‘You know,’ said Stephen, contemplatively munching on his scone, ‘she reminds me of someone.’
‘Who?’ Rosanna asked.
‘You, silly. She reminds me of you.’
Of course, that was it, that was why the smile seemed familiar, she thought. ‘Stephen, please take those scones into the sitting room before you eat them all,’ Rosanna scolded him affectionately.
‘Then I’ll be off. You need to talk to Luca and Ella, darling. I’ll keep out of the way.’
‘Come over for supper tomorrow then?’
‘Lovely.’ He kissed her on the tip of her nose and left.
‘Hello, Rosanna.’ Ella came into the kitchen so quietly that Rosanna didn’t hear her.
‘Hello, Ella, I’m just bringing in the coffee now.’
‘I only came to say that, if you don’t mind, I’ll go to bed. I’m very tired.’
‘Are you not hungry? Would you like to join us for supper later?’
She shook her head. ‘No, thank you. Buona notte, Rosanna.’
‘Goodnight, Ella.’
The girl turned and left the room. There was something so vulnerable about her, so lonely, that a lump rose in Rosanna’s throat.
‘I think she knows Carlotta is dying, Luca,’ said Rosanna as they sat down later together in the kitchen and ate supper.
‘Maybe, but Carlotta has refused to talk to Ella about her illness, or the future.’
‘How long has Carlotta got left?’
Luca put down his fork and shook his head. ‘I don’t know, Rosanna, but not long. Her spirit is breaking. She’s in so much pain.’
‘Then Ella must go back soon, before it’s too late.’
‘No, Rosanna. Carlotta does not want her to. She has said goodbye to her daughter.’
‘But what about Ella?’ She was horrified. ‘Has she not the right to choose what she would like to do?’
‘Carlotta has made her decision. She believes it to be for the best.’
‘And after she dies? What happens then?’
‘Rosanna, I have a letter for you from Carlotta. I think it will explain things better than I can. I’ll give it to you after supper. Now, please, we should eat with happier thoughts. How was New York?’
‘It was very good . . . and very bad.’ Rosanna picked at the baked potato on her plate. ‘Stephen was lovely, but I met some people who know Roberto and his mistress, Donatella Bianchi.’
Luca raised his eyebrows. ‘He’s back with her?’
‘Yes.’
‘They deserve each other, those two. They are made of the same stuff.’
‘That’s exactly what Trish said, that they suited each other.’
‘Trish?’
‘Sorry, the wife of Stephen’s client in New York. She’s friendly with Donatella and Roberto. It was a little awkward at first, but actually I think she’s a nice person. Her husband is a billionaire with a wonderful art collection. He took me into a little room where he has an exquisite drawing of the Madonna.’ Rosanna gestured with her hands to indicate its size. ‘He said the drawing is by Leonardo da Vinci. He paid millions of dollars for it, apparently.’
‘Really?’ Luca paused, then said, ‘This drawing, where did he find it?’
‘I don’t know. He said it was a secret, so I suppose I shouldn’t be telling you. Maybe Stephen will know. You can ask him. Why?’
‘Oh,’ Luca shrugged, ‘no reason.’
Throughout the evening, the suspicion in Luca’s mind began to grow. He excused himself early and went to his room, desperate to put together his thoughts: Donatella, a friend of the art collector, a small drawing of the Madonna, reminiscent of Leonardo . . . could it be the same one, or was it merely coincidence?
The next morning, as Ella and Rosanna sat in the kitchen with Nico having breakfast, Luca went into the study. He looked through his sister’s address book, found Stephen’s number at the gallery and dialled it.
‘Stephen, it’s Luca Menici here. Excuse me for disturbing you and this may seem a strange question, but last night Rosanna told me about a drawing of the Madonna that your client in New York has.’
‘Did she indeed? She was meant to keep quiet about that one,’ said Stephen sternly.
‘She wouldn’t tell anyone else, Stephen. Don’t worry. But why is it supposed to be a secret?’
‘Oh, many art collectors prefer to keep their more valuable paintings quiet. Art theft is a major problem nowadays.’
