The Italian Girl

by Lucinda Riley

  ‘I’ll probably just have a sandwich upstairs in my room as I work . . .’ Abi saw Rosanna’s watchful eyes. ‘And yes, I will take the baby monitor with me.’

  ‘Where’s my other shoe?’ Rosanna was now on her knees, peering under the bed. She retrieved the black sandal with a look of triumph and removed a toy car from inside it. ‘Right, I’m ready. I’ll go downstairs and say goodbye to Luca and Nico.’

  ‘Fine.’

  Rosanna walked into the sitting room, where Nico was happily ensconced with Luca, looking at a picture book on his lap. ‘You don’t mind me going out, do you?’ she asked.

  ‘Not at all. It’s good that you’re going to support your friend. Nico and I will have a lovely time. We’ve got lots of books to read.’

  ‘Is she still at it? Dear God, anyone would think she was leaving Nico for a year.’ Abi rolled her eyes as she entered the sitting room. ‘The taxi’s just pulled up. Go, go, go!’ She shooed Rosanna out of the sitting room to the front door.

  ‘Bye, Luca. Bye, Nico. Bye—’

  Abi closed the front door and went back into the sitting room. She stood by the door, gazing at the two dark heads on the sofa. ‘Someone has got to tell Rosanna she’s far too overprotective of that child.’

  Luca glanced at her. ‘She has to be both mamma and papa to Nico, that’s why.’

  ‘Yes, I suppose so,’ Abi sighed. ‘Now, would you mind if I went up and did a little more work? I’ll come down in half an hour and make Nico’s bottle and put him to bed and—’

  ‘You go and write. I’ll put Nico to bed. I used to look after Rosanna all the time when she was small.’

  ‘If you’re sure . . .’

  ‘I am.’

  An hour later Abi looked into the nursery. Nico was tucked up in his cot sleeping soundly. She made her way downstairs to the kitchen.

  ‘Abi, just in time.’ Luca was standing by the hob stirring the contents of a frying pan. An appetising aroma filled the air.

  ‘Oh, I . . . well, I was just going to grab a sandwich and go back upstairs,’ she said uncertainly.

  Luca’s face fell. ‘But I’ve cooked you one of my specialities. Risotto, just as we used to eat in Milan.’

  ‘I . . .’

  ‘Please, Abi. Surely a couple of hours away from work will not harm? I’ve hardly seen you since I arrived. It would be nice to talk. Here.’ He handed her a glass of wine.

  Abi’s resolve shattered. ‘Okay then,’ she said, accepting the glass. ‘As you’ve already cooked.’

  ‘I’ve also set the table on the terrace. Go sit down and relax. I shall serve the risotto and join you.’

  A few minutes later, Luca put a steaming plate in front of her and sat down at the table opposite her.

  ‘This looks delicious,’ Abi commented.

  ‘It’s not often I get to cook these days. Please, begin. So,’ he said as he picked up his fork, ‘how is your new novel coming along?’

  ‘When I’m at this stage, I always think it’s rubbish. But it’ll turn out okay in the end, I’m sure.’

  ‘What is it about?’

  ‘Unrequited love.’ Despite herself, Abi blushed to the roots of her long blonde hair.

  ‘That’s an interesting topic,’ said Luca, throwing a searching glance in her direction.

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘And when is your first novel published?’

  ‘This September.’

  ‘I see. And writing is something that makes you happy?’

  ‘Very. Although it’s a terribly self-indulgent occupation, you know. You just put all your worst fears and your wildest fantasies together, stir them up and hope other people will find them interesting.’

  ‘I’m sure it is not that simple, but it sounds like fun. I must read your novel when it’s published.’

  ‘I don’t think it’s a book you’d like, to be honest, Luca,’ she said guardedly.

  ‘Why is that?’

  ‘Well, parts of it are a bit . . . fruity.’

  Luca looked confused. ‘What is “fruity”?’

  ‘I mean, there’s quite a lot of sex in it.’ Abi blushed again.

  Luca chuckled. ‘And you feel that wouldn’t be suitable reading for someone training to become a priest?’

  ‘No, not really.’

