“But how can I afford to run a house?”
“You will have the rent from two lodgers – me and Nain Jones. We’ll manage the house for you while you’re in Rome, and make sure that all the bills are paid.”
The shock was absorbed slowly, the gift was accepted gratefully and its significance sank in. The children were too overwhelmed to go to bed. Lucy lay back on the sofa and dropped her stick onto the floor beside her. She tried to imagine what it would be like to stay in one place for years and years, with no more escapes and trials and foster homes.
David went to the kitchen. He was feeling doubly happy because, earlier on, Great-Uncle Mario had been explaining about investments to him. “I can show you how to make your fifty pounds grow and grow,” he had said. “And, if you promise me you will never sacrifice your integrity for money, you can come to me in Rome when you’re eighteen, and I will teach you how to become a successful businessman.”
Lucy watched David as he came back with leftover sandwiches and hot chocolate and passed the tray around. She could feel his happiness. He really was the most handsome boy she had ever seen, now that he’d grown out his dyed-black hair. And he was the cleverest and bravest and nicest – as well as Paul, of course.
Great-Uncle Mario declined the sandwiches and asked if he could have another glass of port.
“A slightly bigger one this time,” he said, as Gwen opened the bottle.
Everyone was busy with their own thoughts. Dorothy was back on her window seat gazing out towards the street. She didn’t see the figure lurking in the doorway of the house on the corner. All she saw were the reflected colours of the room behind her and the blazing fire, and the peaceful faces of her family.
The evening slipped gently away. Lucy looked round the sleepy room. Her leg was aching, but she hardly noticed. Dorothy was studying her Deed of Gift, and the boys were clearing Lego off the floor. Nonna was quietly closing the flap of her bureau, and Nain had set aside her book. Great-Uncle Mario sat sipping his port, but his eyes were closed.
Could there be any greater happiness than this, wondered Lucy. She pulled herself up off the sofa and limped over to her grandmother. Gwen looked up and smiled. Lucy bent down and put her arms around her and kissed her soft cheek.
Paul climbed up onto the window seat next to Dorothy. Cupping his hands to exclude the reflection, he peered through them into the street. There was nothing to be seen but the grey shapes and shadows of trees and houses, and a dark figure with a funny walk making its way down the hill.
He hummed quietly to himself until the figure disappeared.
The Big House Page 29