Free True by Michael Cordy Page B

contained the last vestiges of her life with the man she had travelled to Italy to marry. She walked past them into the lounge. Giovanna had changed everything in here, too. Like a dog marking its territory, she had stamped her identity on every square inch, using her money to eradicate all trace of Isabella -- and even Leo -- from the apartment. All the old furniture, including the huge sagging couch, which Isabella had disliked but Leo had loved, was gone. In its place a matching symphony of bland but unquestionably expensive neutral rugs and cream leather furniture had appeared. Isabella hated it.
    Her eyes went to the smart Denon DVD player in the corner. Why hadn't Giovanna put that into a box for her to take away? Probably because it suited the new decor, she thought. Isabella had bought it to watch her beloved classic movies a month before Leo had dropped the bombshell that he was going back to his childhood sweetheart. 'I have to, Izzy. You must understand. She needs me more than you do.'
    On the mantelpiece there was a picture of Leo with Giovanna. She and Giovanna were so different that Isabella felt a twinge of insecurity. While she was dark and athletic, with strong, asymmetrical features and a lopsided smile, Giovanna was fair and petite with a pretty button nose. And while Isabella was committed to her work, Giovanna wasn't afraid to express her need. Another factor, Isabella understood now, was that Giovanna's wealthy father was an influential judge who had promised to aid Leo's legal career. Isabella's father was a brilliant but eccentric scientist, who had spent all of his savings on trying to convince the world of his genius.
    Thinking of her father cheered Isabella. His engagement to the independent Maria proved that, when it came to love, anything was possible.
    Wandering through the lounge, she contemplated whether to take the DVD player. She was the movie buff. Leo didn't even have any DVDs. The shelves were empty, except for one or two ornaments. Even the few leather-bound books looked brand new and unread. Three glossy magazines, again untouched, lay on the coffee table, Vogue at the top. The face on the cover made Isabella smile, especially when she read the caption: 'The Billion Dollar Face: Is Phoebe the Face of the Millennium?'
    In the corner was an elegant wooden filing cabinet. She opened it and was surprised to see reams of catalogues for curtain, wallpaper and upholstery fabrics, all indexed alphabetically. Everything was so organized, so perfect, that she felt a second rush of insecurity. Was this another reason why Leo had chosen Giovanna over her?
    Beep, beep.
    The sound of the car horn made her check her watch. Leo had said they wouldn't be back until six and the last thing she wanted was to see him or Giovanna. She moved to the large window overlooking the street and the distant spires of the Duomo. Two huge hoardings faced her from the opposite apartment block. One advertised a car, the other fashion. The tag-line, 'Pure Valkyrie by Odin', was written across the bottom of the fashion advertisement and the face on the Vogue cover smiled out at her.
    Beep, beep.
    She looked down and was relieved to see Phoebe sitting in her silver open-top Mercedes. Her long blonde hair hung loose to her shoulders and she wore dark glasses, but her cheekbones made her instantly recognizable as the model in the vast poster and on the magazine's cover.
    Isabella opened the window and shouted down, 'The door's open - come on up.' Phoebe waved and stepped out of the car, oblivious to the double-takes of passers-by as she walked beneath the huge poster towards the entrance. She had been such a good friend for so long that Isabella sometimes forgot how famous Phoebe was. Today, as always, she looked stunning": six feet tall, blonde and dressed from head to toe in Odin - or whatever top designer she was currently modelling.
    Isabella's sadness evaporated when Phoebe breezed in, hugged her, and shook her head in