Antonietta’s hands paused and, unseen by Vincenzo, she frowned, though she kept her voice light. ‘My family don’t want me home with or without a guest, so I win.’
He laughed and relaxed a little. ‘I don’t know how to keep everyone happy,’ he admitted.
‘I think it’s time to make your own traditions, Vincenzo. I know I’ve been relying on other people to make this Christmas a happy one.’
An idea was forming, though she did not share it with Vincenzo as he was now half asleep. But when he was done, and it was time for her break, Antonietta knocked on Francesca’s door.
‘Come in, Antonietta,’ Francesca said.
‘I lied to you.’
Antonietta saw Francesca’s curious frown as she took a seat in her office.
‘About what?’ Francesca asked. ‘Are you intending to open a bordello here?’
They shared a small smile before Antonietta answered. ‘Of course not. But I do want to take advantage of my friendship with Aurora and Nico. I wanted to speak with you about it beforehand. I don’t want to go over your head.’
‘I’m curious,’ Francesca admitted.
‘I came to Silibri hoping for a wonderful Christmas,’ Antonietta said, ‘and I’ve realised I have done little to bring it about.’
Francesca frowned.
‘I have left my fate in other people’s hands for too long,’ Antonietta said. ‘I have been waiting for my parents to decide how I spend my days, and what will make me happy, but no more.’
‘What do you have in mind?’
‘Cake,’ Antonietta said. ‘And lots of it. And decorations. And a feast shared with the people I care about and who care about me.’
‘Who?’ Francesca asked.
‘You!’ Antonietta smiled. ‘And anyone else who isn’t getting the Christmas they hoped for. Of course it would only take place after all the guests have been taken care of...’
‘I have loathed Christmas ever since my divorce,’ Francesca admitted—and then perked up. ‘We could use the grand dining room,’ Francesca said. ‘Tony would cook, I’m sure of it, and Pino...’ She gave a pained sigh. ‘I have been so worried about him spending Christmas alone.’
‘And me,’ Antonietta admitted.
‘I was going to invite him over for dinner,’ Francesca admitted, ‘but you know how the villagers talk...’
‘Believe me, I know,’ Antonietta said. ‘But of course you are just being...’ She was about to say that of course Francesca was just being friendly, but her voice trailed off as her manager went a little bit pink.
Francesca and Pino?
But Pino was grieving Rosa so deeply he would never look at Francesca in that way, Antonietta was sure.
Oh, love was so difficult and cruel—but, given that she couldn’t fix her own love-life, she certainly couldn’t help anyone else with theirs, so she got back to organising the party.
‘We would need Nico’s permission.’
‘He will never give it.’ Francesca shook her head. ‘He is like the Grinch. He didn’t even want a Christmas tree in the foyer.’
‘It’s his first Christmas with Aurora and his first as a father...’
‘Do you think Aurora could persuade him?’
‘Oh, yes.’ Antonietta smiled.
‘Then on this occasion,’ Francesca said, ‘I have no problem with you going over my head.’
Antonietta called Aurora. And since Aurora thought it a brilliant idea she said she would be delighted to ‘work on Nico’.
‘Ha-ha!’ Aurora added.
Antonietta would have frowned at that just a few short weeks ago. She had been utterly clueless back then.
‘Enjoy!’ Antonietta said instead, and then communicated her response back to Francesca.
‘We have the go-ahead? Nico approves?’ Francesca checked.
‘Aurora is working on him.’
‘Lucky Aurora!’
Soon they had gathered all the staff who would be working on Christmas Day.
‘Do we get paid for staying on?’ Chi-Chi asked.
‘It’s a party,’ Francesca said. ‘Of course not.’
‘Then you can count me out,’ Chi-Chi said, and left.
‘Well, I think it’s a great idea,’ Pino said. ‘I’ve been dreading Christmas. I know I said I didn’t mind that my daughter is with her husband’s family, but really...’