‘Do you happen to know where your client purchased this drawing?’
‘Yes, but I’d be breaking client confidentiality to tell you, Luca.’
‘Stephen, please, it’s very important that I know. You have my word I will not tell.’
‘Well . . . it was a well-known Italian dealer called Giovanni Bianchi. Luca, why do you ask?’
At the other end of the line, Luca closed his eyes and shook his head in disbelief.
‘Luca, are you still there?’
‘Yes. Stephen, we must talk. It’s a matter of great importance.’
‘Well, I’m coming over for supper tonight. If I come earlier, we can chat while Rosanna baths Nico.’
‘Okay, but not a word to Rosanna, please.’
‘Of course not. Goodbye, Luca.’
Luca replaced the receiver, went back into the kitchen and tried to forget that his beloved church and his country may have been cheated out of a priceless treasure from right under his nose.
41
Later that afternoon, while both Nico and Ella were resting, Rosanna sat at the kitchen table and read the letter Luca had handed her from Carlotta.
Vico Piedigrotta,
Naples
My dear Rosanna,
I thank you from the bottom of my heart for having Ella to stay. It means a lot to me to know that she is with you in England, far away from what is happening to her mamma. Luca will have told you about my illness and that I have very little time left. Forgive me, Rosanna, for not wishing to see you; when death is sudden you are unable to make choices, but the one consolation I have with my slow death is that I’m able to organise it the way I wish. And I wish to see no one. Very soon I am going away to somewhere peaceful. Shortly, Luca will join me and help me through my last days.
If it seems I have made little effort to communicate with you in the past few years and have ignored your kind offers to come and stay with you in England, I ask you to forgive me. I cannot really explain. Our lives turned out so differently and, if I’m truthful, I might have found it hard comparing yours to mine. There, I have said it. And some day, if fate chooses, you may know the whole truth and then you will understand.
Rosanna, you may wonder why I wish Ella to be away from me. My heart tells me it is right, that she should not watch her mamma suffer anymore. I know you will treat her kindly. She will be very upset for a while, but she is young and I’m sure with the love I know you will show her, she will recover in time.
I have two things I wish you to do for me. When I die, I do not want you or Ella to attend my funeral. I will be buried quietly with only Papa and Luca to lay me to rest. The second thing is – and I hope you do not feel I ask too much – I don’t wish Ella to return to Naples after I’m gone. I would like her to stay with you in England. If she returns here, her life will be a repeat of mine. She deserves more. She is a very special child. Ask her to sing for you one day.
So, I’m putting her future into your hands. I have a little money saved and when I die, my lawyer will forward the amount to you to help towards her keep. I thank you now in advance for Ella’s care. I know you will do your best for her.
Rosanna, do not mind that I say this, but I’m glad you have left Roberto. He is destructive and, however much you loved him, he could only bring you pain. There are some people in the world who are made like that. Luca tells me you have a good man now who cares for you in the way he should.
Finally, do not let Roberto take away your talent. You were born to sing! You MUST sing.<
br />
Goodbye, Rosanna.
Ti amo,
Your sister, Carlotta
Rosanna dropped the letter from her hands and wept.
‘Rosanna, Rosanna? I . . .’
She looked up and saw Ella watching her, a worried frown on her face.
‘I came to tell you Nico is awake,’ Ella continued. ‘Are you all right? What is wrong?’ She glanced at the letter on the floor.
Rosanna quickly scooped it up. ‘I’m sorry, Ella. I—’
‘It’s a letter from Mamma, telling you she is dying, yes?’
Rosanna saw the pain in her lovely eyes.
‘I know it’s why I’m here with you in England, so Mamma can die without me watching. I know I have said goodbye to her. I . . .’ Ella’s shoulders heaved and she began to sob.
‘Yes, Ella, and I’m so, so sorry.’ Rosanna went to her and held her and they cried together. Eventually, she steered Ella to the sofa, sat her down and smoothed the hair back from her face. ‘I know how difficult this must be for you.’ She spoke softly in Italian. ‘But it’s what your mamma wanted.’
