Freya was enchanted by Incantellaria and the palazzo. She could see why Luca hadn’t wanted to return to London. Surrounded by such harmony she would be the same. She wished she had been able to bring her children with her. How they would love the fairytale palace and the pretty town.
When Luca heard the cars on the gravel he went to the front to greet the new arrivals.
‘Luca!’ Freya climbed out of the car and rushed over, arms wide. Romina smiled. The boy didn’t know what was good for him. ‘You look so well!’ Freya gushed. ‘You’re brown and relaxed! The rest has done you the world of good.’
‘It will do you the power of good too. A little sunbathing by the pool, walks along the beach, time to think . . .’ He didn’t want to spoil her arrival by telling her about Cosima. He’d find the right moment. He was sure she’d be happy for him.
‘I’m so pleased you encouraged me to come out,’ she said, linking her arm through his. ‘Miles couldn’t believe it. I think he’s still in shock.’
‘He deserves more than shock.’
‘A few days away is just what I need to get my head straight. I’ve had a ghastly time of it, I really have.’
‘Let’s go and have something to drink. I want to introduce you to two very dear friends of mine.’
‘Oh?’ She looked up at him, forgetting all about her children and her philandering husband in the warmth of his attention.
‘Then I’ll show you around.’
Outside, Ma, Nanni and Caradoc sat chatting on the terrace while Porci slept on the tiles in the sunshine, his belly round in spite of his apparent lack of appetite. The men stood up politely for Freya, but Ma remained in her seat, too sleepy and fat to move.
‘This is the in-crowd of Incantellaria. Here’s where it’s all at,’ said Luca, grinning broadly. ‘My uncle Nanni, eccentric bringer of the pig: Professor Caradoc Macausland, the wisest man in Christendom; and Ma Hemple, possibly the grumpiest woman this side of Naples.’
Ma extended her hand. ‘He’s so wrong about me. I’m by far the most good-natured person here. He just doesn’t understand my sense of humour. Too many years working in a bank with Sloanosauruses’
Freya giggled. ‘I can tell he’s wrong about you, Ma.’
‘It’s a pleasure to meet another pretty girl,’ said Caradoc.
‘The professor has a keen eye for the ladies,’ Luca explained.
‘I have a lovely girl down at the trattoria. She’s called Rosa and she’s as lovely as a spring rose.’
‘She’s a tart,’ Ma corrected. ‘Caradoc can’t tell the difference.’
‘At our age we don’t really care,’ said Nanni, recalling Fiyona’s white flesh and red pubic hair. ‘We’ll take what we’re given.’
‘Look who’s here!’ Romina called to her husband.
‘What a stunning place you have, Bill,’ said Rosemary, marching over to kiss him.
‘We’ve done our best.’
‘You’ve done better than your best,’ Fitz corrected, remembering what it had been like as a ruin. Most of the balustrade had collapsed and the tiles had been so covered with moss and weeds as to be entirely hidden. A putrid stench had poisoned the air; now he felt the garden restore him. It smelt sweet, of cut grass, pine and gardenia. He inhaled, expanding his chest like a peacock, taking pleasure from stepping back into the past.
Ventura and a butler brought out wine and crostini and they sat chatting. Ma took an instant dislike to Rosemary, which wasn’t a surprise; Ma disliked pretentiousness. Rosemary was out of her comfort zone and felt inadequate. She was better on home soil and among her own sort. Foreigners made her feel uneasy, as did people who felt happy around them. Although Fitz hadn’t mentioned Incantellaria in thirty years, and had barely raised an eyebrow when Bill and Romina had invited them to stay, there was something about his silence, as if he were hiding in it. She wasn’t jealous of Alba; after all Rosemary was his wife, but Incantellaria was a part of Fitz’s past that she had no claim on, so she was automatically suspicious of the place. But Fitz had wanted to come, he was keen to see what Romina and Bill had done to their home, and she couldn’t let him walk down memory lane on his own.
Ma took to Fitz on sight. It wasn’t just that he was handsome; he was genuine. There was no pretence in Fitz. He pulled Porci on to his lap and nuzzled him. The little pig grunted with pleasure, exposing his tummy which Fitz duly scratched. He was enthusiastic about everything, even Ma’s sense of humour, which was rare so soon after meeting her, and she didn’t mind that he gently teased her. In fact, she rather liked it.