‘Carulli and Alice fell in love,’ Angelo said, ‘and by September it was clear that Alice was pregnant. But Carulli was already married, with two small children and a baby, so he couldn’t marry her.’
‘He wrote to his brother that he had to leave England under a cloud,’ Mariana said. ‘We think that’s when Alice’s parents found out she was pregnant. Alice’s father insisted that Alice had to marry Robert Reynolds, the tenant farmer who lived at Manor Farm.’
‘The house in my painting,’ Leo said.
‘Exactly. We think Charles gave him the farm for marrying Alice and saving her from scandal,’ Angelo said. ‘Except it wasn’t a loveless marriage. From what we can see in Harriet’s diary, Alice taught Robert to read, and she had baby Thomas in 1864. We know from Robert’s four-times great-granddaughter that they both died at the farm from old age and Thomas inherited the farm, and from Alice’s family on the other side that there’s a beautiful memorial to her in the church.’
‘We’ve got a photograph of Alice—a carte de visite—from 1861, and one of Robert. That came from the Fisher side of the family,’ Mariana said. ‘Alice’s family died in the 1918 flu epidemic, and the branch who inherited it and met you when they found the painting, Leo, kept all the paperwork. That’s how we know about Harriet’s diary. Jocelyn made a copy for us and we’ve done one for you, Leo.’
‘So why was the painting in the attic?’ Camilla asked.
‘Our theory is that Carulli accidentally left it behind when he went back to Italy, and the Fishers found it in his cottage. They recognised their daughter but they couldn’t have the painting on show because it was a reminder of the man who painted it—the man who brought shame on them,’ Angelo said. ‘But they loved Alice and it was a good painting, so they couldn’t bring themselves to throw it away.’
‘My guess is that Harriet hid the painting in the attic, and didn’t tell anyone about it. When she died, nobody knew it was there, and it stayed hidden in the attic until there was a leak in the roof and the attic had to be emptied so it could be fixed,’ Mariana said.
‘Which is when it got eaten by the mice and you saw it, Babbo,’ Lucrezia said. ‘Yes, it all makes sense.’
‘So is it going to be in your programme, Mariana?’ Leo asked.
‘Absolutely. And I think when you set up your gallery, we could do a display about the story behind the painting, with copies of the photographs and Harriet’s diary, plus the studies we found of Alice and the farmhouse,’ Mariana said.
‘But did Carulli ever acknowledge the baby?’ Camilla asked. ‘It seems so heartless just to—well, walk away and abandon Alice like that.’
‘He didn’t have a choice,’ Mariana said. ‘But I’m hoping there might be something more in Jocelyn’s archives, another diary entry perhaps or a letter. She’s promised to let us know if she finds anything, and Angelo and I are going to check through the archives for the later letters Carulli wrote.’
‘So we have definite proof, Nonno, that you were right about the painting all along,’ Angelo said.
‘My Girl,’ Leo said, smiling.
Later that evening, Angelo and Mariana went for a stroll down to the Ponte Vecchio; they stood under the arches in the centre of the bridge, watching the sky streaked with pink and orange and gold reflected in the water.
‘So we found the truth about Nonno’s painting—and now he knows. He’s happy,’ Angelo said. ‘Thank you.’
‘It was my job,’ Mariana said. ‘Though I should tell you now that I’m not accepting payment for it.’
He coughed. ‘You’re under contract. You have to accept payment.’
‘Maybe I’ll lose the paperwork.’
‘Maybe I have copies.’
She grinned. ‘Knowing you, it’ll be in triplicate and filed away neatly. I don’t care. You’re not paying me for this, Angelo.’
‘There’s only one way I’ll agree to that,’ he said softly. ‘And that’s if you do it for love. As part of my family.’