Its 7am foggy, frosty, icy windows, good truffle weather.
The wood oven is lit.
Time to steal a moment before the day begins to pick up the conversation
... two months ago I left you with a question of how to tackle the vexed problem of restaurant cancellations, then we took off on our annual holiday this time to Italy and London where Smallwood and Benyan had promised to get the band back together, well at least, for one night.
On the last leg of the flight to Milan, with Diane, and most of plane asleep, I am getting excited about Italy and spy a movie called I am Love on the program. It is set in Milan and I settle down to while away the last hour or three of this long haul.
It’s quite a beautiful film, where for me, the star is the house in which it is set.
We land, freshen up. The flight has been smooth and after breakfast Diane takes me to the first stop on her very fluid cultural itinery and within an hour, as if in a dream we are magically walking in the movie set, the villa Necchi Campiglio.
But Tilda’s not there nor is the soup and there are no bloodstains in the pool.