“Don’t tell me, Dante. He’s dead now. He can’t hurt anyone ever again. And you have found my son. Our son.”
“All the time you were looking for him, he was looking for you.”
“And he found me. I just didn’t know it.”
Dante grinned. “There is a small slice of justice, however.”
“What’s that?”
“My father entrusted his whole life to Zazzetta. He did everything for him. Therefore, it was easy to take money from my father to pay Lorenzo Santoro in Argentina and Katherine Bridges in England. So, you see, my father financed your new life and our son’s without ever knowing.”
“And here we are, after all these years, reunited. That is justice, God’s way.”
36.
You’re Marina’s son, aren’t you?” asked Clementine. Rafa nodded. “Why didn’t you tell her?”
“Because I wasn’t sure it was her. The only information I had was a letter signed ‘Floriana,’ a bracelet, a ring, and the box of personal items belonging to Father Ascanio, my father’s brother, sent out after he died.”
“Father Ascanio was your uncle?”
“Yes. I’m Italian Argentine, don’t forget.” He walked over to the suitcase and pulled out a file. “Here are the letters. There are countless ones from Costanza in Rome, written to my uncle in Herba, begging to know Floriana’s whereabouts, and letters to Floriana which she asks him to forward. Of course, he never did, for here they are, bundled up with a half-written letter to Floriana that he wrote but never sent.
“It gave me my first lead. You see, he mentions Beach Compton, a little seaside town here on the coast, so that is where I started my search. I knew she was about seventeen when she left Italy, so I presumed she would have gone to school. There is only one school in the town, and the old headmistress still lives there. However, Floriana didn’t go to school, but the headmistress knew her foster mother, Katherine Bridges, well, for she had taught English there and they had become friends. She remembered Floriana, although of course she wasn’t called Floriana. That’s why I couldn’t be sure. And when I met her, she was so English, she wasn’t at all what I was expecting.”
“Did you find Katherine Bridges?”
“She married and moved to Canada fifteen years ago.”
“I never even knew she existed. Do you think she kept her hidden away on purpose?”
“Possibly.”
“So how did you find Marina here?”
“The headmistress, Christine Black, keeps scrapbooks on everything. She showed me a magazine article on the Polzanze, written not long after it was opened.”
“So, why are you leaving?”
He rubbed his temples. “Clementine, does Marina really want the past dug up? Does she want Grey to know her secret? Does Dante even know she had his child? She returned to Italy to save the Polzanze, not to unearth painful memories. Perhaps I’m a painful memory she would rather not remember.”
There was a knock on the door. Clementine huffed irritably; she didn’t welcome the intrusion. She was surprised when her father peered around the door.
“Rafa, will you come over to the stable block? There’s someone I think you ought to meet.”
Rafa glanced at Clementine, who raised her eyebrows, as baffled as he. Grey saw the open suitcase on the bed, but said nothing. They followed him down the stairs, past reception, where Rose was watching the mysterious comings and goings with curiosity, and across to the stable block, where Jake had now joined them.
Rafa noticed the Alfa Romeo on the gravel and the driver in uniform who was proudly polishing the bonnet. He did not expect to see Dante. When he entered, the sitting room fell quiet. The air grew suddenly still. Dante and Marina stood up. Rafa could see that Marina had been crying. He realized then that she knew who he was, and the relief was unexpected.
She looked at him with such tenderness that he was caught off guard. “My son,” she said.
Rafa was too overwhelmed to reply. He had suspected she was his mother, then in Italy all doubt had been erased—and yet, hearing it said out loud made it real.
He looked at Dante. “Mio figlio,” he said, and reached out his hand.
“You came looking for me?” Marina whispered as she moved hesitantly towards him. All he could do was nod dumbly as the two people who had brought him into the world wrapped their arms around him.
“So, you’re not Baffles, the gentleman thief?” asked Jake, finding the intensity of emotion intolerable.
Rafa laughed. “Of course not.”
“Then what were you doing in Marina’s room?”