“Trying to find proof that she was my mother.”
“And did you?” Marina asked.
“No. Just a poem. ‘My Marine Marina.’”
“Ah, wrong box. That was how I got my name. I chose it out of Katherine Bridges’s book of poems that was on my bedside table when I arrived in Beach Compton. Of course, I didn’t understand it, speaking no English, but Marina is also an Italian name from mare, meaning sea. The sea was the only thing I could find that England had in common with Italy, so I chose it as my name and tore it out to keep. Let me get the right box and show you how I clung to your memory all these years.”
She left the room and hurried upstairs. Her heart was so light she could feel it bouncing in her chest like a big helium balloon.
Rafa sat beside his father, still holding the file he had been showing Clementine. Now he showed Dante. “There was no mention of you anywhere in my uncle’s file,” he told him. “But I’m glad I’ve found you, too.”
Dante withdrew a little velvet pouch and peered inside. There, glittering through the dark, was the diamond ring he had given Floriana, and the charm bracelet from his mother. He turned the ring over in his fingers, remembering the night he had given it to her, beneath the stars overlooking the sea. He had once thought they’d grow old together.
“Now that I know who you are, I can see you have Marina’s eyes,” said Jake.
“Good God, I think you’re right,” Grey agreed. “I can’t think why we didn’t notice before. The resemblance is startling.”
“And my coloring, not that you can see because I’m now so gray,” Dante added.
“I never thought you were Baffles.” Clementine smiled at him affectionately. He grinned at her and allowed his eyes to linger before Marina returned with an old shoebox, and he had to tear them away.
She knelt in front of the sofa and opened the lid. The contents no longer afflicted her with guilt. Like grenades, they had been defused. “These are small treasured things from our brief time together. A photo of you the Mother Superior took.” She lifted it out and stared at it, amazed that the little baby in the photograph now sat before her as a man. “There, you see how sweet you were. And your blanket.” She pressed it to her nose then pulled out an envelope. “A lock of your hair. Look how blond you were. You had such fine, silky hair. Silly things,” she said dismissively, feeling foolish as she rummaged about with trembling fingers. “But they were all I had.” She lifted out a wad of letters tied with the pink ribbon with which Violetta had wrapped her birthday present. “And these, how I treasured these.” She caught Dante’s eye and smiled wistfully.
“What did you call me?” Rafa asked.
“You were christened Dante.”
He looked down at his buckle. “Well, that has always been my middle name. Rafael Dante Santoro. R.D.S. When you introduced me to Dante in Italy, everything fell into place. It was then that I knew where I came from. But I wasn’t sure I could go through with telling you. I wasn’t sure you’d want to know. I wasn’t sure I wanted to know—I hadn’t anticipated feeling a sense of rejection. But now I know the truth, I understand why I was given up. I understand that you were given no choice.”
There were so many questions Marina wanted to ask, she didn’t know where to begin. So she took his hand and asked him the one question that had worried her more than any other. “Have you had a happy life?”
He smiled down at her. “Very,” he replied.
“I am also here for another purpose,” said Dante.
“What more could there possibly be?” Jake asked, weary of yet more revelations.
“I would like to invest in your hotel.” Marina looked at Rafa and pulled a face. “Yes, Rafa told me before you came down to breakfast. Don’t be cross. I asked him why you had come, and he told me. I respect you for not having asked, but now let me make you an offer.”
“I’m embarrassed,” she said, replacing the lid on the box.
“There is nothing wrong with loving a place and doing all you can to hold on to it. I love La Magdalena and would fight with all my resources to keep it, were I in danger of losing it. Let me do this for you, because I can.” He smiled at her fondly. “And because I want to.”
She nodded in resignation, secretly pleased, for all their sakes. “Then I will hand you over to my husband,” she said, pushing herself up from the floor. “Grey understands the finances better than I do. Why don’t you talk business with him while I go and arrange lunch? I suggest we all eat together. One big family.” She looked around. “Where’s Harvey? Has anyone seen Harvey this morning?”