Читать книгу Dante's Unexpected Legacy - CATHERINE GEORGE, Catherine George - Страница 11

CHAPTER THREE

WHEN THE CAB stopped outside Willow House the front door flew open while Rose was paying the driver, and a little girl dressed in jeans and T-shirt hurtled down the garden path with the tall figure of Tom Morley in hot pursuit. Rose abandoned her suitcase and swept her child up in her arms, kissing her all over her rosy, indignant face.

‘Where you been, Mummy?’ demanded Bea, struggling to get down. ‘You didn’t sleep in your bed for lots of nights!’

‘Only two nights, darling. Have you been a good girl?’

Beatrice Grace Palmer nodded happily. ‘Lots of times.’ She tugged on her mother’s hand. ‘Come on. Me and Gramma did baking.’

‘The cakes smell delicious, too,’ said Tom, taking charge of the suitcase. He kissed Rose’s cheek. ‘You look tired, pet.’

‘Only from travelling.’ Rose smiled as Grace Palmer appeared in the doorway, looking too youthful in jeans and jersey to be anyone’s grandmother. ‘Talking of tired, how’s Gramma?’

Grace hugged her daughter. ‘I’m just fine.’ She grinned triumphantly at Tom. ‘We coped very well, if I do say so myself.’

Rose allowed herself to be towed straight to the kitchen, where little iced cakes sat on a wire tray. ‘Look, Mummy,’ said Bea, bouncing in her little pink sneakers. ‘Fairy cakes!’

‘They look gorgeous. Let’s have them for pudding after our lunch, which is something delicious from the yummy smell coming from the oven.’

‘Nothing fancy, darling,’ said Grace. ‘I offered several menu suggestions to celebrate your return from foreign parts, but cottage pie won the majority vote. So come on, Bea. Let’s put the cakes away in the tin so we can lay the table, and we all need to wash before we eat.’

‘Bea and I will lay the table,’ said Tom, ‘and let Mummy wash first.’

‘Hurry up, Mummy,’ ordered Bea. ‘I’m hungry.’

‘I need another kiss,’ said Rose huskily, and picked her daughter up to hug her.

Bea obliged her with a smacking kiss. ‘I cried for you last night, so Gramma cuddled me.’

Rose blinked hard. ‘Then you were a lucky girl. Gramma’s the best at cuddling.’

Tom nodded in vigorous agreement over the curly fair head, winning a flushed, sparkling look from Grace as he took Bea from her mother. ‘Come on, Honey Bea. Let’s wash those paws.’

Rose hurried upstairs to her room and took a depressed look in the mirror as she hung up her clothes. Far from benefiting from her little holiday, she looked as weary and wan as she felt.

Lunch was a lively affair with much input from Bea about her activities in her mother’s absence. ‘I went to school all day yesterday, then to the park with Gramma and Tom.’

‘I bet they enjoyed that!’ said Rose, grinning.

‘We did,’ agreed Grace, and relieved her granddaughter of her plate. ‘What a star—you ate the vegetables, too. You liked that, darling?’

‘Yummy!’ said Bea, and gave Rose a smile exactly like her father’s. ‘Cake now?’

Rose waited expectantly, eyebrows raised.

‘Please!’ Bea beamed in triumph.

‘Good girl.’

After cakes had been devoured, Rose said casually, ‘I’d better find some things I bought in Florence.’

‘Where’s that?’ demanded Bea.

‘It’s a town near where Auntie Charlotte lives in Italy. I had to fly there on a plane. You can help me carry the parcels.’

Later that evening, after a rapturous Bea had tried on her new jeans and T-shirts, and the exquisite little dress that Rose hadn’t been able to resist, the child was finally tucked up in bed with her new cuddly Pinocchio before Rose could finally relax over supper with her mother and Tom and give details of her trip. She told Charlotte’s tale with care, not sure how much she was supposed to divulge to Tom.

‘Good God!’ He eyed Rose in disbelief as she finished. ‘Charlotte finally got you there, only to take off somewhere else?’

Grace put a hand on his arm. ‘No harm done, love. Rose had her first real break since Bea was born, and hopefully she was able to enjoy it, knowing that her baby girl was safe with us.’

He frowned. ‘But the fact remains that Charlotte stranded Rose alone in a strange country while she went swanning off to New York with Fabio. How did you manage, pet?’

Rose braced herself. ‘Charlotte asked Dante Fortinari to deliver a letter to the hotel to brief me. You remember him from the wedding, Tom?’

‘Of course I do. Charming fellow—got married shortly after Charlotte.’

‘But his wife left him pretty quickly, stupid woman,’ said Grace, eyeing her daughter. ‘You got on with him very well at the wedding, I seem to remember.’

