Read The Italian Girl Online

Authors: Lucinda Riley

Tags: #Fiction, #General, #Romance, #Contemporary, #Historical

The Italian Girl (45 page)

‘Luca and I had hoped Carlotta was recovering, but, oh dear . . .’ Tears came to Rosanna’s eyes.

‘I
am
sorry, Rosanna, truly,’ said Abi. ‘What awful news to return to. I wish I could stay on and try to help in some way, but sadly, now my child-minding duties are over, I really have to get back to London. Publication is the week after next. You’re both invited to the launch party, of course, but I’ll understand if you can’t make it. Oh, and if Luca is still here, tell him he’s invited too,’ she added.

While Abi went to collect her holdall, Stephen sat, watching the grave expression on Rosanna’s face. He reached out a hand to her. ‘I’m sorry, darling. I’m not sure what I can say or do to help.’

‘From what Luca said, Carlotta wants Ella away from her so she doesn’t have to watch her mamma die. She doesn’t wish to see me either,’ Rosanna sighed. ‘I can’t help but feel hurt.’

‘Well, I’m sure she has her reasons. And she must trust you, if she’s sending her daughter into your care.’

‘Yes,’ Rosanna agreed, brightening a little, ‘I suppose she must.’

A few minutes later, they stood outside saying goodbye to Abi.

‘Bye, darling Rosanna. Thank you for everything. And if you need a chat, you know where I am. Oh, and give my love to Luca.’ She started the engine and, with a wave, pulled out of the drive.

Two days later, Rosanna spent the morning cleaning her house from top to bottom. It was what she always did when she was tense. Nico followed behind her, wielding a large feather duster.

‘Your cousin is coming to see us today, Nico. Her name is Ella. Can you say Ella?’

‘Lala,’ Nico repeated, as Rosanna plumped the pillows in one of the guest bedrooms, then placed a vase of flowers on the window ledge.

‘Ella,’ repeated Rosanna.

‘Lala,’ trilled Nico.

‘There, everything is ready. Now, shall we go downstairs and have some lunch?’

Later in the afternoon, while Nico was resting, Stephen’s car pulled into the drive. Rosanna watched from the sitting room window as he turned off the engine, then waited as Luca got out and opened the rear passenger door. A young girl emerged from it. She was tall and slim as a willow, with a crown of thick, dark hair. As she walked with Luca towards the house, Rosanna ran to open the front door.

‘Luca, Ella . . . it’s so lovely to see you both.’ She hugged Luca, then kissed her niece on both cheeks. The girl looked at her aunt nervously. Her face was very pale, making her dark eyes seem even larger.


Come va
, Aunt Rosanna? I thank you for having me to stay,’ Ella said in Italian, as she managed a weak smile.

The smile looked so familiar somehow, yet it wasn’t Carlotta she was reminded of. Dismissing the thought, Rosanna put a comforting arm round Ella’s shoulders and led her inside. ‘How was the journey?’

‘Oh, it was exciting. I’ve never been on a plane before. I like flying very much.’

‘You must be hungry. I have some scones and jam to keep you going until supper.’

‘Excuse me, but what are scones?’ Ella asked as Rosanna led her into the sitting room, Luca and Stephen bringing up the rear.

‘They’re little English cakes. I think you’ll like them. You sit down here with Luca and I’ll go and make some coffee and bring it through.’

‘Thank you, Aunt Rosanna.’

‘Just call me Rosanna. “Aunt” makes me sound very old.’ Rosanna smiled and left the room, wondering why the presence of her niece was unsettling her. Stephen followed her into the kitchen.

‘Ella seems like a lovely young girl, although she didn’t speak much in the car. I’m not sure how much English she understands. She looks a bit overwhelmed, though,’ he commented, taking a scone from the plate and biting into it.

‘Of course. She’s never been out of Naples, let alone across the sea to a strange country to stay with an aunt she hasn’t seen for years. I want to make her feel at home, to help her settle down. It’s the least I can do for Carlotta.’

‘You know,’ said Stephen, contemplatively munching on his scone, ‘she reminds me of someone.’

‘Who?’ Rosanna asked.

‘You, silly. She reminds me of you.’

Of course, that was it, that was why the smile seemed familiar
, she thought. ‘Stephen, please take those scones into the sitting room before you eat them all,’ Rosanna scolded him affectionately.

