Tears of Autumn, The by David Wiltshire

Vesuvius turning a hazy purple in the humidity.
    Far off, in the slate-blue waters the grey shape of a cruiser, its menacing form somewhat softened by bunting was slipping towards Naples dockyard, shadowed by two destroyers.
    Nearer, the paddle steamer was coming back from Capri, its two red funnels billowing black smoke, its white wake curving away as it turned in from its journey up the coast. And everywhere were the red and white sails of the local fishermen.
    Beneath him the harbour was full of pleasure boats and crowds of excited chattering families walking up the hill into the town.
    He finished his Craven A, stood up and went back into the room through the open french doors. Rosemary was at the dressing-table in her petticoat, using a powder puff on her creamy white shoulders.
    ‘Ah, just in time to help me with my frock.’
    She stood up and went to the massive wardrobe, her image flashing in the mirror on the door as she opened it. She took out a full-length dress, slipped the material off the padded hanger and stepped into it, pulling it up and pushing her arms through the sleeves.
    ‘Fix it for me, darling.’
    When he’d done so she turned around, eyes gleaming.
    ‘Do you like it?’
    The shot-silk peacock-blue material shimmered in the light, fitting her tightly until, just at the knees, it flared gently out.
    The neckline was folded and swagged from shoulder to shoulder. Her blonde, straight hair was combed to one side, held by a diamond clip, with matching pendant earrings.
    He shook his head in wonderment.
    ‘You look magnificent.’
    She beamed. ‘Thank you.’ She gave him a suggestive look. ‘Flattery will get you everywhere – later.’
    It didn’t take him long to change. He did his black tie up and drew on his dinner jacket, checking for his gunmetal cigarette case and wallet. He called out ‘Right, ready.’
    Rosemary gave a last puff of scent to her neck, picked up her beaded evening bag and joined him at the door.
    When they entered the bar they saw Konrad and Anna by the white grand piano. The black pianist was playing and singing in his soft tenor voice.
    They made their way over. Konrad looked up, caught sight of them first.
    He was also in a dinner jacket, his blond hair contrasting with the blackness of his suit. Anna was in a white silk dress with a high neckline and padded shoulders. At the waist she had a tied belt of the same material, with two long tassels. The dress flowed straight to the floor. Her dark hair had been pulled back into a chignon, and a thick diamond bracelet caught the light as she waved.
    Konrad exclaimed when he saw Rosemary: ‘My God, you are beautiful.’
    Biff looked Anna up and down, and thought he’d never seen a more stunningly elegant woman in his life, but just said: ‘And so are you.’
    She smiled and nodded. ‘Thank you.’
    ‘Let’s celebrate our beautiful ladies with champagne.’
    Konrad turned to the counter and ordered a bottle. Later, as they made towards a table Biff suddenly saw that there was no back to Anna’s dress at all – she was naked from her waist to the ribbon at the nape of her neck. It was very daring.
    Rosemary saw it at the same time.
    ‘Anna, what an incredible dress.’
    ‘Do you like it? I got it in Paris last year.’
    The girls talked of fashion as they settled themselves into the chairs in the garden room. Anna set her bag on to her lap and got out her cigarettes, offering them to Rosemary. ‘Would you like one?’
    ‘Turkish? Would you mind if I don’t? Too strong for me.’
    Biff took one instead as Rosemary found her Marcovitch Black and Whites.
    Anna pushed her cigarette into a small ebony-and-silver holder. Konrad produced his lighter. When the flame reached Biff and he was alight he said: ‘Thanks.’ He nodded at the lighter. ‘That’s very nice.’
    Handing it to him, Konrad agreed.
    ‘Yes, it was given to me by my father when I entered the cadet school.’
    It was made of gun metal, like his case,