“Don’t sulk, darling,” the contessa replied, a look of amusement on her face. “If you frown, you’ll get wrinkles, and you know how much you value your beautiful face.”

“Now you mock me.”

“Not at all. Besides, Juliet’s classes start again next week, so you can have me all to yourself once more. And if you are clever, you can find me another German Jewish artist of the calibre of Goldblum.”

He seemed to be appeased. I was sorry my time with the contessa was coming to an end. She was such a cultured and amusing person, and frankly I learned more about art from her than I would have done in a year’s art history course. The beginning of September approached, along with the renewal of my classes and the return of my friends and my landlady. She came home on September 1, red-faced and out of breath after climbing the stairs.

“Welcome home,” I began. “You will find Bruno alive, well and as naughty as ever.”

But she held up a hand to cut me off. “You have not heard the news! They were talking about it on the train station. The place was in an uproar. Germany has invaded Poland. It seems the world will be at war again.”

CHAPTER 26

CHAPTER 26

Caroline, Venice, October 11, 2001

Back in her aunt’s former apartment, Caroline got to work. She stripped the bed and threw out the bedding. She was relieved to find that the mattress seemed to be intact, with no mice nests lurking inside. With much effort, she turned it, then opened the windows to let in blustery air as she swept, mopped and dusted. She was happy to see no recent signs of infestations, just some long-dead flies on the windowsills. It was hard work, but by the end of the afternoon, she felt an absurd sense of achievement. She wrote a list for the next day: Buy bed linens. Buy a new electric heater. The ancient electric fire looked as if it belonged in a museum and could set the building on fire in seconds. She was delighted to find the electricity was on in the building. And that the strange contraption over the bath actually produced hot water.

The list included food, tea, wine. Just the basics, she thought. It would be easy to take a main meal at one of the nearby trattorias. She couldn’t wait to spend her first night here, but it would have to wait until she had new bedclothes and food. So she went back to the pensione and returned to the little trattoria for her evening meal. After dinner she used the computer that was set up for the guests in one of the salons and sent an email to Josh.