The Savage Garden

lowered her eyes. 'Benedetto was a good man. I have not had a bad life.'

    'Did he know?'

    'No one did, not even Crispin. I never told him.'

    'You never told him?'

    She hesitated. 'I think it would have destroyed him. I had just got married when . . . well, when it happened. He was very upset. Ashamed. He liked Benedetto a lot. When Emilio was killed, I wrote him a letter. I tore it up. What good would it have done?'

    She drew a long breath. 'There, now you know, you have your answer.'

    Adam could think of nothing to say.

    'How did you guess?' she asked.

    He told her about the family photo in the album and about Gregor Mendel and his gene theory of earlobes.

    She nodded, impressed. 'I didn't know that,' she said, 'but I'm surprised Benedetto didn't.'

    'Maybe he did.'

    'If he did, he never told me.'

    But maybe he told someone else, Maurizio for example. Maybe Maurizio knew that Emilio was not his true brother.

    Signora Docci held out her hand. Adam walked over and took it.

    'Don't go,' she said. 'I would like you to stay.'

    He should have been relieved—and he was—but there was also a nagging voice in his head telling him to finish packing the suitcases on the bed, to leave Villa Docci far behind him while he still could.

    'Are you punishing me now?' she asked, misinterpreting his silence.

    'No.'

    'I'm sorry; I should not have asked you to go away. I was shocked by your question.'

    'And I shouldn't have asked it.'

    She took his words as an apology when really they were a reprimand to himself.

    Do you have everything you need, Signora?

    Yes, thank you, Maria. You don't have to tuck me in, I'm not a child.

    You've been crying.

    It's nothing. Memories. Sentimentality. And you know how I hate sentimentality. Is Harry back from Florence yet?

    Not yet.

    I hope he's all right.

    I don't think you have to worry about that.

    No. He's very eccentric, isn't he?

    He's too familiar.

    You mean he's not afraid of you.

    If you say so, Signora.

    Oh I do, Maria, I do. And I think you quite like that.

    I've had an idea.

    Don't change the subject just when I'm beginning to enjoy myself.

    They will both need evening wear for the party.

    Harry's staying for the party?

    That's what he told me at breakfast.

    Oh, you had breakfast together, did you?

    I was thinking that I could unpack Emilio's suits.

    If the moths haven't had them.

    I've checked. They haven't.

    The legs will need to be taken up.

    Not for Adam. A few centimeters for Harry. I'll see to it.

    Yes, do that. Good night, Maria.

    Good night, Signora.