Amongst them, two outcasts: Hal, an English journalist who’s living on his charm; and Stella, an enigmatic society beauty, bound to a profiteering husband. When Hal receives a mysterious invitation from a wealthy Contessa, he finds himself aboard a yacht headed for Cannes film festival. This book has great potential: mostly interesting characters, a fascinating era, wonderful settings, and two storylines that weave together well. (It's important to note that I don't typically like "time-traveling" storylines, but this one worked for me—probably because it's not another mysterious-letter-left-in-a-musty-suitcase tale.) Ocr_converted abbyy-to-hocr 1.1.20 Ocr_module_version 0.0.17 Old_pallet IA18115 Openlibrary_edition Well,’ Fede says, patiently, ‘you could pretend to be me. I think we do not look all that different.’

But a year later they are unexpectedly thrown together, after Hal receives an invitation he cannot resist. An Italian Contessa asks him to assist on a trip of a lifetime -- acting as a reporter on a tremendous yacht, skimming its way along the Italian coast toward Cannes film festival, the most famous artists and movie stars of the day gathered to promote a new film. Someone once told me,’ she says then, ‘that a party is only an event if there is at least one interesting gatecrasher in attendance.’ She raises her eyebrows, continuing to study him. ‘ Are you a gatecrasher?’She nods, slowly. And he wonders if he has made the exchange, given the thing demanded in return for entry. But no, her questions haven’t ended yet. Hal shrugs. ‘My editor thought my style was… too academic, not right for our readership.’ It had been replaced with an agony aunt column: ‘ Gina Risponde…’ Roman housewives writing in to ask how to get their whites whiter, lonely men asking how to conceal a balding pate, young women eager to work in the capital asking whether it was really the immoral, dangerous place their parents spoke of. Yes. A contessa is throwing one for her rich friends. Trying to attract investment for a film, I heard. I have an invitation, but cannot go. It is next month – I must be in Puglia by then, for Christmas.’ He glances at Hal, sidewise. ‘Unless you are returning to your family, too?’ One evening, when he’d had too much to drink, Hal made the mistake of telling him about Suze, about the engagement. Ever since, Fede has been unremittingly curious about Hal’s former life in England.

The doorman turns to her, triumphant but obsequious. ‘This man, my Contessa, he is not who he says he is.’ When I can afford it. It is why I am throwing this party – to try and persuade others they want to see it made too.’ The Contessa is shaking her head, as though over some great wrong. ‘But why would you work somewhere like…’ she seems to be searching for the name. Hal meets her eyes for as long as he is able, and then he has to look away. He felt for a second that she was seeing right into him, and that he was exposed. He understands, suddenly, that he won’t be able to get in without answering her question. He is reminded of the myth of the Sphinx at Thebes, asking her riddles, devouring those who answer wrongly. He says, honestly, ‘Yes, I do.’ Because she does have it, a charisma beside which the charms of youth or beauty are so much blown thistledown.

On the rare days of calm I used to imagine her emerging from the depths like Venus, carried towards me on the sea foam. Or not carried perhaps, that was not her way. Striding out of it, then, shaking seawater from her sleek head. But, of course, it is the wrong sea. Thank God for that. If I had spent these years gazing out upon that other sea, I think I would have gone mad. If you see a book with a Good Housekeeping Reader Recommended Books logo, you can feel confident that it has been read and loved by readers just like you. Outside he discovers a flight of stairs leading up, not down, to the roof of the tower itself. Curious, he climbs them. He is astonished to discover himself in the midst of a roof garden. Rome, in all its lamplit, undulating glory, is spread beneath him on all sides. He can see the dark blank of the Roman Forum, a few of the ancient stones made dimly visible by reflected lamplight; the marble bombast of the Altare della Patria with its winged riders like cut-outs against the starlit sky. Then, a little further away, the graceful cupola of St Peter’s, and further domes and spires unknown to him. A network of lamplit streets, some teeming with ant-like forms, others quiet, sleeping. He has never seen Rome like this. Rome, 1953: Hal and Stella meet by chance, two outcasts in a city far from home. Or perhaps it was the hand of the gods that night as the Eternal City welcomed the beautiful elite to its rooftops. It’s a bright awakening for Hal, he believes he’s found the love of his life – his Stella, his star.

I've liked her others much more than this. The kind of elite world and surrounds of such film crowds are just not that interesting to me. Beautiful, beautiful part of the world in Cinque Terre. I've been there and it a good representation of that particular area feel. It was akin to watching an historic, epic Hollywood movie, set in the days of romance and fine manners. Women were either the elite, the beautiful, and/or the quiet suffering ones amongst the rich and famous. Picture traveling on the Contessa’s yacht, along the sunny coast of Italy, sipping Prosecco. Yes, there’s an official, wonderful, and credible countess. Which brings me to why I don't get why Hal was so very into her. He was willing to think the worst of her husband and see her as the embodiment of all that was good. Much good it did him in the end. Of course, there is a more recent time that must be banished from conversation and thought. The war meant humiliation, tragedy. It meant hardship and poverty too. People want prosperity now, they want nice clothes, food on the table, things. It is the same in England. There was the jubilation over the victory, the hailing of the returned heroes. And then there was the great forgetting. Hachette Book Group is a leading book publisher based in New York and a division of Hachette Livre, the third-largest publisher in the world. Social Media

Full of mystery and long-reaching shadows of the past . . . richly drawn and compelling’ Rosanna Ley Because of your suit, of course. I never make mistakes about tailoring. It is English-made, I think?’