There was some kind of electricity between us in the car as we drove along the lakeside road. with heavy rain hiding both the lake and mountains. It made the world inside the car even stranger and more cut off from everything else. I asked her about the house we were going to she'd not said much when we'd made the arrangements, just that it would be cold at night and to bring warm clothes and walking boots. It had, she said. belonged to her great-grandparents first. Her parents had lived there when they were first married, but now it was just a place to escape to at weekends
She and her brother had stopped going there much in the last few years. Theyd wanted to travel and see other places. Como and Magregio were not all there was. She laughed. I loved her laugh, so natural and free. An hour later we were there, parking the car under the trees and walking up the wet path past the vegetable garden, in the rain, up to the house. It was very dark inside Where are your parents?' I asked In Como, she replied. "Why? Well, I thought theyd be here, doing weekend gardening and things I answeied, still rather surprised. The old family house, she'd said, and d thought the family would be there She turned round, very slowly, and walked over to stand