‘But not what I wanted,’ said Ella in a choked voice.
‘I know, I know, but she’s only trying to spare you pain. She doesn’t wish to see me either.’
‘But she needs me, she is all alone,’ Ella moaned.
‘No. Luca is flying back tomorrow and he will be with her. They are very close and it’s he whom she wanted.’
‘But what about me? The future?’ Ella shook her head. ‘Without Mamma, what will I do?’
‘Cara, she has made plans for you, so please do not worry. For the moment, you are going to stay here with Nico and me. I know it’s strange and difficult for you, but it will get easier, I promise. We’ll make our own little family. I’ll look after you.’
‘But . . . do you want me here? After all, you hardly know me.’
‘Now, that’s a silly thing to say, cara. You are my niece and I love you, Ella. And I get very lonely in this house by myself. You’ll be company for me, and I can see Nico already adores you. We’re both very happy to have you here, really, and we’ll help each other through this, yes?’
Ella nodded. ‘Sī.’
Rosanna gave her a big hug. ‘Now, I’d better go upstairs before my son thinks I’ve abandoned him.’ She stood up and offered Ella her hand. ‘Come with me?’
Ella smiled and took it gratefully. ‘Thank you for being so kind.’
‘So you’re saying that you discovered what you think is John St Regent’s drawing in the crypt of a church in Milan?’
Luca nodded, watching Stephen’s unbelieving face.
‘I know it’s an amazing coincidence, but yes.’
‘Okay. Tell me the story again, slowly.’
Luca went through how he had discovered the drawing and the silver chalice, and how Donatella Bianchi had taken them to her husband to be valued.
‘So she told you the silver chalice was worth a lot of money, but the drawing was worth next to nothing?’ confirmed Stephen.
‘Yes.’
‘Why didn’t you get a second opinion?’
‘The priest and I were in a difficult position. We knew that if we told others of my discovery, the money would be unlikely to come to our church. It would be immediately swallowed up by the Vatican coffers and we needed funds urgently for restorations. So don Edoardo, the priest at the church, agreed for Giovanni Bianchi to sell the chalice. Then Donatella said she would also buy the drawing of the Madonna as she had grown so fond of it. She gave us three million lire for it and made a large public donation to the restoration fund.’ Luca shook his head. ‘We trusted her, Stephen, and we needed the money. If I had known the truth, then . . .’
Stephen exhaled loudly. ‘Well, if it is the same drawing, you’ve been the victim of the most amazing con. But Luca, if it’s any comfort, you’re not the first and you won’t be the last. There are unscrupulous dealers and collectors the world over. It often works like this: the dealer discovers a painting of value and knows if he tells the authorities they’ll claim it as a national treasure. It’ll be hung in a public gallery and he’ll receive little recompense for his endeavours. However, if he can find a private buyer, then, as you’ve seen, the rewards can be exceptional. I reckon at least a third of the world’s most valuable paintings are hidden in secret vaults around the globe.’
Luca shook his head. ‘I cannot believe Don Edoardo and I were so naive.’
‘Not at all. You weren’t to know this woman was lying. Anyway, before we go any further, we need to discover whether or not it is the same drawing.’
‘I sincerely hope I am wrong and it’s only coincidence. If they stole that drawing, not only from us, but from the church and Italy itself, well . . .’ Luca shook his head despairingly.
‘Yes, well, first let’s see if it’s the same drawing and take it from there.’
‘Have you any idea how we do that, Stephen?’ Luca asked.
‘Well, as a matter of fact I did mention to John St Regent last time that I’d like to examine the drawing in greater detail. He trusts me completely.’ Stephen sighed. ‘So far, he has no reason to do otherwise.’
‘Stephen, really, you must not compromise yourself.’
‘I won’t, I can assure you, but I’m prepared to examine and authenticate the drawing, and, during the process, take a photograph of it for you. But if it is the one you found, I’ll have to insist from then on that my name is kept out of it. Discretion is the name of the game in my business.’
