The two women sat down, and Imogen looked Evie directly in the eye. ‘You’ve heard enough about my love life over the past couple of years. Yet you’ve never told me anything about your own.’
‘Oh, Imogen,’ Evie said, smiling. ‘There’s a good reason for that. I’m in my seventies. There isn’t a lot to tell.’
‘But does it have to be like that?’
‘I’m better on my own,’ Evie said. ‘I’m a stubborn old mule, me. I’m used to my own way of doing things now. I know what I want.’
‘But couldn’t that work to your advantage?’ Imogen enquired gently. ‘Not knowing what I want from life is constantly tripping me up. But you, you know so much about what you want, and yet you’ve just resigned yourself to being alone.’
‘You’re not going to talk to me about internet dating, are you? I’ve heard that’s what everyone does these days, but, believe me, there are some things I’m absolutely sure I’m too old for.’
Imogen shook her head. ‘No. I’m not,’ she laughed. ‘I’m sure you’d go down a storm, but, no, that’s not it.’
‘Well, what, then?’
‘You always say that no one knew you like my grandma, don’t you? That she could almost speak for you, she knew you that well.’
‘Yes. That’s true. We went through everything together.’
‘Did you know anything about this?’
Imogen passed her the letter Vivien had received, along with Luigi’s photo.
‘Vivien . . .’ Evie said, her voice affectionate and irritated at the same time. ‘She always was mischief, your grandma.’
‘Tell me about him,’ Imogen prompted her, gently.
‘Luigi?’ She looked at his photo. ‘He was the only man I ever really loved.’
Evie’s face softened as she spoke, and the fine lines around her eyes disappeared.
‘He looks the same, you know. More grey in his hair, but the same eyes – you couldn’t mistake those.’
‘How did you meet him?’ Imogen asked.
‘I was touring the Amalfi coast on my own, just me and my moped, a year after I first went there with Vivien. I was forty-five. Old enough to know better, some might say. But I’d saved my pennies all year to pay for the trip, and there was nothing to stop me. Your grandfather was getting ill then, so Vivien couldn’t get away – she didn’t want to, she had everything she wanted in her world here. But travel was always a passion for me; it was what kept me motivated through the long winters in Brighton, looking forward to trips abroad.’
Imogen nodded for her to continue talking.
‘He wasn’t the kind of man I’d ever gone for before, but, when I met Luigi, I knew I’d been right not to settle for anyone earlier on in life. I’d had offers, but no one I wanted to share my life with, make the sacrifices that come hand in hand with being married. But with Luigi it felt different. We clicked right away. I felt like he understood everything I said. We didn’t need to explain things to one another.
‘We got to know each other quickly there, over in Italy, and I extended my stay, getting a friend to mind the shop back home. Your grandmother was surprised at first, I think, but very happy for me, too – I told her I’d explain it all when I got back.’
‘You fell in love?’ Imogen asked.
‘Yes. And I felt on top of the world. But that was just the start, before we realised that, in order to be together, we’d have to hurt some of the people Luigi cared about most.’
‘Why was that?’
‘How are you doing for tea?’ Evie asked, peering into Imogen’s cup.
‘Nearly done,’ she said.
‘Let’s have a top-up. Because this is a long one.’
Evie settled back into her chair and began telling the story.
‘Luigi’s life was complicated, and I knew that from the start. He’d been married to his childhood sweetheart, a woman from a well-loved local family. They had two young children. Then his wife died at just thirty-four. He was devastated, and so was his whole family – they’d all been devoted to her.’
‘Sounds like it would have been difficult to live up to that memory.’
‘Exactly, and that’s why we decided to keep it a secret. I knew who his family were – I saw them around town, it wasn’t a big place – but they had no idea I was part of Luigi’s life.’
‘That must have been hard.’
‘When you’re in your forties, fifties, beyond, you accept that most relationships are going to come with some baggage, something extra to handle, and I understood why he made the choice he was making. We agreed that, if things worked out, in time, we would tell people – but he was really close to his daughter, and he didn’t want her to think he was betraying the memory of her mother.’
