Sorry, darling, you know how it is – showbiz.” Archie Fisher’s words echoed in May Maxwell’s ears as she peered through the wrought iron railings bordering the manicured gardens of the Villa Lombardi. There was no-one around. She wasn’t even sure she was in the right place. The late morning sun beat down on her back and she was glad she had chosen to wear her biggest straw hat. Her flimsy sundress afforded little protection against the fierce Mediterranean sun and she could feel her skin prickling in protest.
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