Rose nodded. ‘He was great fun.’

Tom shook his head in disapproval. ‘I shall have words with my daughter next time she rings. Now, tell me why she was so determined to get you to Florence. Lord knows she’s asked you often enough before, so what made this occasion so different?’

‘Tom,’ said Grace gently, ‘perhaps Rose thinks Charlotte should tell you that.’

Rose sighed. ‘I do, but on the other hand, Tom, if it’s going to worry you it’s pointless to keep you in the dark.’ She recounted Charlotte’s suspicions about Fabio, followed by her remorse afterwards when she discovered the truth. ‘Fabio insisted I should stay at the hotel anyway, all expenses paid.’

Grace shook her head in wonder. ‘How on earth could Charlotte suspect Fabio of straying? The man adores her!’

‘And spoils her far more than I ever did,’ said Tom and raised an eyebrow at Rose. ‘So where does Fortinari come into this?’

‘He volunteered to show me round Florence.’ Rose smiled brightly. ‘Which was kind. I would have been a bit lost on my own.’

‘I should damn well think you would.’ Tom got up to hold out his hand to Grace. ‘Come on, love, we must let this girl get to bed. She looks done in.’

‘I could stay, if you like, Rose, and get up with Bea if she’s wakeful tonight?’ her mother offered.

‘Absolutely not,’ said Rose, laughing. ‘You’ve done more than enough, both of you. Though I’m afraid I’ll need you tomorrow afternoon for a couple of hours, Mum, if you can? A client got in touch while I was away so I’m driving to see her.’

‘Of course.’ Grace kissed her daughter good-night, and thanked her again for the presents. ‘You shouldn’t have been so extravagant.’

Rose smiled. ‘Dante got a far better price for them than I would have done, and in any case it was Fabio’s money.’

‘Then we’ll both enjoy our booty free of guilt,’ said Tom, eyes twinkling.

* * *

Later Rose checked on her sleeping child, longing to kiss the rosy cheek but too tired to risk waking her up. Yawning, she went next door to her own room, glad to crawl into bed. It had been an odd sort of holiday. The stay in Florence had been too short, the air travel too tiring and her taste of the dolce vita with Dante too unsettling. It would take effort to knuckle down to routine again. Not that she had a choice. And though most people, like Dante, thought her job boring, her travels to meet with clients made it far less so than being confined to an office all day. As she reached to turn out the light her phone rang.

‘Rose?’ said a husky, unmistakable voice.

She sat bolt upright. ‘Dante!’

‘Did all go well on your journey?’

‘It did, and now I’m back where I belong.’

‘I do not agree with that,’ he said, surprising her. ‘In Firenze you belonged there. I shall be in London soon and will drive to see you.’

Rose was about to veto the idea when Dante went on without pausing.

‘Now I know you are safe I will let you sleep. Buonanotte, Rose.’

‘Good night. Thanks for ringing,’ she said politely.

His chuckle sent tremors down her spine. ‘You knew that I would. Ciao.’

Rose switched off the light and slid down in the bed, but thanks to Dante’s call she was no longer tired. The mere sound of his voice had conjured up not only his goodbye kiss but all her doubts and fears about keeping his daughter secret from him. But he had no legal right to claim Bea as his daughter, she reassured herself with a resurgence of the old resentment. His sole contribution to her existence was a fleeting episode of sexual pleasure before he’d returned to the fiancée he’d neglected to mention.

* * *

When Bea had been dropped off at nursery school the next morning Rose got down to work right away to make up for lost time. Usually she did some household chores before settling at her desk, but Grace had left the house in remarkably immaculate condition for someone in charge of a lively child. Rose sighed. In the beginning, after Bea was born, she had tried hard to transform herself from slapdash student into perfect mother, housekeeper and eventual wage earner. She’d learned the hard way to get her priorities right. As long as Bea was happy, clean and well fed Rose took her mother’s advice and kept her brief spells of spare time for taking the baby for walks, or resting while Bea napped. The chores could wait until Rose had time and energy to spare for them. Or, said Grace, she could accept money to pay for a little help in the house.

Rose switched on her computer, smiling at the memory of her indignation at the suggestion. She’d been so determined to be the most efficient single parent it was possible to be. And if she was sometimes desperate for a good night’s sleep, or to be out clubbing or shopping with girlfriends again, or even just taking a walk without pushing a buggy, she never admitted it to a soul. She sighed irritably and settled down to work in the brief window of time before she collected her daughter.

Bea’s face lit up when she saw her mother waiting for her. ‘Mummy! You came today.’

‘Of course I did.’ Rose took her leave of the young teacher and held Bea’s hand. ‘I told you I would.’

‘You didn’t come yesterday.’

