Aunt Amy was a great hostess. Christmas at her villa was a splendid affair with the whole family plus guests seated around an impressively dressed table. Helpers served the meal which consisted of the usual turkey and ham plus the soups, macaroni Champagne and lovely flaming puddings.
Knowing and having experienced all of this, I was well prepared when I was invited to the house one summer to welcome back my cousin and her friends from finishing school abroad.
Lots of familiar faces were there and everything was proving very enjoyable. It was all very relaxed, and I felt extremely at ease.
One of the young guests from Italy seemed to enjoy my company and I felt flattered by her attention. Knowing that one of the guests was a French princess, I assumed this young lady probably came of equally good stock. As we became more at ease in each other’s company, I brazenly said, “I don’t want to know who you are. I shall call you Natasha as I think the name suits you.” She was staying with a friend who lived close to where I lived in Sliema.
In the following days we went swimming together nearly every day at the Union Club beach and very often would drop in at my sister Irene’s house for a snack or late breakfast.
On one of these occasions, Irene said to me, “have you seen the jewellry and the clothes she wears for the beach?”
I was so aware of my flip-flops and shorts that I hardly noticed anything different about what she was wearing. I did notice she wore some jewellery and always looked well turned out.
We became friendly and I enjoyed her company and we went out together quite often.
The day before she left to go back to Italy, she looked at me quite hurt and said, “don’t you want to know who I really am?” and handed me a card which said ‘Idanna Pucci di Barsento, Via Pucci, Palazzo Pucci, Firenze.” I found out she was of the same family as the great fashion designer, Emilio Pucci and belonged to an aristocratic family with a long-distinguished history.