As it turned out, he wasn’t the only one who felt lonely at this time of year.
Vera, who worked in the laundry, and could have had the day off but had chosen to work, was another who admitted she struggled. ‘I can make a lasagne,’ she said.
‘No, I am making the lasagne,’ Tony insisted. ‘But, Vera, your cannelloni is the best I have ever tasted...’ His voice trailed off as Vincenzo came in.
‘What’s going on?’ Vincenzo asked.
‘We’re having a meal—a staff party for those who have to...’ Antonietta paused ‘...for those who have chosen to work on Christmas Day.’
‘Oh!’ Vincenzo just stood there.
‘Well, it doesn’t apply to you,’ Tony said rather spitefully. ‘You’re spending Christmas with family.’
* * *
Though it was not quite the perfect remedy for getting over a broken heart, it was fun to organise everything, and in her time off Antonietta baked.
And cried.
But mainly she baked.
Or mainly she cried.
But there was cake involved, which always helped.
What didn’t help was finding on Christmas Eve the coffee-flavoured Modica chocolate that she had bought for Rafe.
Well, not really. But she had certainly bought it with Rafe in mind, never knowing that that very night they would make love.
It had been so good.
At least it had been for her.
But then she reminded herself of his cruel departure, and those horrible harsh words, and told herself to get over him.
And she would.
Oh, she would...
But first she had to weep for him.
Yet she knew that once she’d started she wouldn’t be able to stop.
She would have to mourn him later, Antonietta decided. For now, the show must go on.
And so, dressing for the Christmas Eve bonfire that night, she put on the gorgeous dress, tights and boots he had bought her.
And though there was no sign of Rafe’s black helicopter, still a chariot awaited...
Well, the hotel put on a car to take the people who were working till late into the village for the last hour of the bonfire before everyone headed to church.
Poor Pino, Antonietta thought as she climbed in. He looked pensive as they drove up the winding hill.
But then he gave her a little pep talk. ‘If there are any problems tonight, just come and find me.’
‘I’ll be fine, Pino. My family might not be talking to me, but they’re not going to make a scene at the Christmas Eve bonfire.’
‘You probably haven’t heard the news,’ said Francesca.
‘I know about Sylvester,’ Antonietta said.
‘It’s nothing to do with you, of course,’ Francesca soothed, ‘but from what I’ve heard emotions are a little raw.’
‘Emotions are always a little raw with the Riccis.’ Antonietta shrugged. ‘You’re right—Sylvester and his marriage are nothing to do with me.’
She shut down the conversation—and not just because she refused to gossip. She shut down the conversation because it hurt. Though she had no feelings at all for Sylvester, another person’s misery still didn’t feel like a triumph. There was enough sadness in the world, and right now she was busy dealing with her own.
Antonietta was at the start of her life without Rafe. Oh, they had been together for only a short time, but
it had been long enough for her heart to know it was love.
The bonfire would be a nice place to weep unnoticed.
It was huge. The children were all laughing and playing, and there were cheers and celebrations as the orange flames licked up towards the sky—she would blame the smoke for her watery eyes, should anyone see. But she refused to break down completely.
‘Antonietta...’
She turned at the sound of her name, and there stood her mamma.
‘Have you heard about Sylvester?’
‘What does that have to do with me?’
‘It would seem you were right to have doubts,’ her mother said. ‘Come to us tomorrow,’ she offered. ‘Have Christmas Day with your family.’
It was everything she had once wished for. Everything she had come to Silibri for.
And yet Rafe had been right when he’d asked her if she would ever be able to forgive her parents. It had seemed a ridiculous question at the time, but it made perfect sense now.
Antonietta looked at her mother, and though she could stand there now, vindicated and redeemed in her mother’s eyes, there was too much hurt.
‘I have plans for tomorrow,’ Antonietta said.
‘Antonietta, don’t do this. I have missed you so much...’
‘Then why didn’t you pick up the phone?’ Antonietta retorted, and walked off.