‘Then I’ll be off. You need to talk to Luca and Ella, darling. I’ll keep out of the way.’

‘Come over for supper tomorrow then?’

‘Lovely.’ He kissed her on the tip of her nose and left.

‘Hello, Rosanna.’ Ella came into the kitchen so quietly that Rosanna didn’t hear her.

‘Hello, Ella, I’m just bringing in the coffee now.’

‘I only came to say that, if you don’t mind, I’ll go to bed. I’m very tired.’

‘Are you not hungry? Would you like to join us for supper later?’

She shook her head. ‘No, thank you.
Buona notte
, Rosanna.’

‘Goodnight, Ella.’

The girl turned and left the room. There was something so vulnerable about her, so lonely, that a lump rose in Rosanna’s throat.

‘I think she knows Carlotta is dying, Luca,’ said Rosanna as they sat down later together in the kitchen and ate supper.

‘Maybe, but Carlotta has refused to talk to Ella about her illness, or the future.’

‘How long has Carlotta got left?’

Luca put down his fork and shook his head. ‘I don’t know, Rosanna, but not long. Her spirit is breaking. She’s in so much pain.’

‘Then Ella must go back soon, before it’s too late.’

‘No, Rosanna. Carlotta does not want her to. She has said goodbye to her daughter.’

‘But what about Ella?’ She was horrified. ‘Has she not the right to choose what she would like to do?’

‘Carlotta has made her decision. She believes it to be for the best.’

‘And after she dies? What happens then?’

‘Rosanna, I have a letter for you from Carlotta. I think it will explain things better than I can. I’ll give it to you after supper. Now, please, we should eat with happier thoughts. How was New York?’

‘It was very good . . . and very bad.’ Rosanna picked at the baked potato on her plate. ‘Stephen was lovely, but I met some people who know Roberto and his mistress, Donatella Bianchi.’

Luca raised his eyebrows. ‘He’s back with her?’

‘Yes.’

‘They deserve each other, those two. They are made of the same stuff.’

‘That’s exactly what Trish said, that they suited each other.’

‘Trish?’

‘Sorry, the wife of Stephen’s client in New York. She’s friendly with Donatella and Roberto. It was a little awkward at first, but actually I think she’s a nice person. Her husband is a billionaire with a wonderful art collection. He took me into a little room where he has an exquisite drawing of the Madonna.’ Rosanna gestured with her hands to indicate its size. ‘He said the drawing is by Leonardo da Vinci. He paid millions of dollars for it, apparently.’

‘Really?’ Luca paused, then said, ‘This drawing, where did he find it?’

‘I don’t know. He said it was a secret, so I suppose I shouldn’t be telling you. Maybe Stephen will know. You can ask him. Why?’

‘Oh,’ Luca shrugged, ‘no reason.’

Throughout the evening, the suspicion in Luca’s mind began to grow. He excused himself early and went to his room, desperate to put together his thoughts: Donatella, a friend of the art collector, a small drawing of the Madonna, reminiscent of Leonardo . . . could it be the same one, or was it merely coincidence?

The next morning, as Ella and Rosanna sat in the kitchen with Nico having breakfast, Luca went into the study. He looked through his sister’s address book, found Stephen’s number at the gallery and dialled it.

‘Stephen, it’s Luca Menici here. Excuse me for disturbing you and this may seem a strange question, but last night Rosanna told me about a drawing of the Madonna that your client in New York has.’

‘Did she indeed? She was meant to keep quiet about that one,’ said Stephen sternly.

‘She wouldn’t tell anyone else, Stephen. Don’t worry. But why is it supposed to be a secret?’

‘Oh, many art collectors prefer to keep their more valuable paintings quiet. Art theft is a major problem nowadays.’

‘Do you happen to know where your client purchased this drawing?’

‘Yes, but I’d be breaking client confidentiality to tell you, Luca.’

‘Stephen, please, it’s very important that I know. You have my word I will not tell.’

‘Well . . . it was a well-known Italian dealer called Giovanni Bianchi. Luca, why do you ask?’

At the other end of the line, Luca closed his eyes and shook his head in disbelief.

‘Luca, are you still there?’

‘Yes. Stephen, we must talk. It’s a matter of great importance.’

‘Well, I’m coming over for supper tonight. If I come earlier, we can chat while Rosanna baths Nico.’

‘Okay, but not a word to Rosanna, please.’

