‘I fed you and clothed you and tried to mould your character, but nothing can change the way you are. You will never amount to anything. Wretched child.’

Cruel, cutting words that left a deep mark. The Spinolas turned their backs, maintaining a rigorous silence, hiding the facts from polite society. Ginie had braced herself for storms of rage or tears. She hadn’t expected silence, solid as a curtain. They seemed to want to erase Ginie from their family history. It was intended as a punishment, but she was grateful for it.

She found cheap lodgings in Santa Margherita. She lived quietly, nursing her wounds, going for long walks by the sea. There was an ache in her heart; a raw, physical ache. She was grieving for her marriage and full of dread for the future. What if no man ever wanted her again?

No. She had to be hopeful, to look towards a life free of pain. She had just received a letter from her school friend, Rose, who was travelling in Italy and wanted Ginie to meet her in Courmayeur.

Do say you’ll come, it urged. The crowd in Courmayeur is young, sporty and social. We’ll have a ball.

Ginie wondered if she should pawn her engagement ring and spend some of the cash on the trip. There was no knowing what, or who, Destiny might put in her path.

11 The Courtaulds, London, 1920s

11

The Courtaulds, London, 1920s

As he and Ginie stood on the doorstep of his brother’s house in Portman Square, Stephen could hear the high-pitched whine of shells in his ears and knew it was going to be a bad night.

He blinked and gave his head a shake to dispel the sounds, trying not to picture the soil and torn limbs spurting into the air. He had started to sweat and his collar felt tight around his neck.

Just breathe, he told himself. Breathe in air and push it out again. Focus on Ginie, so vibrantly alive beside you. Look at the soft hair curling on the nape of her neck, inhale her perfume and underneath it the scent that’s just Ginie.

The front door swung open and they were met with Sam’s butler, Roberts, who greeted them courteously and without eye contact. Ginie handed him her wrap, the slight tremor of her hands betraying her nervousness. Stephen’s parents had died before the war and this was her first time meeting his family. He wished he could reassure her. They were a very humdrum lot and not as interesting as her little finger, but there was only time to give her hand a brief squeeze. They were quickly ushered to the drawing room, where Sam and his wife, Elizabeth, were getting to their feet to say hello.

Sam held Ginie by the shoulders and kissed her on both cheeks, telling her how delighted he was to have a new sister-in-law.