Chapter Two
TEN YEARS AGO:
SPRING 1983
On the spring morning I’d first arrived in the small town of Grancorso, Italy, an army of schoolchildren had taken over the train station platform. Heedless of their teachers, they swarmed and screamed and provoked one another. From the train doorway, I heaved my book-heavy duffel out onto the platform where it landed with a thud. A cumbersome backpack pulled taut around my shoulders, I turned, grabbed the handrail and descended the wrought iron steps, almost tripping on the duffel, which I then dragged through the web of darting, laughing youngsters, taking refuge in a shaded overhang at the rear of the platform to await the arrival of Pier Paolo, the young man Signora Anna Mantegna had arranged to meet me.
The cloudless sky promised my first dry
