‘Actually, I don’t,’ said Domenica. ‘I’ve been to Tuscany once or twice, but only to the obvious places. Pisa. Florence.’

‘Ah, Firenze,’ said Antonia.

Domenica stared at her. It was the height of pretension, she felt, to use a foreign name when there was an established English one. Not only was it pretentious, it was absurd, even if people insisted – ridiculously – on calling Peking Beijing. Did those same people refer to Roma or Köln when talking about Rome or Cologne? They did not.

‘Tell me about the Grosseto Road,’ Domenica said. ‘Has it got fine views?’

She knew immediately that Antonia had never seen the Grosseto Road – her hesitation, slight though it was, was enough to make that quite obvious. She decided to press her advantage; Antonia must be helped to abandon her habits of affected intellectual superiority.

‘Does it give you good views of the marble quarries?’ Domenica asked. She had no idea if there were marble quarries in the area, but then neither, she felt, did Antonia.

‘Sometimes,’ said Antonia lightly. She spoke as if marble quarries were not the sort of thing she would deign to notice.

Domenica insisted. ‘Of course Cardinal del Monte had a house down there, didn’t he? And Berenson’s villa, I Tatti, was near there, or a bit closer to Florence, I think.’ She paused. Antonia was looking uneasy. She decided to go in for the kill. ‘I Tatti is such a wonderful name for a house. It’s named after the nearby potato fields, I believe.’

‘Yes,’ muttered Antonia. She was not sure – did I Tatti have anything to do with tatties?

Domenica looked at her friend through narrowed eyes. With any luck, that would be enough to stop too much further posturing about Italy. And Antonia was being kind to her, she reminded herself; no matter what flaws Antonia had – and they were legion – she had been kind enough to make this generous offer and it must be appreciated.

But then Antonia delivered her bombshell. ‘I’ve asked Angus, of course. And I think he’s going to come.’

Domenica could not conceal her surprise. ‘Angus Lordie?’

Antonia nodded. ‘I was telling him about it the other day. He was walking that ridiculous dog of his in Drummond Place Gardens. I mentioned I had been offered a villa in Italy and he started going on about how he had gone to Italy on a travelling scholarship when he finished at the art college. He said that he’d love to go back and do some painting. So I asked him.’

‘I see,’ said Domenica.

‘And he was very keen on the idea,’ went on Antonia.