Deirdre is seething in silence. She throws a baleful look at David, who is now busy chatting with the head caretaker of the villa, Signora Agnese. They are seated in the small dining area, probably the one reserved for the staff, eating dinner with the caretaker and the cook who happens to be Signora Agnese’s husband, a quiet man who smiles shyly as he offers her more homemade garlic bread. “Grazie,” She thanks him, trying to muster a genuine smile for his kindness. She glances at David again. He is frowning as he listens to Signora Agnese, quite absorbed with what the caretaker is telling him in Italian so passionately and Deirdre really can’t understand a thing. Unfortunately, the couple knows very little English language so there’s nothing to do but wait for any miserable bit of tra

