Publisher's Synopsis
To Lizaveta, C?sar remained as much of an enigma after two years of their nomadic exile together as he had that first day in Clapham when he took up his peculiar vigil in her mother's kitchen and showed no signs of shifting out of her life, ever. Through her 16-year-old eyes she saw 35-year-old C?sar as old and slightly debauched but strikingly beautiful. His air of dissipated grandeur seemed to disarm almost everyone and she marvelled how even in London he was treated like some kind of protected species or listed building. 'My friends are waiting for a bullet,' C?sar told her, 'they don't shoot people like me'. From London the now indivisible foursome drift southwards from Paris to Milan and back - stopping in Bologna, Grenoble and Venice - wherever the slow train takes them.