‘Of course not. Goodbye, Luca.’

Luca replaced the receiver, went back into the kitchen and tried to forget that his beloved church and his country may have been cheated out of a priceless treasure from right under his nose.

41

Later that afternoon, while both Nico and Ella were resting, Rosanna sat at the kitchen table and read the letter Luca had handed her from Carlotta.

Vico Piedigrotta,
Naples
My dear Rosanna,
I thank you from the bottom of my heart for having Ella to stay. It means a lot to me to know that she is with you in England, far away from what is happening to her mamma. Luca will have told you about my illness and that I have very little time left. Forgive me, Rosanna, for not wishing to see you; when death is sudden you are unable to make choices, but the one consolation I have with my slow death is that I’m able to organise it the way I wish. And I wish to see no one. Very soon I am going away to somewhere peaceful. Shortly, Luca will join me and help me through my last days.
If it seems I have made little effort to communicate with you in the past few years and have ignored your kind offers to come and stay with you in England, I ask you to forgive me. I cannot really explain. Our lives turned out so differently and, if I’m truthful, I might have found it hard comparing yours to mine. There, I have said it. And some day, if fate chooses, you may know the whole truth and then you will understand.
Rosanna, you may wonder why I wish Ella to be away from me. My heart tells me it is right, that she should not watch her mamma suffer anymore. I know you will treat her kindly. She will be very upset for a while, but she is young and I’m sure with the love I know you will show her, she will recover in time.
I have two things I wish you to do for me. When I die, I do not want you or Ella to attend my funeral. I will be buried quietly with only Papa and Luca to lay me to rest. The second thing is – and I hope you do not feel I ask too much – I don’t wish Ella to return to Naples after I’m gone. I would like her to stay with you in England. If she returns here, her life will be a repeat of mine. She deserves more. She is a very special child. Ask her to sing for you one day.
So, I’m putting her future into your hands. I have a little money saved and when I die, my lawyer will forward the amount to you to help towards her keep. I thank you now in advance for Ella’s care. I know you will do your best for her.
Rosanna, do not mind that I say this, but I’m glad you have left Roberto. He is destructive and, however much you loved him, he could only bring you pain. There are some people in the world who are made like that. Luca tells me you have a good man now who cares for you in the way he should.
Finally, do not let Roberto take away your talent. You were born to sing! You MUST sing.
Goodbye, Rosanna.
Ti amo,
Your sister, Carlotta

Rosanna dropped the letter from her hands and wept.

‘Rosanna, Rosanna? I . . .’

She looked up and saw Ella watching her, a worried frown on her face.

‘I came to tell you Nico is awake,’ Ella continued. ‘Are you all right? What is wrong?’ She glanced at the letter on the floor.

Rosanna quickly scooped it up. ‘I’m sorry, Ella. I—’

‘It’s a letter from Mamma, telling you she is dying, yes?’

Rosanna saw the pain in her lovely eyes.

‘I know it’s why I’m here with you in England, so Mamma can die without me watching. I know I have said goodbye to her. I . . .’ Ella’s shoulders heaved and she began to sob.

‘Yes, Ella, and I’m so, so sorry.’ Rosanna went to her and held her and they cried together. Eventually, she steered Ella to the sofa, sat her down and smoothed the hair back from her face. ‘I know how difficult this must be for you.’ She spoke softly in Italian. ‘But it’s what your mamma wanted.’

‘But not what
I
wanted,’ said Ella in a choked voice.

‘I know, I know, but she’s only trying to spare you pain. She doesn’t wish to see me either.’

‘But she needs me, she is all alone,’ Ella moaned.

‘No. Luca is flying back tomorrow and he will be with her. They are very close and it’s he whom she wanted.’

‘But what about me? The future?’ Ella shook her head. ‘Without Mamma, what will I do?’


Cara
, she has made plans for you, so please do not worry. For the moment, you are going to stay here with Nico and me. I know it’s strange and difficult for you, but it will get easier, I promise. We’ll make our own little family. I’ll look after you.’

‘But . . . do you want me here? After all, you hardly know me.’

‘Now, that’s a silly thing to say,
cara
. You are my niece and I love you, Ella. And I get very lonely in this house by myself. You’ll be company for me, and I can see Nico already adores you. We’re both very happy to have you here, really, and we’ll help each other through this, yes?’

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