‘Hey,’ Pino said. ‘Is everything all right?’
‘I got what I wanted,’ Antonietta said. ‘Or what I thought I wanted. But it’s too little, too late.’
‘So carry on the fight, then,’ Pino said. ‘And we can all be miserable this Christmas.’
He made her smile.
‘I know that I don’t want to be miserable any longer,’ Pino said. ‘I was talking to Signor Dupont before he left. He told me to go and look at the ruins. Said that life can still be beautiful even without Rosa.’
‘He told you that?’ Antonietta said. It angered her rather than soothed her, for she loathed the thought of Rafe just going on with his beautiful life.
‘He did. And if he hadn’t been a guest—and a royal one at that—I might have hit him,’ Pino said.
‘But you didn’t?’
‘No, because I think he might be right. I want to make peace with the past, and I want to embrace the rest of my life. Call me old-fashioned, but I believe life is better with family.’
‘Even when they hurt you?’
‘Of course,’ Pino said. ‘Love isn’t always easy. My daughter has hurt me...’
‘Have you told her?’
‘No,’ Pino said. ‘For there might come a time when I hurt her too. I just have to hope she’ll be happy for me...’
Was he talking about Francesca? Antonietta pondered. Surely it was too soon? But then, who was she to judge?
She looked at Pino’s tired, kind face and gave him a little squeeze on the arm. ‘I’d be happy for you, Pino.’
He’d given her good advice. And so she walked over to her mother, who stood by the fire, when it would have been so much easier, even justified, to walk away.
‘I have plans tomorrow, Mamma, but I could come over in the evening, perhaps, for a drink.’
And biscotti and cake and pizzelles, no doubt. For there was no such thing as just a drink in Silibri.
It would be awkward, and difficult, but it would be a start—and, wrongly or rightly, she could not turn her back on her family.
‘I’d love that,’ said her mamma.
‘I’ll see you tomorrow.’
‘You’re not coming to church?’
‘No.’ Antonietta gave a wry smile. ‘That would be too many Riccis under the same roof for me.’
Her mamma actually smiled.
And Antonietta smiled too, until she got home. And then she gave in to tears and cried more than she ever had.
She was home.
All was sorted.
Except she had let her heart go to a playboy.
And she didn’t know how to even start to get it back.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
‘BUON NATALE!’ PINO said as she came to the door.
‘Buon Natale!’ Antonietta smiled.
And then she laughed as she stepped into the foyer. Nico had let them pull out all the stops, and there was now a small nativity scene on the reception desk.
‘We have bon-bons.’ Francesca beamed as she came over. ‘And Signor Caruso is throwing in champagne. Aurora must have been working overtime on him.’
And, despite her blue heart, Antonietta laughed. ‘Buon Natale, Francesca.’
She was so grateful for her wonderful friends and colleagues who had supported her. And she was grateful too for Francesca. Yes, her words had hurt at the time, but Antonietta knew she had got off very lightly.
Well, not that lightly, because she still had to work with Chi-Chi, and they had been given a full list of suites to service in an impossibly short amount of time while the guests were at breakfast or the Oratory or church.
‘My back is killing me,’ Chi-Chi grumbled.
‘One more suite,’ Antonietta said, and knocked on the door.
‘Good,’ Chi-Chi said. ‘They’re out.’
The suite looked like a tornado had hit it. There were champagne bottles and glasses in the lounge, half-drunk mimosas on the bedside tables, and wrapping paper all over the bed.
‘Don’t just throw it away,’ Antonietta barked, as Chi-Chi scooped up the paper. ‘There might still be gifts in there...’
Foolish words.
‘My back is killing me,’ Chi-Chi grumbled. She sat on the sofa and commenced her slowly-slowly, folding the wrapping paper piece by piece as Antonietta made the bed. ‘I just need five minutes.’
