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Charlie owned a 1920's Alfa Romeo car and when he drove into the hotel in Quebec one misty November, he could only echo his late papa's cry of 'bravo'. Feeling like an 'Oscar' winner he pulled up at the entrance. Mike and Victor, his best friends, had flown in from Lima and were waiting for him on the steps. Although a 'Yankee' through and through, Mike never forgot that his family hailed originally from the delta area of Sierra in southern India and was wearing a very tasteful uniform style golf jacket in the Bengali colours of green and orange. Victor was casually dressed in slacks and shirt, and, although a kilo or two heavier these days, always looked smart. Very soon they were enjoying a whiskey in the bar and Charlie could not wait to tell them about his new fiancé Juliette, a nurse he had met when having an x-ray on his ankle. Although not a great dancer, Charlie could manage a foxtrot, but when it came to an energetic tango, he had gone over on his ankle, not very romantic but Charlie had been smitten immediately by Juliette's dark eyes and gorgeous smile.