Della had said that Hope’s life was colourful enough to throw the other women into the shade, and it was true. She’d loved and been loved by several men, and had mothered six sons-four of them her own, two by other women. All of them looked to her as their mother.
It had been her dream to surround herself with daughters-in-law, and although the wedding of Francesco and Celia was still in the future she considered the dream fulfilled. On this day that she would share with her husband- the man who had always been her true love, even while she herself had only half known it-they would be surrounded by the children and the grandchildren they considered theirs.
Every member of the family who could manage it had travelled to Naples. Some stayed at the villa; some took rooms in nearby hotels. The celebrations had already lasted several days, as Hope had given a series of small parties so that she and Toni could spend time with everyone.
‘The big party, with everyone, will be a crush,’ she had told her husband. ‘So packed that there will be no time for words except for speeches, which aren’t the same.’
She had been right, but now the time had come she found that no words were needed. As she stood looking around the garden, where dinner was being served under coloured lamps, she saw that all her sons were there, and all the women who loved them. Beside them were their children-some fast-growing, some babies, but all providing the promise of plentiful activity, the wellspring of her life.
By now everyone knew what had happened at the hospital, and they looked at the couple walking among them with new eyes. Both were in their late sixties, together for thirty-five years, yet now they had the glow of young lovers.
There they stood, arms entwined, while the speeches proceeded and the toasts were drunk.
‘And I’ll swear, they never heard a word of it,’ Carlo said later. ‘They were in their own world and nobody else existed.’
‘Did you see Franco there at all?’ Della asked.
‘No, he was the only person who didn’t accept.’
Later that night, in the privacy of their room, Toni read again the letter his brother had written.
I know you will understand why I cannot be there. I rejoice with you, but I’m still learning to cope with my own loss. I’m going away for a while, to Switzerland, where Lisa and I went on our honeymoon. I shall revisit the places of our first happiness, and I like to think she will be there with me, as she will always be in my heart.
Toni looked up, smiling, as his wife came and rested an arm about his shoulder.
‘Do you remember how we planned our honeymoon?’ she asked, glancing at the letter which, like Toni, she had read many times before.
‘Yes, and we never took that trip,’ he remembered. ‘Luke got the flu, and then Francesco caught it from him-’
‘And then I caught it, and you nursed me so tenderly,’ she recalled with a smile.
She put her other arm about him and kissed him.
‘I think it’s time we took that trip,
Lucy Gordon
Lucy Gordon cut her writing teeth on magazine journalism, interviewing many of the world’s most interesting men, including Warren Beatty, Richard Chamberlain, Sir Roger Moore, Sir Alec Guinness, and Sir John Gielgud. She also camped out with lions in Africa and had many other unusual experiences which have often provided the background for her books. She is married to a Venetian, whom she met while on holiday in Venice. They got engaged within two days.
You can visit her website at www. lucy-gordon. com and look out for
