I debated whether to buy a small gift for Henry and ended up getting him a Murano glass dog with a sorrowful face. It was enough to make anyone laugh when they were feeling low. And then there was Leo. What did one give a man who was exceedingly rich and could buy what he wanted? Then I decided that I was going to be bold for once. I saw a plain silver locket in the market. I bought it and cut off a small curl of my hair, tying it with a pink ribbon. At least he would have something to remember me by when I had gone.

I stocked up with panettone, the traditional Christmas cake that now appeared in all the bakeries, bought a chicken to roast with all the trimmings and decided to invite Henry to join me for the day. I was surprised to receive an invitation from the Contessa Fiorito, sent to me via my professor, to join her on Boxing Day for her annual party. As she was Jewish, I wouldn’t have thought she’d celebrate Christmas at all. I debated long and hard about taking her a gift and then settled on a pot of white snowdrops from the market. Flowers are always so cheering, and they reminded me of the first signs of spring at home.

I didn’t expect to see anything of Leo, knowing that Christmas is such a big family holiday, but I heard a tap on my door just as it was getting dark on Christmas Eve. Francesca had gone home hours before, having made me a traditional fish stew for my dinner. I gave her a generous Christmas tip and saw her smile for the first time. So I was surprised when I opened the door to find Leo there, gasping for breath. In his arms was a large box.

“I ran up all three flights,” he said, giving me a kiss on the cheek as he came in. “I’m due at the family dinner, but I couldn’t let the holiday pass without seeing you. I’ve brought you a present.” He put the box down on the table, then watched with anticipation as I opened it.

It was a large box, and I couldn’t think what it might be until—“Oh,” I said, surprised and pleased. “It’s a radio! How wonderful.”

“I wanted you to know what was going on in the world,” he said.

“I have a small gift for you, too,” I said, and handed him the leather box, tied with a ribbon. He glanced up at me, questioning, then opened it. When he saw the locket, a smile spread across his face. He took it out, opened it and held it in his palm.

“Your hair?” he asked. “A lock of your hair?”

I nodded. “I wanted to give you something to remember me by when I have gone.”