‘But surely it can’t really be true?’
‘Who cares as long as it makes them happy?’
‘Isn’t a lawyer supposed to care about the truth?’
‘No, a lawyer cares about the facts. It’s quite different. Anyway, that’s for the courtroom. In real life a nice, satisfying fantasy is better.’
‘You’re like no lawyer I’ve ever known. You’ve got that office in the Via Veneto, which is the most expensive part of town, and yet you live here which is far from expensive. Perhaps I should double your rent.’
Her head jerked up. ‘You
‘Calm down; I was only teasing. It seemed right to play up to your idea of me as Scrooge-sorry, Scrooge was an English villain-’
‘You don’t have to explain that to me. I’m half English.’
‘You are?’
‘My father was Italian, my mother was English. I was born here, and lived here until I was eight. Then my father died, my mother returned to England and I was raised there.’
Luke stared at her. ‘That’s incredible.’
‘Unusual, maybe, but hardly incredible.’
‘I mean that it’s a sort of mirror image of my own experience. I’m completely English by birth. When my parents died I was adopted. But my adoptive parents divorced after a few years and my mother married an Italian called Toni Rinucci, from Naples. I’ve lived in Naples ever since.’
‘So that’s why you have an English name?’
‘Yes. The Rinuccis are a family of English-Italian hybrids. Primo, my nearest adoptive brother, had an Italian mother, so he calls me
She gave a gasp of delighted recognition. ‘When Gianni and I were teasing each other he used to say, “Of course you’re half English so you wouldn’t understand,” and I used to throw things at him.’
‘Didn’t you like being half English?’
She shook her head vigorously. ‘I always wanted to think of myself as Italian. I got back here as soon as I could, and I knew at once that I’d come home, my real home. I met Gianni soon after, and we were married quickly. We had ten years. Then he died.’
She delivered the last few words briefly, and got up to make some more coffee. Luke said nothing, wondering at the sudden change that had come over her.
After a moment she returned, apparently cheerful again.
‘So now you know why I live here. I love the whole family. Netta’s a mother to me. Gianni’s brothers became my brothers. I shall never leave.’
‘But don’t you ever feel the need to move on? I don’t just mean to another address, but emotionally, to the next stage in life?’
She frowned a little, as though wondering what the words meant.
‘No,’ she said at last. ‘I was happy with Gianni. He was a wonderful man and we loved each other totally. Why would I want to move on from that? After total happiness, what is the “next stage”?’
‘But it’s over,’ he said gently. ‘It was over four years ago.’
She shook her head. ‘No, it’s not over just because he died. When two people have been so close, and loved each other so much, death doesn’t end it. Gianni will be with me as long as I live. I can’t see him, but he’s still with me, here in this apartment. That’s my “next stage”.’
‘But you’re too young to settle for permanent widowhood,’ he burst out.
‘Who are you to say?’ she demanded with a touch of anger. ‘It’s my decision. Gianni was faithful to me. What’s wrong with me being faithful to him?’
‘He’s dead, that’s what’s wrong with it. Can’t there be more than one man in the world?’
‘Of course,’ she said simply, ‘but only if I want there to be.’
There was no more to say. She had closed the subject quietly but firmly. For a moment he glimpsed an iron will beneath the charming exterior. She would not be easily moved from a decision once taken.
‘Thank you for breakfast,’ he said. ‘I’ll be going now.’
‘Let’s fix an appointment so that we can go over this building and I can show you what needs to be done.’
‘You’ve already given me a comprehensive list.’
‘Yes, but the reality is worse. Shall we say tomorrow? I have a free afternoon.’
‘I’m afraid I don’t,’ he said untruthfully. ‘I’d like to arrange my own timetable. I’ll call and speak to your secretary.’
Her wry look told him that she wasn’t fooled. He met her eyes, letting her know that he wasn’t going to be a pushover.
Before leaving he said, ‘Can I have the key to the place where I slept last night? I’d like to look at it again. Thank you.’
The next few days were packed with work. The day she’d lost had to be made up and she had several new clients, so there was little time to reflect on the fact that Luke didn’t contact her.
She took to going home late to avoid the curious looks of her fellow tenants. She knew they were excited at the prospect that she could really help them now, and they would be disappointed to know that matters had stalled. If Signor Cayman, as she persisted in thinking of him, did not call her, they would expect her to call him, and she didn’t know how to explain that pigs would roost in trees first.
Nor could she have told them that one part of her was glad not to meet him again. When she thought of what she’d told him about Gianni and their lasting love, she was aghast at herself. She never discussed her husband with strangers, yet she’d found herself saying things to this man that she’d barely confided to Gianni’s family. For some reason she cared that he should understand, but it made no sense, and it obscurely alarmed her.
Then a client suffered a crisis, forcing her to travel to Milan and stay for a week. During that time there was no call from him, according to her secretary. On the night before her return to Rome she decided that enough was enough, and called the Contini.
‘I’m sorry,
She flew back to Rome calling herself every name she could think of. He’d returned to Naples and her best chance was gone.
It was late but as she entered the courtyard Netta, followed by her menfolk, came hurrying to meet her, arms open.
‘Darling, you’re so clever,’ Netta cried, enfolding her in a gigantic hug.
‘No, I’m not. Netta, I’ve been stupid-’
‘Don’t be silly! You’re a genius! Charlie, Benito, take her bags. Can’t you see she’s tired?’
Minnie found herself swept in and up the stairs.
‘We’ve been longing for you to come home so that we could tell you how proud of you we are,’ Netta said gleefully. ‘It was a master stroke. You’re simply a genius. Everyone says so.’
‘Netta, will somebody please tell me what I’ve done that’s so clever?’
‘Oh, listen to her!’ Netta chortled.
‘But what-?’
Minnie fell silent as they reached the second floor. The door to the vacant apartment opened and a man emerged, regarding her satirically.
‘What-are you doing here?’ she asked slowly.
‘I live here,’ Luke informed her. ‘I’ve just taken this apartment, although I have to say it’s in shocking condition. First thing tomorrow I shall complain to the landlord.’
Meetings of the Residenza Tenants’ Association always took place in Netta’s home. This time the atmosphere was buzzing.
Netta dispensed coffee and cakes, besieged on all sides by neighbours who assumed that she was in the know. But what she could tell them was disappointingly thin.
‘I’ve hardly seen her since she came home. She’s been in her office early and late. There’s been no chance to discuss anything.’
‘But she must be talking to him privately,’ was the consensus. ‘Look at what he did today. She must have made
