‘Perhaps not always,’ he said cautiously.
‘Oh, I think so. Or at least far more often than people realise, and usually with the last person you’d expect.’
‘But according to you it can be expected from everyone,’ he pointed out, watching her.
‘I’ve had time to learn from experience, and it’s very illuminating.’
He didn’t answer at once, but she could feel the teasing humour die.
‘Yes, it is,’ he said heavily at last.
‘I can’t look back far enough to find an evening I’ve enjoyed like tonight. It’s as if you’ve given me a new world. You’re right. This was a wonderful idea. And practical, of course.’
He was refilling her glass but he stopped, looking up in surprise.
‘Practical?’
‘Certainly. We need to talk about Liza, and it’s difficult at home because she’s such a sharp little thing that she always knows what’s going on, and wants to be part of it. So arranging to meet outside was a really clever idea on your part.’
‘I see. I was as clever as that, was I?’
‘Oh, yes. Of course, it helps that you’re a judge-having an businesslike mind, I mean.’
He regarded her with ironic appreciation, and didn’t even try to find an answer to this. One up to her, she thought.
‘Now, about Liza,’ she resumed. ‘I think I’ve gone as far as I can on my own, but I need you to tell me a lot more, not just about her, but about her mother.’
‘Surely you can learn that from Liza herself,’ he said gruffly.
‘Not really. A little girl can’t know everything, even about herself. I know she’s trying to see her mother in me, but sooner or later she has to let go. If she starts telling herself that Mamma has somehow come back-well, that wouldn’t be good for her. I’m going carefully, feeling out each situation, one by one, but I’m groping in the dark.’
‘Then you’re doing something right by instinct,’ he said. ‘That book that you’re reading together-it belonged to Carol. She used to read it to Liza. She wanted her to be fluent in her own language as well as Italian.’
‘That was shrewd of her. We talk in English and Italian, and we’re both improving. Sometimes I think she’s teaching me more than I’m teaching her. That’s good for her. It helps her self-esteem.’
He made a restless movement. ‘Carol used to say exactly the same,’ he said. ‘It’s almost eerie. You are exactly what Liza needs.’
‘But she needs you much more than me-’
‘She needs a mother-’
‘She needs a parent,’ Holly said firmly. ‘Liza’s lost one parent and she needs the other one more. I’m just a substitute, but you’re her father. You’re more necessary to her than anyone on earth.’
‘You talk as though I weren’t here-’
‘Sometimes I think you’re not-in any sense that matters. The other day she and I were in the garden, she was talking about you, and I’m sure you were there, standing close by in the bushes.’
He nodded.
‘Then you must have heard what she said about you.’
‘Yes,’ he said quietly. ‘I heard.’
‘But you slipped away. I wish you hadn’t. If you’d come out, and put your arms around her and told her how much you loved her-it would have meant the world to her. Why do you never do that?’
‘How do you know that I never?’ he asked sharply. ‘You don’t always see us together.’
‘Are you any more demonstrative when I’m not there?’
‘No,’ he admitted. ‘I’m not a demonstrative man.’
Recalling what she’d seen in the photographs, Holly didn’t believe this for a moment.
‘You demand a lot of understanding from an eight-year-old child,’ she said with a touch of anger. ‘What about what she wants? Why don’t you try understanding her? She needs to be reassured about your love, all the time, every minute, every second. She needs to see you as soon as possible in the morning and last thing before she falls asleep. She needs you to put your arms around her suddenly, spontaneously. She needs to look up and find you smiling at her. You could do all this once, so why is it so hard for you? I know you adore her, everyone says so…’
His head went up.
‘Everyone?’ he echoed sharply. ‘Who have you been talking to? Who is this “everyone” who seems to know my private business? My staff, I suppose.’
She cursed herself for being clumsy. She should have known this touchy character would resent being discussed behind his back. She tried to mitigate the damage.
‘Don’t blame them. They haven’t been gossiping, just trying to put me in the picture, which I appreciate. They all say how much you love her, what a devoted father you’ve always been.’
‘I’m sure they meant well,’ he said in a cool voice. ‘And so did you. Let us leave it there for the moment.’
‘But if we could only-’
‘I hadn’t realised how late it was. You must be longing for your bed, and I have a heavy day tomorrow. Waiter!’
It was no use. The moment was over. The waiter called them a cab and a few minutes later they were on their way back to the villa. On the journey they talked about nothing in particular, and did it with great determination.
It was only when the cab had gone and the doors of the villa had closed behind them that he said quietly, ‘I’m sorry.’
‘I was clumsy-’
‘No, it was my fault,’ he said with a quick disclaiming gesture. ‘There are things it’s hard for me to speak of, or even think of, but I had no right to take it out on you.’
‘Do you want to go on talking now?’ she asked softly.
They were standing in the half-lit hall and his face was in shadow, but she had the sense that he was on the verge of agreeing.
‘Matteo,’ she said, using his name for the first time, ‘can’t you trust me?’
‘Of course,’ he said slowly. ‘I do trust you-you know I do…’
He took her hand and held it in his, as though there he would find something he needed.
‘Holly-’ he murmured, ‘Holly-if only…’
Her heart lifted at what she heard in his voice. He continued to stare down at her hand as his fingers closed slowly over it. She clasped him back, suddenly filled with delighted expectancy.
‘Poppa!’
The eager voice from above made them look sharply up, while their hands slipped away from each other.
‘Poppa!’ Liza stood on the landing, trembling with eagerness. ‘I thought you weren’t coming home.’
She began to stump down the stairs, awkward on her bad leg. Matteo muttered something, rushing up to help her so that she fell into his outstretched arms.
‘What are you doing up at this hour?’ he chided gently. ‘You should be in bed and asleep.’
‘I was watching for you and Holly.’
‘I’m here,’ Holly said, starting to climb the stairs.
‘Oh, good,’ the little girl said.
She was snuggled contentedly in her father’s arms and Holly sent up a silent prayer of gratitude that this had happened now, reinforcing what she had been trying to tell him. Surely he must see how his daughter loved and needed him?
But as Liza buried her face against him, and he held her, he was staring into the distance, and Holly thought she had never seen so much despair in one man’s face.
CHAPTER EIGHT
