She’d come through the other side.
But she was never, ever going to get sucked into another relationship again. She’d learned that work and friendship were reliable; love and her judgement in men definitely weren’t.
* * *
‘We’re flying to Florence tomorrow, Mamma,’ Angelo said.
‘And do you think she will do the job?’ Lucrezia asked.
‘I hope so. She needs to see the paintings for herself before she’ll commit—which is fair.’
‘Maybe I should come back from Rome.’
Where she was staying with his sister and the new baby.
Baby, Angelo thought, and shoved the thought aside before it started trampling on a sore spot. ‘Don’t cut your visit short, Mamma,’ he said. He loved his mother dearly, but she had overdramatic tendencies—he rather thought she enjoyed playing up to the stereotypes of being Italian and being an opera singer—and the last thing he wanted was for his mother to scare Mariana off. ‘It’s fine. Nonno will have me to translate if he gets tired, and he has Lucia to look after him.’ The housekeeper, who kept everything on an even keel and kept an eye on Leo for Angelo.
‘Angelo. It breaks my heart seeing him fade and knowing I can do nothing to help.’ Her voice cracked. ‘Palliative care. O mio babbino caro.’
She was so upset that she was whispering the words rather than singing them as she usually would. Angelo dug his nails into his palms. He couldn’t fix this. Nobody could. But he was going to make sure his grandfather was happy before they lost him for ever. He was going to bring joy to Leo Moretti’s last days, whatever it took. ‘I know, Mamma. It’s hard.’
‘And you’re a good boy. So like your father. Roderick would be so proud of you.’
Angelo had followed in his father’s footsteps as far as his career was concerned, even joining the same legal firm. His marriage and the children he’d thought he’d have were a very different matter.
‘Would you have time to come and see us when you’re in Italy?’
He knew what his mother wasn’t saying. They all understood why he would find seeing the baby difficult. And he also knew he had to face it, for his sister’s sake. He had to put his family’s needs first instead of being selfish and trying to protect himself from having old scars ripped open. ‘If Mariana stays to do the photographs, I’ll come up to Rome for the afternoon. I’ll get the train.’
‘Try, Angelo. Cammie worries.’
His younger sister was far less dramatic, but he took the point. ‘I know, Mamma. And there is no need to worry. Everything is going to be just fine.’
He’d make sure it was.
CHAPTER TWO
‘MUM, YOU DON’T have to drop everything and come to Florence with me,’ Mariana protested. ‘I’ll be fine.’
‘You don’t know this man. He could be anyone,’ Carol Thackeray said, her mouth thinning. ‘And does your injunction even apply abroad?’
‘Mum.’ Mariana took both her mother’s hands. ‘I love you. And I’m not doing anything risky, I promise. The guy’s a partner in a really big firm of lawyers in the city—I met him at his office this afternoon and it’s all legit. He clearly loves his grandfather, who’s dying. Angelo is dropping everything to make him happy before the end, and I can understand that. I’m sure you can, too.’
‘Oh, darling. I know you miss your grandfather. I miss him, too. And, yes, of course I can understand. But this worries me.’ Carol frowned. ‘I can come with you.’
‘Mum, your idea of hell is being stuck indoors or being dragged round a dusty art gallery when there’s a garden outside with roses to be pruned and borders to weed,’ Mariana said with a smile. ‘You don’t have to do that. And I want to go. If I spend the rest of my life looking over my shoulder and worrying, that means Eric wins. I want to live my life as I want to, Mum. Independently. Well. The way I promised Grandad I would.’
Carol sighed. ‘Then I want you to text me. A lot.’
‘I will. And I’ll send photographs,’ Mariana promised.