‘The best of all possible news,’ he said, kissing her lightly on both cheeks. ‘Some might say long overdue, but good news often is, isn’t it?’

Domenica smiled. ‘One mustn’t rush these things.’ They both laughed.

‘And now,’ James said. ‘We must celebrate. A party, I’d say? This evening? Here?’

Angus said that they would love to celebrate, but was the idea of holding a party not somewhat ambitious? ‘There’d just be three of us,’ he said. ‘You, me, and Domenica.’

James raised a finger in contradiction. ‘There are actually plenty of your friends within hailing distance, more or less. Leave it to me.’

By happy coincidence, Mary and Philip Contini were not far away, staying in a small village where they were sampling a particularly fine olive oil. They told James that not only would they be happy to come to the party, but, more than that, Mary would roll up her sleeves and do what she could with whatever supplies Domenica had in her kitchen. They would bring olive oil.

There were others who were equally obliging, with the result that when the guests started to arrive at six o’clock that evening, a miracle on the scale of that performed at Cana was in the making. Loaves and fishes had been found in abundance as Italy opened her store cupboards in a spontaneous display of generosity and good feeling. There was more than enough.

‘We’re very lucky,’ said Angus, as he stood beside Domenica and surveyed their group of friends.

‘Look at everybody,’ said Domenica. ‘Who would have thought it? Alistair Moffat – I’m right in the middle of his wonderful history of Tuscany, and there he is. Will Lyons, here to cover a Chianti festival for the paper. Andrew and Susanna Kerr – off to some lecture on the Piccolomini library in Siena. Peter de Vink in a farmhouse just six miles away. The Cliffords – Tim about to find some long-lost masterpiece under a sofa in Montepulciano. Astonishing. Malcolm and Nicky Wood in Italy because she’ll be singing at some concert in Florence. Amazing, Angus. Quite amazing.’

Angus thought for a moment. ‘Poor Antonia!’ he said. ‘She’s missing all this.’

Domenica did not reply immediately. She was not sure that Ant onia would have enjoyed this occasion, as she had set her sights on Angus. But now that she was with the sisters in the convent things might be different – and there was some evidence for that. ‘Yes, of course,’ she said. ‘Such a pity. But I had the impression when I spoke to her last on the phone that she was thinking of … Well, I felt that there was a hint of a vocation.’

Angus smiled. ‘Would she make a very convincing nun?’

‘Stranger things have happened. And for all we know, there may be a post-Stendhal Syndrome Syndrome. Who knows?’