Antonietta rolled her eyes as Chi-Chi turned the television on. Really! She wanted a few moments alone and so, having made the bed, she went and serviced the bathroom. For a tiny second she allowed herself the dream of her and Rafe sitting in bed on Christmas morning, sipping mimosas as they unwrapped their presents.
Did she regret her time with Rafe?
No, not for a single second.
Oh, she regretted that they had been doomed from the start...and perhaps she regretted how hard she had tumbled into loving him.
But no, she refuted, she did not regret that.
As she came out of the bathroom she glanced at the television and saw the Vatican, and the Pope giving his Christmas address.
Antonietta stood watching for a moment, and saw an image of the Christmas celebrations in France, and then Germany, and then the British royal family heading to church...
And then her difficult Christmas became an impossible one—for there were the King and Queen of Tulano on the palace balcony, and beside them stood Crown Prince Rafael.
It was a mere glimpse, but it burned in her brain: the sight of Rafe in all his military splendour, looking so impossibly handsome and so utterly beyond her, and worst of all so happy, for he had been smiling. Smiling a natural, relaxed smile that told Antonietta he was truly happy.
Of course she wanted him to be happy—but not quite yet. Not when her own heart was so raw and bleeding.
But even as Antonietta cried out in recognition the footage moved on to Austria, and how Christmas was being celebrated there.
‘He’s mean,’ Chi-Chi huffed. ‘Do you know, he left letters for all the staff who had dealings with him, and a tip, yet he left nothing for me?’
‘Nor me,’ Antonietta said.
Well, he had tried to give her a necklace. But that was one thing that didn’t make sense.
It could not be a coincidence that the sapphire he’d tried to give her had been the exact shade of the water in the Blue Grotto. Surely?
Get over yourself, Antonietta, she warned herself.
He probably had a c
ollection of sapphires. And all the women he took to the Blue Grotto and made love to were probably gifted one.
There was probably a Blue Grotto Sapphire club, Antonietta decided bitterly.
‘Time for me to go,’ Chi-Chi declared at five minutes to three. ‘Buon Natale, Antonietta.’
‘Buon Natale, Chi-Chi.’
But was it a happy Christmas?
Antonietta brushed her hair and applied Aurora’s red lipstick, which clashed a little with her Persian orange dress.
She had managed to get a replacement lipstick for her friend, and had baked gifts for everyone else. Well, everyone except Pino.
Antonietta collected her gifts from her locker and arrived only a little late to the party she had herself organised. And suddenly it really was a Buon Natale.
There was a canopy of lights that stretched across the ballroom, and in the corner stood a huge tree dressed in ropes of lights. It reminded her so much of her magical time in Capri that for a moment tears filled her eyes.
‘Who did this?’ she asked.
Francesca didn’t even have to answer her, for a moment later there were footsteps, and Antonietta turned to the sight of Nico carrying little Gabe, with Aurora by his side.
‘You’re here!’ Antonietta beamed. ‘And you’ve been so busy!’ she exclaimed. ‘The ballroom looks beautiful.’
‘Doesn’t it?’ Aurora said as she hugged her. ‘And of course I’m here. To tell the truth, my family were driving me crazy. It is wonderful to escape!’
‘There is no escape...’ Nico sighed. ‘And we have to head back by five for an announcement.’
‘Announcement?’ Antonietta frowned.
‘Don’t pretend you don’t know,’ Aurora said, and then blinked. ‘My brother is getting engaged.’
‘Oh!’
‘To Chi-Chi!’ Aurora groaned.
‘No!’
‘Yes,’ Nico groaned. ‘How the hell do I fire her now! Antonietta, you cannot leave Silibri. I swear the two of them will move into the cottage and we’ll never get them out.’
For the first time since Rafe had left, Antonietta found that she was properly laughing. ‘Every pot has its lid!’ she said.
‘And that lid is going to be my sister-in-law!’ Aurora sighed, but then brightened when she saw Vincenzo arriving, weighed down with presents. ‘I thought you were off!’
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