‘I’m glad they’ve arrived,’ he said.
‘You shouldn’t have ordered these without telling me,’ she reproved him, but not very seriously.
‘You’re free to send them back.’
‘Well-I may do that,’ she said, knowing that she didn’t sound very convinced.
‘I’m giving a dinner party tomorrow evening. My friends are fond of Liza, so I’d like you to bring her down. I’ll send a message when I’m ready.’
At that moment Liza put her head around the door.
‘There you are,’ she said. ‘I’ve got the book. You promised to read it to me.’ To her father she explained, ‘It’s in English. Holly reads it to me in English, but she stops when it gets exciting, so I have to read some myself to find out what happens next.’
To Holly’s surprise a wintry look suddenly crossed his face.
‘Yes, that’s an excellent way to learn a language,’ he murmured. ‘I must be going. Don’t forget what I said about tomorrow.’
‘We’re going downstairs to meet your Poppa’s guests,’ Holly explained in response to Liza’s curious look.
Liza made a sound of delight and tried to seize her father’s arm, but he removed himself at once.
‘I must get to work,’ he said at once.
‘Oh, please, Poppa, just a few minutes.’
‘I’m busy,
Holly moved the child gently away, smiling to distract her from her father’s evident eagerness to escape. He took endless trouble for her, yet again and again Holly sensed him seeking to put a distance between them.
‘Is it the procession today, Poppa?’ Liza asked.
‘No, tomorrow. That’s why some of them will be joining me for dinner, as they do every year. And you will meet them,
‘Yes, Poppa.’
Liza spoke docilely, but it was as though a cloud had fallen over her. Holly was angry with him. All his child wanted was a little of his attention, and the best he could manage was a command to be on her best behaviour.
At that moment she could gladly have throttled him.
What hurt even more was that when she looked at Liza the child had assumed a bright smile, heartbreaking in its refusal to admit defeat.
‘What’s this procession?’ Holly asked.
Liza’s brow furrowed as she tried to explain.
‘It’s all about lawyers-and courts-and-and the judges walk in a procession from the town hall to-well, anyway, they have a procession. We can watch it on television.’
That was all she knew, and Holly had to curb her impatience until next morning. It was her first sight of Matteo in his official black robes, with the long gold tassels on the shoulder.
‘It’s only judges who have gold tassels,’ Liza said. ‘Ordinary lawyers have silver.’
The way she said ‘ordinary lawyers’ told volumes about her feelings for her father. She might only be a child, but her eyes shone with pride and admiration as she watched him walk with the other judges, putting them all to shame with his height and good looks.
‘That’s Judge Lionello,’ Liza said, pointing to the plump, smiling man beside her father. He looked about sixty, with sharp eyes and gleaming silver hair.
‘He’s ever so nice,’ she continued. ‘Poppa calls him his mentor, but I don’t know what that is.’
‘A mentor is someone who tells you how to do things.’
‘Nobody tells Poppa how to do things,’ Liza said wisely. ‘He won’t allow it.’
‘I can imagine.’
The procession came to a brief halt, and the camera lingered on Matteo. Holly realised that he was younger than the other judges, and somehow more sharply defined, as though nature had designed him to stand out from any crowd. In the set of his head there was a pride that would always have given him authority, no matter where or when.
His only flaw, she decided, was his looks. He was far too handsome to be a judge. It was a positive incitement to disrespect the law.
As she watched, he turned to Judge Lionello at his side, and gave him a smile that made Holly catch her breath. It was a smile such as she had never seen from him before-warm, affectionate, generous. For a moment all the barriers he normally kept tightly in place were abandoned, revealing the attractive man underneath.
That’s what he’s really like, she thought. But he keeps it a secret because he doesn’t trust anyone, except another judge.
However, along with her reluctant admiration came a sense of antagonism that she couldn’t understand. She owed him everything, starting with her safety and reaching as far as the soft garments that touched her body intimately. And yet-and yet the hostility was there, puzzling, confusing, but undeniable.
Matteo’s smile faded as the procession moved off again. But she had seen something that she would not forget.
That evening she and Liza watched together from an upper window as the long black limousines arrived for the dinner. There was a small sprinkling of women but this was a largely male gathering.
Tonight Liza was allowed out of the wheelchair, and was full of excitement, dressed in a pretty blue dress that came down to her feet to hide her damaged leg.
For her own garments Holly had resisted the cocktail dresses and chosen a pair of smart dark blue trousers and a white silk top. Her hair had been washed and brushed until it shone, and when Matteo sent for them to join the party she hoped she looked a suitable combination of elegance and restraint.
He introduced her as a family connection of his wife, which produced a stream of cordial acknowledgements. Everyone greeted Liza with delight, and it was clear that she was a general favourite, at home in this company. After the first few minutes of keeping a wary eye on her Holly was able to relax.
‘Please, allow me to get you a glass of wine,’ said one very good-looking young man. ‘And then we will talk in English, because I am most anxious to improve my foreign languages, as a good lawyer must.’
Since his English was already perfect this was obviously the advance of a practised flirt. But as he was genuinely charming she laughed and accepted a glass of wine.
‘My name is Tomaso Bandini,’ he said with a little bow. ‘And I think we are going to be great friends.’
‘Not if you get me into trouble with my employer,’ she pointed out. ‘I’m here to look after Liza.’
‘But Liza is enjoying having a fuss made of her by Signor and Signora Lionello. So you are free to enjoy me making a fuss of you.’
He didn’t get the chance. Several of the other men were regarding Holly with admiration. It took all her tact to escape politely, and she might not have managed it if Matteo had not come to her rescue, easing her away from the crowd.
‘Thank you,’ she said. ‘I don’t quite know what happened there-’
‘I think I can make a moderately successful guess at what happened,’ he said drily. ‘I think Liza should go to bed now.’
The goodnights took some time, since everyone wanted another word with Liza, and several of the men insisted on a final goodbye with Holly.
‘Behave yourself, Tomaso,’ Matteo ordered with grim good humour.
‘I was only-’
‘I know what you were
‘She has indeed,’ Judge Lionello announced, seizing her hand in his turn and kissing it with such respect that she could not object.
‘You should be ashamed at your age,’ Matteo told him.
‘I am. Deeply ashamed. Signorina Holly, you must visit the court and let me show you around. Shall we say-?’
‘Shall we say that it’s time for my daughter to go to bed?’ Matteo asked.
Judge Lionello sighed and relinquished his prize. But he winked at her first. She backed off quickly, conscious of