‘Then what happened? When you had to come home?’
‘I came back to this rainy country, missing him desperately but hoping that after a few weeks the memories would fade and I’d be able to move on with my life. But I couldn’t stop thinking about him.’
‘Did you stay in touch?’
‘Yes, we’d write. And the next summer I took a chance and went back over there.’
‘How was it – seeing him again?’
‘It was wonderful,’ Evie said. ‘But, as the week drew to a close, his daughter started to ask questions about me. We decided together that he had to put his family first, concentrate on raising his children. So, after that trip, I never went back.’
‘And you never wondered?’
‘Oh, I’ve wondered every day,’ Evie said. ‘And your poor grandmother got the brunt of it. Which is what got her started with this meddling, I suspect.’
Chapter 38
Matteo and Anna had agreed that she’d stay at home with Bella while he waited for more news on his sister’s condition. But Anna couldn’t stop thinking of the way he’d sounded on the phone – his voice cut through with desperation and pain. Just after nine in the evening, Anna had a change of heart. She needed to be with him. She called Maria and asked her to babysit, and then got a taxi to the hospital on her own.
She walked the sterile corridors, looking out for Matteo. The first she saw was Elisa, cradled in Matteo’s arms, the two of them sitting on plastic waiting-room chairs. Her usually strong, determined face was creased with anxiety, and Matteo was holding her so tight it wasn’t really clear who was supporting whom.
‘Anna,’ her mother-in-law said. ‘You’re here.’
Anna bent to kiss her and then hugged Matteo. ‘I couldn’t bear to wait at home. I’m so sorry.’
Elisa shook her head. ‘I warned her about that road,’ she said. ‘I said to her, “Stop being in such a rush, take the long route . . .” But she always was impatient, that is her way.’
‘It’s a dangerous road, notorious around here,’ Matteo said. ‘But I guess she thought she could handle it. They say a van caught her on the corner. The moped went off-road and she fell.’
‘That sounds terrible,’ Anna said. ‘How serious is it?’
‘It’s bad, I think,’ he answered. ‘Bad enough for her to be in intensive care, damage to her internal organs.’ Tears came into his eyes and he hurriedly brushed them away. ‘The staff here are incompetent. We’ve been waiting here for three hours now with no information, not a word from anyone.’
The note of anger and frustration was something she’d never heard in his voice before, and she held his hand tightly, wishing she could ease his grief.
‘Did you know?’ Elisa asked, looking up at Anna.
‘No . . . I had no idea it was her—’
‘I don’t mean that,’ she said. ‘Did you know about the baby?’
Anna felt numb with shock. Of course, the doctors would have found that out, and told them. ‘Yes, I did.’
Elisa nodded. ‘I thought so.’ Her expression was tired and pained.
‘She was planning to tell you. She wanted time to get used to the idea.’
Matteo looked at his wife. ‘You kept this to yourse
lf?’
‘I had to,’ Anna whispered. ‘She made me swear not to tell anyone.’
‘Well, I’m glad she wasn’t alone with it,’ Elisa said, her voice tight with emotion. ‘And from what Matteo’s just told me about Filippo . . . well. I wonder what I knew about my daughter at all. Perhaps that doesn’t even matter now,’ she said, tears coming to her eyes.
Matteo put an arm around his mother’s shoulders. But, instead of feeling as if they were in two camps, as she normally did, Anna had the sense they were all in it together now, with Carolina’s wellbeing at the forefront of all their minds.
‘I’ll get some coffee for us all,’ Anna said, checking for change in her purse.
She looked up and Matteo’s eyes were fixed on hers. ‘I’m glad you came, Anna. I needed you here.’
Anna made herself an espresso and got the ice cream shop ready for the early-morning customers, cleaning down the counters and putting the ices they would sell that day into the glass cabinet. Raspberry, strawberry, lemon . . . The bright colours and fresh fruit aromas offered a little comfort in their familiarity. She’d got a call from Matteo saying that Carolina was being taken in for surgery, and he was going to stay at the hospital until she came out. To think of her sister-in-law lying in theatre, unconscious and alone, gave Anna a sick feeling in the pit of her stomach. But they’d decided that the best thing to do was to open the shop. They needed to retain some normality while so much was out of their hands.