‘I was away, so I asked Gramma and Tom to fetch you.’

Bea nodded as she was buckled into her car seat. ‘They fetched me lots of times.’

‘Only two times, darling.’

Bea looked unconvinced by the maths. ‘Are you going to work today?’

‘Yes, but only for a little while this afternoon. Gramma will stay with you and I’ll be home in time for tea. And tomorrow it’s Saturday and we can go to the park.’

* * *

Rose was soon so firmly entrenched in her usual routine again it was hard to believe the trip to Florence had ever happened until Charlotte rang to grovel with apologies and demand every detail of Rose’s taste of la dolce vita.

Rose brushed that aside. ‘Did you ask Dante Fortinari to show me round, Charlotte?’

‘Certainly not. I just asked him to deliver your letter by hand because there was cash in it.’ Charlotte paused. ‘Though Dante seemed pretty keen on meeting up with you again.’

‘He was very kind,’ said Rose colourlessly. ‘And,’ she added with more bite, ‘I would have been a bit lost in Florence if he hadn’t turned up.’

‘I know, I know,’ said Charlotte remorsefully. ‘But if Dante looked after you it all worked out in the end.’

‘As did your problem,’ Rose pointed out. ‘You were mad to think Fabio would cheat on you!’

‘Hormonal, not mad.’ Charlotte drew in an audible breath. ‘I behaved like a total idiot because—wait for the roll of drums—I’m pregnant at last.’

Rose gave a screech of delight. ‘Oh, Charlotte, how wonderful. I’m so happy for you. Have you told your father?’

‘No. I’ll ring him right away now I’ve told you. I waited until I was absolutely sure before spreading the glad news. I didn’t even tell Fabio until we were in New York.’

‘But surely he was wondering?’

‘Of course he was, but I’ve been late before so he was afraid to say a word, especially because I’d been a bit standoffish with him due to my crazy suspicions. But now I’m so happy I don’t even mind the morning sickness part—at least not too much.’ Charlotte came to a halt. ‘So, Rose, are you still mad at me?’

‘For giving me a luxury, all-expenses-paid holiday in one of the most beautiful cities in the world? No, Signora Vilari, I’m not. Now, hurry up and ring Tom so I can share the glad news with Mum.’

* * *

Once the excitement about Charlotte’s news had died down Rose was soon back in her usual dual role of mother and businesswoman, until Dante rang one morning to say he would be with her the next day to take her out to dinner. She stiffened her resolve and told him that she was working and wouldn’t be available.

‘Is this true, Rose, or do you mean you have no wish to see me?’

She sighed. ‘All right, I’m not working, but I think it’s best we don’t see each other again.’

There was silence on the line for a moment. ‘I frightened you with my kiss?’

‘Of course not. The thing is, Dante, I’m grateful for the time you took to show me round Florence, but it was just a one-off kind of thing.’

‘You are refusing to see me any more?’ he demanded, his voice hard.

‘Yes. I am. You live in Italy and I live here, so it would be pointless, anyway.’

‘Allora, you have not forgiven me.’

‘For what, exactly?’ she snapped.

‘For making love to you and then leaving you so suddenly that night.’

‘Oh, that. No forgiveness necessary. These things happen.’

‘If not that, then I demand to know what is wrong, Rose.’

‘Do you, indeed! Goodbye, Dante.’ Rose switched off her phone and slumped down on the sofa, determined not to cry. She’d done enough crying over Dante Fortinari in the past. But no matter how hard she tried to control them, the tears came pouring down her face just the same and she had to do some hasty face scrubbing in case Bea saw Mummy crying.

Grace popped in later for coffee and frowned when she saw Rose’s swollen eyes. ‘Darling, what’s wrong?’

‘Dante rang. He wanted to take me out to dinner tomorrow.’

‘But that’s good, surely, not something to cry about?’

Rose sniffed inelegantly. ‘I turned him down.’

Grace stared at her blankly. ‘Why?’ Her eyes narrowed suddenly. ‘This is about Bea, isn’t it?’

‘What...what do you mean?’

‘You don’t want him to know about her. Bea’s not a dark secret, darling—it’s time you got that idea out of your system.’

Rose’s heart settled back into place again. ‘You’re right. Lord knows, my situation is hardly unusual. I saw the percentages of single parent families in the headlines on my computer only this morning.’

‘And, as one of them, you do brilliantly, darling.’

‘Ah, but I wouldn’t be without help from you and Tom. And,’ Rose added with sudden passion, ‘don’t ever think I forget that, not for a minute.’

‘I don’t. So why not ring Dante back and say you’ve changed your mind? We’ll have Bea for a sleepover and keep her out of the way if that would make things easier for you?’