  ‘Don’t think, Abi, that because I want to be a priest that I’m not human. As a man, I have feelings just as any other. And don’t think I haven’t thought about you over the past few years. I have, often.’ He smiled, taking a forkful of risotto before continuing. ‘And now is the moment to ask if you’ll forgive me. I was weak and selfish that time in Milan. I let the feelings I had for you run away with me, when I knew deep down that nothing could come of it.’

  Abi’s heart sank. Just for a second she had glimpsed some hope.

  ‘You shouldn’t be so hard on yourself, Luca. I should apologise too for trying to force your hand, when I ought to have respected that your life was destined for a different course. The amount of time you used to spend in that old church should have been a clue for starters.’ She tried to sound cheerful and hoped he couldn’t read her inner feelings on her face. ‘Do you mind if I smoke?’ She fumbled in her pocket for her cigarettes and a light.

  ‘No, not at all.’ Luca put his knife and fork neatly together on his plate.

  ‘So, how’s life at the seminary?’

  Luca stared at her. ‘Can you keep a secret?’

  ‘Of course.’

  ‘You mustn’t tell Rosanna of this. I don’t wish anyone in my family to know.’

  ‘About what?’

  ‘I’m on a sabbatical. I’m taking time out to think about my future.’

  ‘You mean, you’re thinking of leaving the seminary?’ Abi’s blue eyes were wide with surprise.

  ‘No, I didn’t say that, but I’m having a spiritual crisis – or that’s what my bishop calls it, at least. Apparently, it happens to many young men in their last stage of training. After the euphoria of a decision and then the years of study, well, then comes the uncertainty.’

  ‘I see.’ Abi was listening intently.

  ‘I believe I was put on this earth to do God’s work. I wish to give comfort to those in trouble, those who are poor or suffering, and also to spread the word of God to people who haven’t heard it.’

  ‘But surely that’s what you will be doing when you become a priest?’

  ‘Yes, but . . .’ Luca sighed. ‘The church is like a club and the priests are the members. And, as in any club, there are rules that are laid down, rules that sometimes prevent you from doing things you know would be a good idea. Also, as in any organisation, even God’s, there are power struggles, people who see the church as a career and will stop at nothing to reach the top. And, of course, there is corruption.’ Luca paused then said, ‘May I have one of your cigarettes?’

  ‘I didn’t think you smoked anymore.’

  ‘Only very occasionally. I suppose seeing you reminds me of the old days,’ he said, smiling, as he took one from the packet and Abi lit it for him.

  ‘Well, I’m amazed by what you say. I thought the priesthood was your calling, all you wanted.’

  ‘It was, it is, in an ideal world. But this world is not ideal, because it’s made up of human beings. Like the Lord himself, we’re not perfect. Anyway, that’s why I’ve been given a little time to think, before I take the ultimate step and am ordained. You see, Abi, unlike others, I’m not interested in rising through the ranks. It would only move me further away from what I want to do. I don’t want to be fifty and sitting behind a desk in the Vatican. I want to be out in the world helping people. I’m sorry, I’m boring you.’

  ‘No, not at all. It’s fascinating,’ said Abi honestly.

  ‘Well, thank you for listening. I needed very much to talk and you’ve always had a sympathetic ear.’

  ‘Anytime, Luca. You know that.’

  ‘And what of you, Abi?’ said Luca, pouring himself another glass of wine. ‘Are you h
appy?’

  ‘I always try to make the best of things, even when they’re not perfect. The eternal optimist, that’s me,’ she shrugged.

  ‘And have you found someone to fall in love with?’

  ‘Well, I’ve had a few boyfriends and a lot of fun. But I’ve decided recently I’m not the marrying type, that love brings too much pain. Unlike you, I’m totally selfish, you see.’

  ‘I don’t think so at all. You’ve been a very good friend to both me and my sister.’ He leant towards her. ‘How is Rosanna, really?’

  ‘Very brave, very strong, a very good mother and . . .’ Abi sighed, ‘a very talented actress. Underneath it all, I’m sad to say, she’s still completely in love with that feckless husband of hers.’

  ‘Yes, I can believe that. I watched my sister fall in love with Roberto when she was eleven years old.’

  ‘There’s a fine line between love and hate. Maybe, one day,’ Abi said hopefully, ‘Rosanna will hate him.’

