Actually
I do work quite hard, albeit in lovely surroundings. When I was writing Naughty
in Nice I spent several days in the main library looking through old postcards
and maps. After all streets and their names are always being changed in France.
Princess Grace Boulevard would not have existed at the time I write about. I
spent a fabulous morning at the hotel Negresco, wandering hallways and peering
around corners, with the blessing of the management who suddenly decided I
should be given free rein when I produced a card that said I was a bestselling
author. I took lots of pictures and wandered streets (and ate and drank local food and wine, of course. All part of the research of bringing a place to life!)
.
This
time in Stresa I was most interested in finding a villa and gardens that
matched the setting I wanted for Lady Georgie’s stay. I was fascinated by some
of the villas that must once have been grand and have now been allowed to fall
into ruins. (Tempted to buy one and restore it!) But I did see one lovely villa
that would fit the bill and then there were gardens at Villa Tarranto and on
the Isola Bella, both of which are incorporated into my Villa Gloriosa.
Also I
was interested in the details of the conference that took place in Stresa in 1935
between Italy, France and England, deciding what to do about the Nazi threat. Where
was it held? Who was there? I always like to bring real history into my stories
and this conference was a gift—right time, right place. Then there was the
train and steamer up to the Swiss part of the lake, as that also has to be part
of my story. Where might there have been a famous clinic in 1935? And of course
the Grand Hotel where Ernest Hemmingway stayed when he wrote “A Farewell to
Arms”. Surely there was a way to bring that into the story!
Above
all I try to get the feel of a place: when I sit in the little square and drink
coffee what do I see, hear, smell? It is deliciously cool in the shade of the
sycamore trees. Sound echoes from the surrounding alleyways. Italians in
conversation always sound as if they are about to break into a fight. And then
there is the weather: morning clouds draped over the mountains. Wisps of cloud
attached to the peaks like strands of sheep’s wool caught on a fence. The far
side of the lake swallowed into blackness during a storm. Weather is always
important in a story so I take pictures and make notes of every weather change.
When I
write a book my aim is to take my readers there, not tell them about it. If I’ve
experienced it then hopefully they will took.
Watch out for the book next year. It’s called “On Her Majesty’s
Frightfully Secret Service.”










