After that, the whole day was soured for me. I had planned to shop at the market, to buy flowers for my room, perhaps a small bouquet for my landlady, but I couldn’t bring myself to buy anything that would bring joy or beauty. Instead I stopped in a small coffee shop and had a coffee and a couple of open-faced sandwiches. I realized in the future I should eat a more substantial lunch, as the evening meal chez Signora Martinelli was not going to be large. Last night it was a hard-boiled egg sliced with some tomatoes, mozzarella cheese and coarse bread. It seems that meat is an expensive luxury in Italy, but fish is plentiful and cheap. I dropped hints that I love fish, but she said it makes the place smell. I think I’ll be eating my fish out at lunchtime.

I carried my supplies home and got a disapproving look from the signora. “I hope there will not be any paint used on these premises,” she said.

Oh dear. She’s not the warmest of people, and I find myself thinking of my comfortable room at home, the generous meals cooked by my mother. I’ve only been here three days—I can’t possibly be homesick already. Seeing Bianca Da Rossi must have really upset me. To know that she is beautiful was bad enough. To know that she doesn’t seem to care a fig for Leo is even worse. I tell myself it is none of my concern. I must get on with my life.

July 6

Today was my first day of classes. Signora Martinelli boiled me an egg for breakfast, as if she sensed this was a momentous occasion for me. She made it clear that eggs were a luxury usually reserved for Sundays. It was a clear and windy day, which was good, as the canals tend to smell bad when the air is still. I tucked my portfolio under my arm, and off I went to meet my destiny! That sounds a little dramatic, doesn’t it? But that’s how it felt. My chance to escape from the mundane, the routine, the boring, and to discover my true potential.