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Anna was rumoured to be a nymphomaniac, or that Don’s arms were pocked with scars from his heroin habit, or that handsome Gordon and gnomelike Mike had eyes only for each other. Kate wasn’t sure how much she believed of what anyone told her, but she did know that the sedate world she’d grown up in seemed wonderfully far away. In spite of the filth and the hard work and their primitive living conditions in the hostel, she was glowing with happiness. Ever since she could remember, the word ‘grown-up’ had been synonymous with responsibility and seriousness, yet here she was, fresh out of school and without a care in the world. She was free. Life was an adventure.
    ‘Look, there’s that girl again.’
    Kate had noticed the stranger earlier, when she was walking back to the hostel after work. There was something about the solitary figure that drew the attention, even in this city of misfits and foreigners.
    Tall and well-groomed, she was much too elegant to be one of the flood volunteers. Her tumble of light brown hair was caught up in a pair of tortoiseshell combs and the velvet collar of her coat was turned up against the raw night air. She wore black leather gloves and her black patent-leather bag matched her shoes. But one of the combs was slipping, a mass of hair drooped over the side of her face, and her shoes were caked with mud, dismal grey mud that spattered her stockinged legs. She was walking slowly towards them. Eyes to the ground, the unknown young woman was in a world of her own—and it didn’t look like a happy world either.
    Instinctively, the gaggle of volunteers slowed down, breaking the chain to let her through.
    Kate’s happiness that evening was the kind that wants even strangers to share her good fortune. ‘Buona notte,’ she said, but the girl didn’t acknowledge the greeting and stepped between them like a sleepwalker.
    ‘Stuck-up cow,’ said Don.
    ‘Good legs, though,’ said Aiden.
    A faint aroma of expensive perfume lingered after she’d passed. Kate turned and watched her as she walked away. At the end of the street the stranger hesitated, as though uncertain whether to go towards the Piazza Signoria or over the bridge. Kate had a sudden urge to invite her to join them, but didn’t want to risk a second rejection.
    Don suggested a speedy remedy for such prissy-looking solitary females, and everyone laughed. Aiden linked his arm through Kate’s again and they continued on their way to the party and forgot all about the elegant stranger.
    Lungarno Corsini Due, the building which housed the British Consulate, fronted onto the Arno and had therefore borne the full brunt of the flood’s impact. The road outside was still impassable to cars. In fact, it looked as though a large bite had been taken out of it by the river, and the wrecked section was roped off.
    But once they climbed the stairs to the first floor the volunteers entered another world. There was an awesome array of drinks, canapés on huge platters borne round by uniformed staff and three sorts of cigarettes in silver cases scattered around the room. And on top of that, the other guests seem to have been invited for the sole purpose of telling the volunteers how heroic they were.
    ‘Stand in front of me, will you, Kate,’ said Don, who was already emptying the contents of one cigarette case into his pocket.
    ‘Shouldn’t you leave one or two?’ she asked. ‘It’s a bit obvious taking the whole lot.’
    ‘Too late now.’ Don was cheerfully helping himself to a glass of wine from a passing tray.
    Across the room, Kate could see Aiden sliding a half bottle of vodka into his inside pocket; his large cape had many advantages. She only hoped the British Consul didn’t realize how his hospitality was being abused.
    ‘Kate, you look fantastic!’
    She spun round. ‘David, when did you get here?’
    ‘About half an hour ago. I thought I’d better get here early before it all got pilfered.’
    Kate liked David—but at