  ‘And maybe that will be as bad as loving him.’ Luca shook his head wearily. ‘Fate is a strange thing. I believe very strongly that certain things are preordained by God before we take our first breath. I knew from the outset that Roberto Rossini would be trouble for Rosanna. If there was one man in the world who I prayed many times would never come near her, it was him. I know of things he’s done, have seen things that . . .’ Luca’s voice had become fierce with emotion. ‘I’m sorry, Abi. I find it hard, loving my sister, knowing she loves Roberto and being unable to protect her from the pain of it. But that, as I said, is fate, is it not?’

  ‘Yes. And anyway, they haven’t spoken for over a year. Plus, you may be pleased to hear she has an admirer: Stephen, that chap she’s out with tonight. He absolutely worships Rosanna, although I’m not sure how she feels about him.’

  ‘That at least is good,’ agreed Luca. ‘Does she ever talk about returning to opera?’

  ‘Not so far, no.’

  He shook his head. ‘Roberto even managed to take that from her, to separate her from her gift. A talent such as hers is so very rare and yet she no longer seems to recognise or value it.’

  ‘I know, I know. But one day when Nico is older, she may return. She’s still very young. And Stephen would encourage her if the two of them ever got together. He’s her biggest fan.’

  ‘This Stephen sounds almost too perfect,’ smiled Luca.

  ‘I agree. There must be something wrong with him,’ giggled Abi.

  ‘Maybe it’s simply that Rosanna will never fully appreciate his qualities,’ Luca shrugged.

  ‘Probably. Anyway, shall I make some coffee?’

  ‘Yes, that would be nice.’

  Abi stood and began to clear the table. As she reached for Luca’s plate, he touched her gently on her arm.

  ‘Thank you again for listening, Abi. You are a very good friend with a very good heart.’

  Abi carried the plates into the kitchen. She filled the jug with water, poured it into the coffee machine and switched it on, mulling over what he’d told her and how it had altered her situation. If he really was uncertain about the priesthood, then surely . . .

  ‘Oh, what the hell,’ she said under her breath as she watched the coffee drip into the jug. ‘It might be the end of you, Abi, but you only live once.’

  As the last guest left the gallery, Stephen locked the door behind him and breathed a sigh of relief.

  Rosanna was smiling at him. ‘That was a great success, wasn’t it?’

  ‘Yes. Twelve paintings reserved out of fifteen. I’m going to have to get the artists to paint some more – fast.’

  ‘You were brilliant.’ She sat down in a chair. ‘You were so nice to everyone, even when they argued about the price.’

  ‘Customer relations is a big part of my job. More wine?’ Stephen took a bottle standing on his desk and filled Rosanna’s glass.

  ‘Thank you. To you, Stephen, and the gallery.’

  ‘Yes, to me. And to you for coming and being so supportive.’

  ‘It was the least I could do. I enjoyed it.’

  ‘Did you?’

  ‘Yes. It was nice to go out, although I did find it quite stressful at first,’ she admitted. ‘I’m not used to making small talk these days.’

  ‘Rosanna, everyone thought you were delightful. You know, someone even asked me if you were my wife.’ Stephen glanced at her sideways.

  ‘Did they? I . . .’ She abruptly put down her glass and stood up. ‘I ought to be getting back now. Abi and Luca will be wondering where I am.’

  ‘Of course. I’ll take you home.’

  ‘No, I can call a taxi.’

  ‘Don’t be silly, Rosanna. Come on.’

  They left the gallery and walked along the narrow streets towards his car.

  Rosanna was silent on the journey home, feeling guilty for her knee-jerk reaction to his innocent comment. As Stephen pulled the car into the drive, she turned towards him.

  ‘Would you like to come to lunch on Sunday and meet my brother?’

  ‘I’d love to,’ he replied.

  ‘Good. About one then?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Thank you for a lovely evening. Goodnight, Stephen.’ Rosanna pecked him on the cheek and got out of the car.

  36

  ‘Stephen,’ said Rosanna, ‘this is my brother, Luca.’

  ‘How do you do?’ Stephen smiled warmly as the two men shook hands.

  ‘Drinks, everyone.’ Abi brought a tray with a jug of Pimms and glasses out onto the terrace. She put the tray down and poured out four glasses. ‘Cheers,’ she said, taking a sip.

  ‘So, Stephen, Rosanna tells me you run an art gallery nearby,’ said Luca.

