Midwife, Mother...Italian's Wife. Fiona McArthur

approached them. He spoke in Italian and Tammy looked away but she couldn’t help overhearing.

      She had no trouble interpreting Leon’s discussion with his son. She’d been able to speak Italian since her teenage years in a dingy Italian coffee shop in Sydney, dark with dangerous men and a tall Italian youth she hadn’t seen since but wasn’t allowed to forget. Those memories reminded her why she wasn’t attracted to Leonardo Bonmarito.

      ‘Do you wish to play this game?’ Leon said to his son.

      ‘Sì,’ said Paulo, and he looked away to the other children.

      ‘Be aware of your safety,’ Leon continued in his native language, and Tammy frowned at the tablecloth in front of her. It seemed a strange thing to say at his brother’s wedding in a country town.

      ‘Sì, Padre, of course,’ Paulo said again, and when his father nodded he ran off to join the children. Tammy hoped she wiped the expression from her face before she glanced back at Leon. Listening to Leon talk to his son brought back many memories and it had surprised her how easily she slipped back into recognising the words.

      ‘Your son has beautiful manners. Is he allowed to play with other children much?’

      It was her turn to be frowned on. ‘Of course.’ No doubt she’d offended him. Oops, she thought without remorse.

      Leon went on in a low, steely voice that made her eyebrows rise. ‘He attends school. And your Jack? He appears very confident.’ His eyes travelled over her. ‘Like his mother.’

      She shrugged. Tough if he had a problem with that. ‘There’s only been Jack and me together, although my father and my stepmother have always been very much a part of his life since he was born. They live next door.’

      She saw his gaze drift to his brother and the planes of his angular face softened as he nodded. ‘Family is important. Especially when one’s family is smaller than God intended.’

      There seemed a story there. She wasn’t quite sure what he was getting at. Did he have plans to enlarge his family? Was he here to convince his brother to take his wife back to Italy for good? Perhaps it would be better to know one’s enemy, as good as an excuse as any for plain old nosiness, but she had to admit to herself he intrigued her. ‘So, both your parents are gone?’

      ‘Sì’. Reluctance in the answer. ‘They died when we were young.’

      She should stop the questions, but maybe now a silence would be even more awkward, or that’s what she told herself as she asked the next. ‘To lose a parent is hard, to lose both would be devastating. Especially as I believe you are the eldest of the two of you?’

      He shrugged and his voice had cooled. ‘By four years. It was my responsibility to be the head of the family.’

      At how old? she wondered. ‘No other relatives to look after you?’

      He answered almost absently as his attention was distracted by the calls and laughter of the children. ‘An elderly widowed aunt who has since passed away.’ He frowned again as Paulo ducked with a grin behind a dark bush.

      He really did have issues with Paulo playing with the other children, Tammy decided. ‘And Emma says you lost your wife last year?’

      His gaze snapped back to her and this time he raised haughty brows at her. ‘Molto curioso,’ he said.

      Yes, she couldn’t deny she was curious. She looked at him blandly as if she had no idea what he said, until he inclined his head and continued on a different topic. ‘It is good to see Paulo with a smile on his face. They have been too rare in the past year.’

      The pang of sympathy for both of them reminded her of the past as well. ‘And now your own son has lost his mother. It’s hard to lose your mother.’

      Now that brought back memories she’d rather forget but felt obliged to share as she’d been so nosy. ‘Even difficult mothers. I was fifteen when I lost mine. Went to live with my mother’s mother.’ She laughed with little amusement. ‘Who said my living there made her feel too old. Such a silly woman.’

      ‘Perhaps it is my turn to be curious?’ It seemed Leon waited for her to enlarge on the topic. Not a hope in Hades.

      She said the first thing she could think of to avoid a discussion of her ridiculous past. ‘Would you like to dance again?’ She discovered as she waited for his answer the idea held definite appeal.

      His mouth tilted and she knew he was aware of her sudden change of subject. ‘I would like that very much.’

      The palpitations came out of nowhere. Just started to thump in her chest as he stood—and from where she sat he filled her vision; he truly was magnificent—then drew her up, with that strong hand of his closing on hers. She felt weightless, like a feather, and a little airy like a feather too, which wasn’t like her as she drifted across to the floor where the piano accordion was valiantly attempting to play a waltz.

      It was okay to enjoy a dance. With a skilled partner. Nothing wrong with that. His arms came around her and she closed her eyes, giving in to the moment for once, not fighting the magic that had surprised her earlier in the evening. This was what dancing was for. She just hadn’t realised she’d been searching for the right partner.