The Italian Matchmaker(102)

Back at the palazzo, Romina confronted him about the intruder. ‘I was showing Panfilo the folly yesterday when I threw open the shutters to see, to my horror, a pile of cigarette butts outside the window. Imagine! This woman could set fire to the place. You have to find her, Luca, and make it soon. Enough of your romancing. Really, you should be taking stock after having put your children through such a terrible divorce, not throwing yourself into the arms of unsuitable girls.’

Luca deliberated which thoughtless statement he should address first. Then he felt the bulk of the engagement ring in his pocket and his intolerance evaporated. ‘Look, Mother,’ he said calmly. ‘I know who she is.’

‘You do?’ She threw up her arms. ‘How long have you known?’

‘A while.’

‘Who is she?’

‘That I can’t divulge. I need to speak to her first. But rest assured, she poses no threat to your safety.’

‘What a relief!’

He looked at his mother sternly. ‘On another note, my romancing, as you put it, has nothing to do with you. I’m old enough to choose my own girlfriend without you writing her off as unsuitable.’

‘But darling, you don’t have a very good track record.’

‘I think I’ve learned from my mistake.’

‘So you go from one extreme to the other. Cosima is a simple girl from a simple little town. She is not sophisticated enough for you. You need a woman who’s seen the world, not a provincial.’

‘I don’t think you know what I need,’ he replied, controlling his irritation.

‘I’m your mother. Of course I know what you need.’

He could only laugh at her delusion. ‘You never change!’

‘You’ll move on from Cosima, then find someone in the middle. Like Freya. Don’t pretend you aren’t a little in love with her. You were green with jealousy when she married Miles. She, too, has made a mistake. Now you can both leave your mistakes behind and start afresh together. The palazzo is big enough for six children.’

‘You’re dreaming.’

‘It’s only natural that I should want more grandchildren. If Bill had let me I would have had a dozen children of my own.’

‘Freya’s not for me, Mother.’

‘She’s always been for you. Sometimes the one you love is . . .’

‘Right beneath my nose,’ he said, finishing the cliché for her.

‘Exactly. Now her husband is straying it’s a good excuse for her to bail out.’

‘She loves Miles. Don’t you think she should try to win him back, for the sake of her children?’

‘That depends how far the rot has set in. Perhaps it is irreparable.’ She smiled mischievously. ‘When she sees you, she won’t want to win Miles back!’

‘I love Cosima,’ he stated firmly.

‘You think you love Cosima.’

‘No, Mother. I know I love Cosima.’ She opened her mouth but he silenced her. ‘Don’t even think about telling me how I should feel.’

She rolled her eyes. ‘Just don’t do anything rash. Take her to London first and see how she fits in. I think you’ll find she’s a fish out of water.’

But Luca didn’t have the will to argue his case. He didn’t need to. He had already made up his mind.





29



Freya, Rosemary and Fitz arrived in Incantellaria on a perfect sunny day. Romina had arranged for them to come in by boat in order to enjoy the sight of the medieval town from the sea, the way it was built to be seen. Fitz’s stomach churned with nerves. He hadn’t been back in thirty years. He didn’t even know whether Alba still lived there. Perhaps they had sold the family trattoria and moved away. Thirty years was a long time. He shrank at the thought of finding another restaurant in the place of Fiorelli’s. In his heart he wanted everything to be just as it was; even her.

He couldn’t confide in Rosemary. She had always been disdainful of Incantellaria, ever since he had told her about Alba and that she had tried to get him to follow her there. It had been Rosemary who had finally dissuaded him, and over the months that followed they had grown close. The only reason she had come now was because she didn’t want him to encounter his old love on his own. So, he didn’t communicate his longing. He could only hold on to the railing at the back of the boat and wait. Preparing himself for the worst, he envisaged nightclubs and smart boutiques, expensive hotels and a beach crowded with under-dressed, over-bejewelled Euro-trash.

Freya hadn’t told her mother about Miles’s affair. She didn’t want to worry her. But she had done as Luca had advised and confronted Miles. Of course he had denied it, accusing her of being paranoid, of not trusting him. But she was certain. The evidence weighed too heavily against him. The telephone calls, the texts she’d read on the sly, the evenings away playing bridge. She knew the woman’s name: Felicity Cranley. One of his regular bridge four. She wasn’t even very pretty. With the plane ticket to Naples in her handbag, she had given him an ultimatum. He had one chance. The next time she’d take the children with her and she wouldn’t come back. Miles had been stunned into silence.