Rose was about to veto the idea when Dante went on without pausing.
‘Now I know you are safe I will let you sleep. Buonanotte, Rose.’
‘Good night. Thanks for ringing,’ she said politely.
His chuckle sent tremors down her spine. ‘You knew that I would. Ciao.’
Rose switched off the light and slid down in the bed, but thanks to Dante’s call she was no longer tired. The mere sound of his voice had conjured up not only his goodbye kiss but all her doubts and fears about keeping his daughter secret from him. But he had no legal right to claim Bea as his daughter, she reassured herself with a resurgence of the old resentment. His sole contribution to her existence was a fleeting episode of sexual pleasure before he’d returned to the fiancée he’d neglected to mention.
* * *
When Bea had been dropped off at nursery school the next morning Rose got down to work right away to make up for lost time. Usually she did some household chores before settling at her desk, but Grace had left the house in remarkably immaculate condition for someone in charge of a lively child. Rose sighed. In the beginning, after Bea was born, she had tried hard to transform herself from slapdash student into perfect mother, housekeeper and eventual wage earner. She’d learned the hard way to get her priorities right. As long as Bea was happy, clean and well fed Rose took her mother’s advice and kept her brief spells of spare time for taking the baby for walks, or resting while Bea napped. The chores could wait until Rose had time and energy to spare for them. Or, said Grace, she could accept money to pay for a little help in the house.
Rose switched on her computer, smiling at the memory of her indignation at the suggestion. She’d been so determined to be the most efficient single parent it was possible to be. And if she was sometimes desperate for a good night’s sleep, or to be out clubbing or shopping with girlfriends again, or even just taking a walk without pushing a buggy, she never admitted it to a soul. She sighed irritably and settled down to work in the brief window of time before she collected her daughter.
Bea’s face lit up when she saw her mother waiting for her. ‘Mummy! You came today.’
‘Of course I did.’ Rose took her leave of the young teacher and held Bea’s hand. ‘I told you I would.’
‘You didn’t come yesterday.’
‘I was away, so I asked Gramma and Tom to fetch you.’
Bea nodded as she was buckled into her car seat. ‘They fetched me lots of times.’
‘Only two times, darling.’
Bea looked unconvinced by the maths. ‘Are you going to work today?’
‘Yes, but only for a little while this afternoon. Gramma will stay with you and I’ll be home in time for tea. And tomorrow it’s Saturday and we can go to the park.’
* * *
Rose was soon so firmly entrenched in her usual routine again it was hard to believe the trip to Florence had ever happened until Charlotte rang to grovel with apologies and demand every detail of Rose’s taste of la dolce vita.
Rose brushed that aside. ‘Did you ask Dante Fortinari to show me round, Charlotte?’
‘Certainly not. I just asked him to deliver your letter by hand because there was cash in it.’ Charlotte paused. ‘Though Dante seemed pretty keen on meeting up with you again.’