The Italian lakes? That’s some invitation, I thought as I turned the card over to see if it was signed. Needless to say, it was blank. Who sent this? I asked myself as I put the card aside. I got out my laptop and tapped in Grand Hotel Villa Serbelloni. It took me to an elegant-looking, five-star hotel on the shores of Lake Como. I clicked through the pictures. The Mistral restaurant showed a terrace with tables that looked out over the water. Another shot showed the view at sunset. The Bar Terrazza showed another terrace looking out over the lake. You couldn’t find a more romantic location, I thought as I clicked through. Whoever had sent the invite was clearly making a big effort. Join me for cocktails, he had written on the invite. So either he planned to reveal himself, or else I was going to be sitting on that terrace on my own. I opened the accompanying envelope and found that it contained details for a flight from Heathrow to Milan, a plane ticket, and a message saying that a car would pick me up at the airport so to look out for a driver who would be holding a card with my name on it when I arrived in Italy. Hah, so someone was still thinking of me. Who? It appeared that I would find out soon.

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