The provisional figures for the stay at the Hotel Palazzo Solaia now stand at €2,111.59 for Jomier and €1,091.59 for Judith. Working on the premise that Christmas dinner in a good restaurant would have cost €120 a head at the very least, Jomier knocks €300 off the €420, Judith’s share of the bundled Christmas dinner, welcome pack, etc., but divides the €863.18 for miscellaneous extras by two. This he considers generous because, apart from the Herald Tribune and a couple of Camparis at the bar of the hotel, the extra costs had been incurred by Judith – a massage, telephone calls to her children (he had called Henry and Louisa on his mobile: she had not arranged ‘global roaming’ for hers), laundry (surely she could have taken her dirty knickers back to London) and bottle after bottle of San Pellegrino from the minibar. The final tally for the Albergo Manzoni and Hotel Palazzo Solaia is €2,451.59 for Jomier and a paltry €831.59 for Judith.

Jomier now turns to the other expenses of the trip which he has downloaded from his Palm Treo. The list is long, starting with the Ryanair tickets to Treviso, the taxi to Stansted, the baggage charge, the bus from Treviso, the Albergo Manzoni, supper that first night, coffee at Florian’s, lunch at Harry’s bar, tickets to museums, scuole, the opera; rides on vaporettos; one gondola; more coffees, more lunches, more suppers. All these Jomier divides by two. Finally, with one last click, he comes up with a grand total for the whole trip – €4,243.18 Of this, Jomier’s share is €2,931.59 and Judith’s €1,311.59 or, with the euro at 1.34 to the pound, £978.80 sterling. Surely that will be within her budget. She can hardly have expected to pay less.

Chapter 21

Chapter 21

It is the second Friday of the new year. Jomier is sitting with Judith in the Taj Mahal Indian restaurant in Wandsworth. This is the first time the two have seen one another since they parted at Liverpool Street Station. They meet and kiss and cling to one another in a prolonged embrace. Only the intoxicating smell of curry and a sense of decorum leads them to put the demands of their stomachs before that of their loins. A predictable but perfect evening lies ahead. Poppadoms. Chicken jalfrezi. Bhindi bhaji. Fried rice. Naans. Raita. One pint and one half-pint of Tiger beer. A new pack of Viagra in Jomier’s pocket. Judith’s house and bed nearby.

They catch up. Judith laughingly describes the hippy discomfort of Tim’s farmhouse in Devon, and the grungy neighbours who gave a party to celebrate the New Year. ‘They smoked joints and drank cider. I promise you! Home-made cider to toast the New Year!’ Jomier describes the equally ghastly party given by his friends the Hamilton-Russells. ‘Everyone still hung-over from Christmas. And all that forced bonhomie.’