  ‘Yes, in Cheltenham. I decided to go it alone a few months ago. And so far, the gamble’s paying off. And I much prefer working here to the grime of London. It’s also an interesting challenge finding modern artists. I used to work at Sotheby’s, helping the team there authenticate and value Renaissance works.’

  ‘That sounds very interesting, Stephen. I’d love to learn more about the art world,’ Luca encouraged, but at that moment they were interrupted by Abi, who was brandishing a pair of tongs.

  ‘Right, I’d better get on with the barbeque. I’m warning you, I’m useless and I burn everything,’ she laughed as she made her way along the terrace. ‘Luca, can you bring out the meat? I’ll be ready to blacken everything in a few seconds.’

  ‘Of course.’

  ‘And I’d better go and fetch Nico from his cot,’ said Rosanna as she followed her brother into the house.

  Ten minutes later, Rosanna appeared on the terrace with Nico, who was crying. ‘I’m afraid he’s always a little grumpy after his rest, aren’t you, darling?’

  ‘Hello, little chap,’ said Stephen.

  Nico immediately stopped crying and stretched out his arms to him.

  ‘I see,’ nodded Abi, waving the tongs in the air. ‘We all know who’s flavour of the month, don’t we?’ She winked pointedly at Luca as Stephen and Nico set off hand in hand towards a playhouse Rosanna had bought him.

  ‘Babies are always the best judges of character,’ said Luca, winking back.

  ‘Would you mind helping me out here?’ asked Abi, her face flushed from the heat of the barbeque. Luca did so and the two of them watched surreptitiously as Rosanna joined Stephen and her son.

  ‘They do go well together, don’t they?’ said Abi.

  ‘Stephen seems a nice man, but let’s not push too hard. I know Rosanna of old and so do you. For all her sweetness, she’s also stubborn as a mule. It might be better if we disapproved,’ Luca replied as he forked the cooked sausages onto a plate.

  ‘Lunch is ready,’ called Abi and a few minutes later they all sat down to eat.

  Afterwards, Stephen and Rosanna took Nico off for a walk to see the ducks on the village pond and Luca and Abi were left lying side by side on the picnic rug.

  ‘God, if only life could always be as lovely as today
,’ she sighed. She rolled onto her front, picked a piece of grass and chewed it thoughtfully, staring across at Luca. ‘Are you asleep?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘I feel high on Pimms, sun and happiness,’ she remarked. ‘Oh, I do love you, Luca.’ She leant across and kissed him lightly on the lips. He didn’t respond, but he didn’t stop her either.

  ‘Did you hear me?’ she asked gently. ‘I love you. I’m a little drunk so I don’t actually care that I’ve said it.’

  Luca’s eyes opened. Abi bent to kiss him again and felt his arm travel tentatively up her back. Then a small tornado hurtled towards them and threw itself on top of them.

  ‘Nico, you little monster!’ Luca rolled away from Abi and began to tickle his nephew, who giggled delightedly.

  Abi sat up abruptly and saw that, thankfully, Rosanna and Stephen were still some distance away on the terrace.

  ‘Dinner sometime next week?’ Stephen asked Rosanna as they made their way slowly across the lawn towards the pile of bodies on the rug.

  ‘If Abi and Luca will babysit.’

  ‘I’m sure they’d be glad to. They seem very fond of each other.’

  ‘They are, and it’s lovely to see them enjoying each other’s company and renewing their friendship.’

  ‘Of course,’ Stephen nodded, deciding not to comment further on what he had seen happen between them a few minutes earlier.

  Rosanna went upstairs to her bedroom early that night. She wanted to think about Stephen and what he meant to her. There was no point pretending anymore. In his gentle way, Stephen had made it perfectly clear to her that he wanted more from her than a friendship. Asking her out for dinner was a different thing altogether from passing a few pleasant daytime hours with Nico in tow.

  She lay in bed trying to imagine what it would be like to have his hands touch her, make love to her . . . and rolled over in frustration. She knew she could never love Stephen in the way she had loved Roberto, but then, maybe she couldn’t feel for anyone that way. She didn’t want to hurt him, to make him believe she could feel something she couldn’t, but neither did she want to lose him: she and Nico would miss him terribly. Maybe she needed more time, maybe the love would grow . . .