his childhood. Now she looked at Baptista and wondered if his foster mother really would hate him if she knew the truth. Somehow Angie couldn’t imagine it of that great and generous woman, but how would she react to the discovery that her husband had died needlessly?
Once Baptista had said, ‘I can only guess at his deepest secret, and I may be wrong.’ For a fleeting moment Angie was tempted to speak out, but then she knew she mustn’t. Bernardo had spoken to her in confidence and then regretted it so fiercely that he’d fled, rejecting her and their love with heart breaking finality. She had no right to repeat anything he’d said, even to Baptista.
After a while they were joined by a tall, white-haired man who turned out to be Federico, the ‘old friend’ from the party.
‘He’s more than that,’ Heather murmured into her ear. ‘Years and years ago he and Baptista were in love with each other. She calls him Fede. Now he comes almost every day and they sit holding hands. It’s so sweet to see them together.’
It was true, Angie thought, watching the two old people, so happy in each other’s company. They had been lovers once, and they were lovers still, although differently. Somehow Bernardo had missed the truth about them. But then, Angie reflected sadly, Bernardo wasn’t very perceptive about people.
She had a pleasant surprise with the arrival of the brothers. Renato had altered. His joy in his wife was quiet but so heartfelt, and his attitude to her so tender that Angie finally began to like him.
Lorenzo too had changed, although it was harder for her to be sure just how. He was still the merry hearted charmer that nature had made him, but he seemed to have mysteriously grown in confidence, and Angie sensed it had something to do with Renato’s happiness. Lorenzo’s love for his older brother had once been tinged with awe but now there was a subtle change in the power balance between them. Lorenzo had held the happiness of three people in his hands, and by doing the right thing he’d saved them all. Now Renato had acknowledged it and nothing would ever be the same between them again.
He greeted Angie with a brotherly kiss, as though she was already a member of the family, and, sitting down, began to tell her about the trip he was about to take to the States.
‘New York, New Orleans, Los Angeles, Chicago-spreading the Martelli word wherever I go.’
‘Yes, well, I heard you daren’t show your face in Britain again,’ Angie teased.
‘That was a misunderstanding,’ he said loftily. ‘The magistrate fined me, I paid it-’
‘And high-tailed it out of the country while the going was good.’
‘My big sister’s been opening her big mouth,’ Lorenzo said with a good natured grin at Heather.
She heard him, and returned the smile. So did Renato. They were sitting together, the picture of blissful contentment, bathed in their own happiness and the happiness they had brought to others. This was the Martelli family at its best, Angie thought, and in the same moment came the realisation that this was the family Bernardo had rejected as he had rejected her. Because something in him made it easier to reject warmth and loving kindness than to accept it. After the other night she partly understood what that ‘something’ was, and her heart ached that he wouldn’t turn to her, seeking help and consolation in her love.
As soon as it was polite to do so she left the Residenza and drove home to the mountains, which had never seemed so lonely.
Lorenzo was in the States for two months, sending back a stream of big orders and covering himself with glory. He returned in the second week of April, and one of the first things he did was to visit Angie, arriving just as she was finishing evening surgery.
‘You’re welcome to stay if you don’t mind something microwaved,’ she said.
‘Sounds fine.’
From her freezer he selected a vegetarian lasagne and she put it in the oven.
‘No wine for me,’ she said as he produced a bottle. ‘Pour me an orange juice.’ While he did so she laid the table, glad to have company. ‘I want to hear all about America,’ she said.
Instead of answering, Lorenzo grinned in a way that made Angie raise her eyebrows. ‘What’s her name?’ she demanded at once.
‘I don’t know why you women always jump to one conclusion. I spent some time with the daughter of family friends in New York. Her name’s Helen, and before you start listening for wedding bells, I’m the last man in the world she’d dream of marrying. She told me that in the first ten minutes.’
‘You proposed to her in ten minutes?’
‘She didn’t wait for a proposal. She just rushed to tell me not to bother.’
‘You don’t mean you’ve met a woman who’s immune to your charm?’
‘If you like to put it that way,’ he said, slightly piqued.
‘Well, don’t keep me in suspense. Tell me-
A fork had fallen to the floor and jabbed her foot. Leaning down for it, she found the flagstones swimming.
‘Are you all right?’ Lorenzo asked in alarm. He rushed across the floor and took her shoulders, steadying her as he raised her.
‘Yes, I’m fine,’ she said quickly.
‘You look a bit peaky.’
‘It’s been a long, hard day. I didn’t have time for lunch, and that’s fatal.’
‘Well, you sit there and I’ll finish. Even I can cook with a microwave.’
He was as good as his word, serving her with a comical flourish that made her laugh.
‘If you were hoping to see Bernardo, he still isn’t here,’ she said as they were eating.
‘I know. Mamma told me he was still off somewhere. It’s you I came to see. How are you managing?’
‘Better than anyone expected.’
‘You mean better than
‘Yes, I suppose so.’ She gave a brittle laugh. ‘I keep wishing he’d come back so that I can say, “I told you so”.’
‘He used to do this a lot when we were boys, you know. It’s not enough for him to live in the same world as the rest of us. He has to have another one, all his own, where he makes the rules and nobody else is invited. And sometimes he has to vanish into it. But it’s hard on you. What’s the point of your coming here to be with him, if
‘I didn’t come here to be with him,’ Angie said stonily. ‘I came to teach him a lesson.’ Her voice broke. ‘I seem to have rather overdone it.’
‘Don’t say that.’ Lorenzo took both of her hands in his, and his voice was kind. ‘It isn’t your fault. My brother’s a fool. Well, we all are, but Bernardo’s a different kind of fool. Renato schemes and connives, and sometimes he makes a mess of things by being too clever for his own good. Me, I’m just a plain, straightforward idiot. But Bernardo’s thoughts are all dark and tangled up so that he can’t see what’s staring him in the face.’
There was such kindness in his eyes that she thought wistfully how different things might have been. How nice it would be to have Lorenzo as a brother! The temptation to confide in him was overwhelming. She might have yielded to it if the doorbell hadn’t rung. A moment later Ginetta ushered a sharp-faced young man into the room.
‘Not you again!’ Angie said, with a loathing that made Lorenzo stare at her.
The man was in his late twenties with lean features and a supercilious stare. His manner suggested a barely suppressed impatience. Angie introduced him as Carlo Bondini, but she did so briefly and without warmth, adding, ‘Signor Bondini, I asked you not to bother me again.’
‘I merely thought you might have changed your mind, on reflection.’
‘Well, I haven’t.’
‘I can increase my offer by another ten million lire. It’s a very good offer.’
‘It would be an excellent offer if I wanted to sell, but I don’t. Why can’t you take no for an answer?’
‘Because this is exactly the kind of practice I’m looking for.’
‘Then please keep looking and find another one. And don’t come back.’
‘Oh, I’ll be back.’
‘No, you’ve been told not to,’ Lorenzo said with deceptive affability. ‘But you never could take a hint. I’ve just remembered you. We were at school together. I didn’t like you then, either. Get going and keep going.’
Bondini looked as if he might dispute the point, but he wasn’t built for heroics against a man of Lorenzo’s size, and he wisely decided to let the matter drop.
