Chapter 25

This is the last kind of place I’d have thought you’d choose,’ said Theodore slowly.

Pamela looked up from the laminated menu, which she already knew by heart, and stared at the hawk-like beauty of the Prince’s autocratic features. ‘You don’t like it?’

He looked around. It was noisy, warm and cluttered. Lighted candles dripped wax down the sides of old Chianti bottles, posters of Venice and Florence vied for wall-space with photos of Siena’s football team, and popular opera played softly in the background. He could remember eating somewhere like this years ago as a student, at the end of a rowdy rugby tour. But never since then. ‘It’s … different,’ he observed. ‘Not the kind of place I normally eat in. I thought you might have chosen somewhere …’

‘Yes?’ Pamela raised her eyebrows.

‘Somewhere a little more upmarket. The kind of place you’d always wanted to go but never had the chance.’

Pamela put the menu down. ‘You mean somewhere like the Green Room at the Granchester? Or the River Te