‘My darling Romina!’ he exclaimed, striding on to the terrace in a pair of scruffy beige trousers and a creased blue shirt. ‘Every time I see the palazzo it is grander and more exquisite. What it is to have a good eye and a lot of money.’ Nanni, of course, had neither.
Luca hadn’t seen his uncle for many years but Nanni embraced him as if he were still a boy. ‘Madonna! How you’ve grown.’
‘You sound like Mother.’
‘That’s hardly a surprise, we come from the same womb.’ Nanni sat down and helped himself to a bread roll. ‘Might I have a little butter?’ he asked Ventura. ‘And a large glass of wine.’ He already knew Ma and Caradoc. The three of them were like a circus act.
The children appeared, chaperoned by Sammy, who wore a sarong over her bathing suit. Nanni adored children but was less at ease with young women. He ran his watery eyes over Sammy’s lovely figure and felt the sweat gather on his forehead in large beads. To cover his embarrassment, he turned his attention to the children, and soon had them laughing at his funny imitations and silly voices. Porci, who had taken a shine to the girls, snuffled and grunted around them, competing with their great-uncle for attention. Sammy disappeared inside to change for lunch and emerged a little later in a sundress. Nanni recovered his composure and after he had tucked into all four courses he sat in the shade doing the Times crossword with a large glass of limoncello and a cigarette.
‘The trouble is,’ Romina confided to Ma as they sipped peppermint tea, ‘my dear brother has a brilliant mind but a terrible weakness for alcohol and gluttony. He could have been a great man writing film scripts for the best Italian cinema, but he’s indolent and self-indulgent. Now he is old, it is too late. Look at him, that crossword bores him, it’s so easy, and English is not even his first language. He can speak ancient Greek and Latin as well as he speaks Italian, Spanish, French and English, and yet he hasn’t two pennies to rub together.’
‘I bet he used to be very handsome,’ said Ma.
‘He was divine, like a Greek god. But now he’s grown fat and has lost most of his hair. He’s nearly seventy; if he doesn’t watch out he won’t make seventy-one.’
‘What does he do with his time?’
‘Collects antique games. He has the largest collection of Tudor playing cards in the world. They’re worth a fortune, but he won’t sell them. He keeps them somewhere secret. He’s paranoid someone’s going to break in and rob him.’ Romina finished her tea. ‘Now, where’s my darling Porci? He’s as round as a football but isn’t eating his food. I can’t understand it.’
‘Let’s go to the folly,’ said Nanni, putting down the paper.
‘Have you finished that crossword, or shall I help you?’ said Ma.
‘I’m afraid I’ve finished. Perhaps you can check it for me to make sure I haven’t made any mistakes?’ There was a twinkle in his eye. Nanni didn’t make mistakes.
‘It would be a pleasure,’ Ma retorted. ‘But first I’ll come with you to the folly. I can’t sit on my behind all day or it will lose its shape.’
The three of them sauntered down the path to the little stone folly. Nanni breathed in the floral scents of the garden and sighed. ‘You live in a paradise, Romina. I’d be happy to lie down one day and die amidst such peace and beauty.’
‘Be my guest, Nanni, but do us all a favour and lie on something we can carry!’ Romina unlocked the door.
Ma and Nanni followed her, their eyes adjusting to the darkness. ‘Perhaps I will lie down in here,’ he said. ‘Though it looks like someone has already had the same idea.’
Romina ran her hand over the quilt, still imprinted with the shape of the intruder. ‘Not again!’
‘Just like Goldilocks,’ said Ma.
Romina threw up her hands. ‘This isn’t funny any more. Someone has a key, or steals my key, to get in here. But who?’
Nanni picked up a silk scarf. ‘What’s this?’ It smelled of perfume. Romina snatched it and held it up to the light.
‘This isn’t mine.’
‘Nor mine,’ Ma added. ‘Pale pink and blue are not my colours.’
‘It smells of a woman,’ said Romina, narrowing her eyes. ‘Dizzy?’
‘Well, they left this morning. So, we’ll soon find out if it doesn’t happen again.’
‘Could they have been so devious?’ Romina turned the scarf over, looking for a label. ‘Well, it’s an Italian label. MOM.’
Ma shrugged. ‘I’ve never been very good at brand names.’