‘So I gather from Dante!’
‘Come into the sitting room; I won’t be a minute.’
‘I’d rather watch while you make it. Bea will show me where.’
‘Let’s take our guest to the kitchen, then, pet,’ said Rose, surprised to see her daughter take Harriet’s hand.
‘We had to come home from the park,’ Bea informed their visitor. ‘It rained. Want to see my paintings?’
Harriet assured her she’d like nothing better, and inspected the artwork in the kitchen with due respect while Rose made tea and took a cake from a tin.
‘You’re a very good artist, Bea—’ a verdict which won another smile ‘—shall we sit here at the table?’
Bea nodded proudly. ‘I don’t need a high chair now.’
‘Of course not. You’re a big girl.’
Rose smiled warmly into Harriet’s beautiful dark eyes. ‘You’ve been speaking to Dante!’
‘Have you got a little girl?’ asked Bea.
‘Yes, though she’s a big girl, too. A bit bigger than you. Her name’s Chiara. And I have a son, too; his name’s Luca. I couldn’t bring them with me because they’re in school.’
‘I go to school,’ said Bea proudly.
‘Would you like some cake, Harriet?’ said Rose.
‘Gramma and me made it,’ confided Bea.
‘I’d love some,’ said Harriet, and sipped her tea with pleasure. ‘Wonderful. I can never get tea to taste the same in Fortino.’
Rose loaded a tray. ‘Shall we go back to the other room?’
‘Let’s make it easy and stay here. OK with you, Bea?’
The child nodded happily.
‘It’s kind of you to spare the time to visit us,’ said Rose warmly.
‘Charlotte Vilari suggested it first, seconded by Dante, who gave me your number,’ said Harriet, and grinned. ‘After which, nothing would have kept me away, of course. I should have rung you first, but I’m on a very short flying visit, so I seized the moment. I hope I’m not interrupting your work?’
‘You’re not, but it wouldn’t matter if you were.’ Rose smiled eagerly. ‘You’ve seen Charlotte recently? How was she?’
‘Blooming! But she told me to say you’ll have to fly there to see her because Fabio refuses to let her travel right now.’ Harriet looked at her expectantly. ‘Will you go?’
‘As soon as I can, yes.’ Rose smiled at her daughter. ‘You can get down now if you like, Bea.’
‘Get Pinocchio.’
‘Off you go then.’
Harriet smiled as Bea ran off. ‘She’s lovely. Enjoy her at this stage while you can. They grow up too fast.’ She turned, suddenly serious. ‘Look, Rose, while we’re alone, I just want you to know that Dante had a really rough deal with his marriage. The family was delighted when Elsa the Witch left him but, although he hid it well, the rejection must have been a blow to his pride. Up to the death of his grandmother, whom we all adored, life had been kind to Dante. Then Nonna died, and he married Elsa. She had chased him mercilessly, desperate to marry a Fortinari, but once she had the ring on her finger she refused to have children. Soon afterwards, thank God, she met a man as old as the hills, but so filthy rich the delightful Elsa left Dante flat and took off with her sugar daddy.’