The Mermaid Garden(163)

It grieves me greatly to inform you that Father Severo, who I have trusted for over fifteen years, overheard my conversation with Dante and let slip our secret to your father. He has confessed and is full of remorse. I felt it only right that he should leave Herba.

Trust me, my dear child, when I tell you that your little boy has been given to the most loving couple and will be brought up in the Catholic faith by an Italian family. You have given him the best possible start in life by your sacrifice. God knows what it has cost you, and I pray that He comforts you as you settle into your new home.

I gather Beach Compton is on the sea. I hope you are able to make a fresh start there. Miss Bridges is a kind and godly woman, who I’m sure is taking good care of you. You have great inner strength and a strong, solid faith. Keep God in your sight and in your heart, and you will put this all behind you.

As for me


He had stopped there. Only now did she understand the lengths that Father Ascanio had gone to in order to save her. He had sent her son to his own brother in Argentina, the only person he trusted to look after him properly. He couldn’t have found a better home had he scoured the earth for one. He had put his own life at risk. Now she knew why: for love.

She closed the letter and replaced it in the envelope, saddened that Father Ascanio was no longer alive so that she could thank him. Then she took the bundle of letters Costanza had written and read them one by one, surprised by the extent to which her heart ached for her old friend.


The following morning Harvey appeared at the Polzanze. While Dante breakfasted in the dining room with Grey, Clementine, and Rafa, Marina summoned him into her office.

“I need to talk to you, Harvey,” she said solemnly.

“Is everything all right?”

“I think you should sit down.” She perched on the armchair and watched him sink into the sofa, her old friend and confidant, the man who had been almost a father to her. She couldn’t believe he was capable of lying. She wanted him to explain it all away. She was ready to believe any excuse he tossed her.

“I tried to call you yesterday at the nursing home.”

He looked surprised. “You did?”

“They said they had never heard of a Mrs. Dovecote.”

“You must have got the wrong home.”

“No, Harvey. I know.” She gazed at him sadly.

He averted his eyes. “What do you know?” But she could tell from his grave features that he realized he had been found out.

“I know about your shed.” She lowered her voice. “You’re Baffles, or Raffles, or whatever you call yourself. Harvey, how could you lie to me?”

He turned to her, his face full of remorse. “I did it for you, Marina, for the Polzanze. When I saw you were in real danger of losing it, I decided I had to do something to help. I know how much this place means to you. I feared if you lost it, you’d lose your mind.”

“Oh, Harvey.”

He shrugged. “So, I got a little carried away.”

“A little?”

“The Jag was secondhand. I got it for peanuts.”

“Do you even have a nephew?”

He shook his head.

“Or a mother?”

“No, she died years ago.”

“But, Harvey, you could go to prison for this.”

“I thought I’d only do it once. But it was too easy. So I did it again … and again. I admit it was fun. Macavity the Mystery Cat. I defied them all.” He grinned roguishly. “It gave me a buzz to think of buying you out of your problems. Old Harvey, creeping into people’s properties like James Bond.”

“Or Raffles.”

“I’ve always loved those novels. It began as a game.”

“But the game has gone too far.”

He looked at her wretchedly. “What are you going to do, Marina?”

“I should call the police.”

“But you wouldn’t turn in an old codger, would you? I’ll die in there.”

Marina stiffened her jaw and lifted her chin. The thought of being without Harvey caused something to twist painfully inside her chest. She stood up and walked over to the window. She had lost too much in her life to suffer losing him. “I won’t turn you in, Harvey. But on one condition.”

“What’s that? I’ll do anything.”

“You have to give it all back.” His mouth opened in a silent gasp. “If it was so easy, you can do it again. It has to go back, all of it.”

“But what about the Polzanze?”

“Ah, yes, you don’t know, do you?” She sat down again. “A lot has happened since you’ve been away. Goodness, where do I start?”





37.


Sylvia sat at her desk and gazed forlornly at the empty chair beside her. Clementine had come into the office on August 31 to pack up her things and say good-bye, which had been the arrangement from the beginning, as Polly was due back from maternity leave on September 1. Only now, none of them wanted her to go. She had turned out to be the most efficient secretary—and a good friend to Sylvia. Mr. Atwood had offered her an obscene amount of money to stay on, but she had declined. After all, what sort of woman would put money above a six-month trip around South America with the man of her dreams?