Anna closed the shop early that afternoon though, and took Bella with her to the hospital. The taxi pulled up outside the entrance.
Matteo was outside on the edge of the car park, smoking a cigarette and staring into the distance. She’d never seen him smoke in all the time she’d known him. He’d told her he’d given up at thirty. He looked older, and she could see the strain on his face.
She kissed him hello briefly and he reached down to take Bella into his arms; she gurgled as he lifted her up and cuddled her. ‘Papi,’ she said, delighted to see him again.
‘I’ve missed you, sweetheart,’ he said, putting her gently back down onto her feet.
‘Have you seen Carolina?’ Anna asked.
‘Yes. I saw her an hour ago. God, Anna, she looks terrible, her face all bruised, and all these wires.’ He motioned to the veins on his hands and arms.
‘But . . .?’
He bit his lip. ‘She’s conscious. It’s amazing. I talked to her. She talked back.’ Tears sprang to his eyes.
‘Sad,’ Bella said, pointing at her father’s eyes.
He shook his head. ‘No, love. Happy.’
Anna took his hand and squeezed it.
‘She’s out of intensive care. They think she’s going to be OK.’ He choked on the words.
‘That’s wonderful news,’ Anna said, a wave of relief coming over her.
‘And there’s more,’ he said.
‘The baby?’ she said quietly.
He nodded. ‘The doctor told me – she hasn’t lost it.’
‘They’ve told her, too?’
‘Yes.’
Anna and Matteo walked with their daughter through to the ward Carolina was recovering on. In the room, Anna saw instantly what Matteo had been talking about. Carolina looked like a shadow of herself, her body seeming more frail somehow. Elisa was at her side.
‘Let’s play outside,’ Elisa said to her granddaughter.
‘Is it too much for me to visit her, do you think?’ Anna whispered the question to Matteo.
‘No,’ he said, firmly. ‘You’re family. You go in and visit her. She’ll want to see you.’
They closed the door, leaving the two women alone in the room.
Anna stood for a moment, taking in the scene. Carolina, normally so immaculately made up, was barely recognisable, dark bruises all over her face and chest.
‘I look a mess, right?’ Carolina said, a trace of her familiar warm smile on her lips, the skin around them swollen.
‘The swelling will go down soon, I’m sure,’ Anna said, attempting to comfort her.
‘It sounds like they did quite a job on me. My lung had collapsed. Urgh! Anna, when I think about it – if my fall hadn’t been broken by that tree . . .’ She shook her head but only a millimetre, and even then the movement made her wince in discomfort.
‘You’re here now,’ Anna said. ‘That’s what matters.’
‘And the baby is still here, too.’ Carolina’s expression softened.
Anna held back, giving her space to continue. After a pause, she did.
‘We both got a second chance,’ Carolina said.
‘You’re feeling more ready?’
‘Yes. I know it’s going to be difficult. And the whole thing is crazy, really. But I’ve never felt more certain about anything. I’ll make it work.’
Anna looked at her sister-in-law, bruised but stronger, and felt honoured to know her.
‘I should leave you to rest,’ Anna said, touching her arm gently. ‘But we’re all so happy to see you getting well, and we’ll be here for you every step of the way.’
‘Thank you,’ Carolina said. ‘And thank you, Anna. For listening.’
Chapter 39
It was a hot August day and Evie and Imogen were sitting together eating lemon sorbets in the ice cream shop. The morning rush had passed, and there was only one regular there, an older man immersed in his newspaper.
‘What on earth am I going to write to Luigi?’ Evie said, quietly. ‘His letter was lovely. But it’s been such a long time.’
‘Just tell him what you’re doing,’ Imogen said casually. ‘Talk to him about this place. Or tell him about the last book you read, the swim you went for this morning. It doesn’t really matter – he’ll just want to hear back from you.’
‘Do you really think so?’ Evie said, smiling with a hint of shyness.
‘I know so,’ Imogen said.
