by Susan Lewis
‘I’m sure,’ Kirsten responded, stroking her face, and thinking, Lainey imagined, of the day, not too far distant, when Julia would be saying goodbye to her.
‘Daddy carried the coffin,’ Julia announced.
Kirsten smiled at Tom. ‘That’s because he’s big and strong,’ she said teasingly.
‘That’ll be me,’ Tom agreed, looking round at the sound of voices as everyone starting arriving.
‘Are you sure you’re up for this?’ Lainey asked Kirsten.
‘I’ve put myself on a table close to the exit,’ Kirsten assured her, ‘so I can slip away at any time.’
Knowing that a part of Kirsten was actually looking forward to this potentially last opportunity to see some people from her own past, Lainey squeezed her hand and went to join Tom, who was greeting Nadia.
Though it took a while for everyone to assemble, the atmosphere was becoming almost light-hearted as long-time friends caught up with one another, and extended family joined in playing host. It was exactly, Lainey was thinking, as she watched the children mingle with trays and drinks, how her father would have wanted it to be. No more tears, only laughter as old stories were retold and new ones took their place. She could almost see him standing in the middle of it all, the catalyst between past and future, loving the fact that busy lives had been put on hold for a day, allowing everyone he cared about to remember why they cared about each other.
‘Mum, I’ve got something to tell you,’ Tierney announced in a whisper.
‘Do I want to hear it now?’ Lainey asked, also in a whisper.
‘Yes. Definitely. I’ve decided that when I go to uni I want to study to become the kind of doctor, or nurse, that takes care of people like Julia.’
Lainey’s eyes widened with surprise, but as she turned to make sure Tierney wasn’t teasing her Tierney slipped back into the crowd.
Just wait till she told Tom this astonishing – and perhaps unreliable – piece of news.
Spotting Stacy sitting with Kirsten, she knew without asking what they were discussing: the article Stacy was going to run in her new magazine, to be written jointly by Kirsten and Lainey, that would reveal Tom as the father of Kirsten’s child.
Deciding she might like to join them, she started on her way but was waylaid by Marco and Adriana.
‘Your father was clearly very well loved,’ Marco commented as he gave her a hug. ‘It pleases me a lot to see this after what you learned about your family in Italy.’
‘But you have us now,’ Adriana reminded her. ‘You are welcome always in our home, please to know that.’
‘Thank you,’ Lainey smiled, keeping hold of Marco’s hand as she felt a renewed gratitude for how much easier he had made that terrible time. His own marriage was working out fine now, apparently, though she could tell by the haunted look at the back of his eyes that the trust still hadn’t fully returned.
‘Have you decided what you want to do about Aldo?’ Adriana asked, replacing her glass on a passing tray.
Since Melvina had died, a month ago, Lainey had felt a stronger desire to meet her grandfather than she had before, provided he wanted to meet her, of course. ‘We’re hoping to go and see him in the new year,’ she replied, leaning against Tom as he came to slip an arm around her. ‘You never know,’ she said, ‘he might be happy to find himself with a family again, even if it is ours.’
‘I think he will,’ Adriana assured her. ‘From everything Carlotta tells us he is a lonely man, and perhaps in need of knowing that Alessandra’s life became a good one – and that her daughter has grown up safely.’
Not until they were able to steal a moment alone did Lainey say to Tom, ‘Am I safe?’
He gave it some thought. ‘Only because all these people are around,’ he decided.
She gurgled on a laugh, and linked his arm as they headed towards Kirsten and Stacy. ‘Well, at least we know one thing for certain,’ she said, looking around her.
‘We do? What’s that?’
‘That whether you love me or not you’re doing your level best to keep me tied to you, the kitchen sink and your very many children.’
Turning her to him, he asked, ‘Are you sure you don’t mind?’
‘About being pregnant? Why would I mind, when I’ve always said being a wife and mother is what I do best?’
‘No.’ Tom shook his head. ‘What you do best is shame me for not being able to tell you how much I love you.’
‘Ah, but you’re pretty good at showing me.’
With a waggle of his eyebrows, he said, ‘I like to think so. In fact, I could tell you too, if you like.’
Intrigued, she said, ‘Go on then.’
‘OK. I love you, Lainey Hollingsworth.’
She frowned. ‘Is that it?’
‘I told you it wouldn’t be enough.’
Funnily enough, it didn’t seem to be.
‘I could shout it so everyone can hear,’ he offered.
At that, her eyes sparked with mischief. ‘Go on then,’ she challenged, knowing full well that he’d expected her to back away from the very idea.
To her surprise he took a breath, but before he could get the first word out she clapped a hand over his mouth. ‘It’s OK, I believe you,’ she muttered, smiling at those nearby.
He gave her a quizzical look. ‘Are you sure, because I don’t have a problem with everyone knowing it?’
‘I’m hoping we can assume they already do. Anyway, I prefer it when you show me.’
‘Aha.’ His eyes narrowed with interest. ‘I can do that, except maybe not right now.’
Loving the way this was going, she said, ‘OK. Then what are you doing later?’
‘You know, I wasn’t sure before,’ he smiled, tilting her mouth to his, ‘but I am now.’
‘And?’
‘I’m going to start a new book, all about how much I love my very beautiful wife.’
Acknowledgements
An enormous thank you to my lovely friend Carlo Cocuzzi who helped so patiently and tirelessly with the Italian translations. Any mistakes (and hopefully there are none) will be completely down to me. I’d also like to thank my good friend Ruth Kelham for introducing me to Stroud.
Last, but by no means least, I’d like to thank my wonderful stepsons Michael and Luke for providing so much inspiration and entertainment while we were in Italy researching the book.
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Copyright © Susan Lewis 2013
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This book is a work of fiction. Names and characters are the product of the author’s imagination and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental
First published in Great Britain in 2013 by
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