‘Of course. I have no idea what I’d do if it is the drawing, but I must at least know the truth. Thank you, Stephen.’
‘Not at all. I’m as eager to discover the truth as you are.’
‘When will you go to New York?’
‘Not for a couple of months, I’m afraid. I’m snowed under at the gallery. It’ll be the beginning of December at the earliest. Anyway, it would be far too suspicious if I was to return to see the drawing so soon. There’s another client in New York who has a painting for me to look at and authenticate. I can kill two birds with one stone. I really suggest you try to put the whole business to the back of your mind for now.’
‘I’ll try, but—’
Stephen touched a finger to his lips as he saw Rosanna and Ella enter the sitting room.
Rosanna climbed into bed and the warmth of Stephen’s arms.
‘I’m so tired,’ she yawned as she made herself comfortable.
‘Ella looked happier this evening,’ Stephen commented.
‘We had a talk today. She does know about Carlotta – that she’s dying and she’s said goodbye. Carlotta wrote me a letter and God, Stephen, it’s one of the most tragic things I’ve ever had to read.’
‘I’m so sorry, darling.’ Stephen pulled her closer. ‘And the tragedy is that your sister’s so young. There really is no rhyme or reason in life, is there? It’s such a lottery.’
‘Yes, it is. Carlotta wants Ella to stay here with me.’
‘I know.’
‘I mean, to live here permanently after she dies.’
‘I see. And how do you feel about that?’
‘Of course I’m happy to have her, and remember, Ella’s almost sixteen. She’ll want to be off to college or university in a couple of years. Talking of which, if she is staying here, I must enquire about local schools and find her an English teacher to give her private lessons. She has the basics, but she’ll need help if she’s to go to school here.’
‘Yes.’ Stephen stroked her hair gently. ‘But tomorrow, darling, worry about it all tomorrow.’
‘Oh, one other thing,’ said Rosanna as she settled down for sleep and turned off the light, ‘do you have the name of a good solicitor?’
‘Yes, I do, as a matter of fact.’
‘Then you must give it to me. I want to begin divorce proceedings.’
‘Now, that is good news.’ Stephen kissed the top of her head. ‘Darling?’
‘Yes?’
said Rosanna.
‘If you’re divorcing Roberto, how would you feel about marrying me sometime in the future?’
‘I . . . can’t I just divorce Roberto first?’
‘Of course. I only wanted to know if it’s a possibility.’
Rosanna gently stroked his cheek. ‘It is, caro. Goodnight.’
Before Luca left for Naples the following morning, he went into the sitting room and dialled Abi’s number in London. He was nervous, as he hadn’t spoken to her since the day they’d parted so painfully at The Manor House.
‘Hello?’ her voice sounded sleepy.
‘Abi, it’s Luca.’
‘Luca, darling, how are you?’ Her tone was warm, concerned, and he breathed a mental sigh of relief that she wasn’t angry with him.
‘I’m . . . okay. I’m sorry I haven’t called before, but things have been complicated.’
‘Don’t worry. You’ve called now, that’s what matters.’
‘I wanted to tell you I’ll be away for some weeks. I’m going with Carlotta to a convent hospital near Pompeii. I’ll be there for as long as it takes.’
‘Of course. It’s just so awful. Poor Carlotta and poor you. How are you feeling?’
‘Devastated, Abi, as you can imagine, but I must gather my strength for my sister. She’ll need all I can give her.’
‘She’s lucky to have you.’
‘I’ll be in touch when it’s . . . over.’
‘Yes,’ Abi said softly. ‘But Luca’ – she was unable to stop herself from asking – ‘are you . . . missing me?’
He recalled those halcyon days of summer when the two of them had laughed and loved together. Then he thought of what he had to face in the next few weeks.
‘More than you will ever know. Ciao, cara.’
42
‘Well, Mrs Rossini, you’ll be pleased to know that your husband is not going to contest the divorce.’
‘Oh,’ Rosanna replied sadly. She had hoped somewhere inside that he would.
The Italian Girl Page 36