‘Well, he says he’s still running the restaurant, so perhaps he doesn’t expect me to’ve changed the world too much.’ She fell silent for a moment. ‘What did you think of him, Imogen?’ she asked softly.
‘I liked him. Warm. Funny. Honest.’
‘That’s just how I remember him. Devoted to his family, of course.’
‘Let’s put some photos in. He loved seeing the one of you and Granny.’
‘Oh, I’m not surprised: that one was ancient. But I’m an old lady now. I don’t think I even have any photographs of me from the last few years.’
‘Well, perhaps it’s time we fixed that.’
Imogen tidied a lock of Evie’s hair and shifted the chair she was sitting on slightly so that her face caught the light.
‘There we are,’ Imogen said. She stepped back and set up her camera. It hadn’t taken long to get her equipment, and the post-lunchtime lull afforded them the perfect opportunity.
‘Think back to Italy,’ Imogen said. ‘Let’s try and capture some of that same Evie.’
Evie laughed. ‘Oh, Imogen, I was so much younger then.’
‘That’s it – perfect,’ Imogen said, snapping photos.
Sensing some action, Hepburn bounded over to Evie and leaped up into her lap.
‘Hepburn!’ Evie reprimanded him. Unconcerned, he settled into her lap comfortably.
‘OK. Well, we can work with this. A couple of shots with the dog, too,’ Imogen said, taking a few more.
She then zoomed in for some more close-ups.
‘Right, all done,’ Imogen said.
‘Finished already?’ Evie said.
‘Yes. You were the ideal model. Now, let’s take a look and see what we’ve got.’ She pulled up a chair beside Evie.
‘That one’s rather nice, isn’t it?’ Evie said, pointing at the screen. ‘I think that’s the one where I look most like me.’
‘Great. I’ll edit that one and a couple of others this afternoon and print them for you.’
‘Thank you, Imogen. You are kind to do this. Then I suppose I’ll put one in with my letter
to Luigi. Send that out.’ Evie’s natural confidence seemed to waver for a moment. ‘What if he . . .?’
‘He will love getting your letter and your photo,’ Imogen said. ‘I just know it.’
The bell that announced the arrival of new customers rang out, and Imogen looked over to the door. Clarissa came in; her dark red hair was swept up into a pleat and she wore a knee-length flowered dress and sandals. It was the first time Imogen had seen her outside of the rooms in the guesthouse. She looked energised and her cheeks were prettily flushed.
‘Hello,’ Imogen said, as Clarissa came in. ‘This is a nice surprise.’
‘Do you mind if I join you?’ Clarissa asked. Imogen introduced her to Evie, and she said hello politely, but there was a slightly wild excitement in her eyes.
‘I’m sorry, this is so rude of me to interrupt,’ Clarissa said to them both. ‘But I had to come down here and talk to you. The most unusual thing has happened, and I can’t bear to have it all just sit here in my head.’
Evie went to make them all some tea, and Imogen led Clarissa over to one of the booths to sit down. By the time that Evie returned, with a large red teapot and cups, Clarissa was gradually getting her breath back.
‘Washington Street,’ Clarissa said. ‘I’ve been thinking about it ever since you showed me that address, Imogen.’
‘Oh, dear, I guess I opened Pandora’s box with that one,’ Imogen said, biting the inside of her cheek. She hadn’t properly thought through how it might leave Clarissa feeling.
‘Yes. I suppose you did,’ Clarissa said. ‘I’ve not been able to stop thinking about it, who might be living there now – after all, it’s over forty years since my mother left it. I even got so far as to reach the end of the road, only to turn back around again.’
‘I’m sorry – perhaps it was insensitive of me to suggest it,’ Imogen said.
‘No,’ Clarissa said. ‘You didn’t push me into anything, did you? Just put the idea out there, for me to make up my mind. But then I started to think that maybe I wasn’t brave enough. I wondered if they – these strangers – would even be alive, let alone whether they would be open to talking to me.’
Evie quietly poured the tea, staying out of the conversation, but not moving to leave, either, her presence quietly calming.
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