I don’t know where the time has gone. Recently there is a spirit of optimism because the Americans have entered the war on the side of the Allies. “They’ll bring it to an end quickly,” the old men in the park say. The year has gone smoothly enough, although with no identity card I worry about being questioned every time I go out. I have been spending most of my time at the contessa’s villa. She wanted me to stay with her all the time, but my conscience got the better of me with regard to my duty to monitor shipping, so I try to spend a couple of days a week at the flat, leaving Angelo in the safety of the Lido. Luckily German shipping has decreased recently after Hitler invaded the Soviet Union in June and turned his efforts to that direction. I hope that means that he is no longer planning to invade Britain and that the bombing has lessened. Still nothing from my mother and no way of communicating with her. Also nothing from Leo. I am very worried, but I hope he is on some kind of secret mission and will return safely.

Angelo is growing into a sturdy and active little boy. His hair is indeed taking on my auburn shade, and his eyes are a wonderful deep blue. Such a handsome little fellow! He climbs all over the furniture, runs around the contessa’s garden and delights in playing with Hanni, who is now fluent in Italian and seems quite at home. We have had no word from her parents, however. That may be a precaution not to give away her whereabouts. But she seems to be accepting the fact, and I hear her singing in her sweet high voice German nursery songs to Angelo: “Hoppe hoppe Reiter. Wenn er fällt, dann schreit er . . .”

We have had several visits from Vittorio recently. He turned up out of the blue, just as charming and attentive as ever. I suspect he may have fallen out of favour with the powerful men in Rome. That man makes me nervous for some reason. Clearly he resents that the contessa is fond of me. He also resents Hanni’s presence. The contessa has asked him to take some of her more valuable paintings into storage at his gallery, just in case. She seems to be quite happy that he’ll look after them for her. I’m not so sure. He always strikes me as someone who will change sides whenever the wind blows.