for her knowledge.
He’d tried to bring her down when Hidden Treasure first started airing. He’d posted anonymous comments on social media, hinting that she was unstable and untrustworthy. In the end, to squash the rumours and to make sure the truth was told properly, she’d told her story to the national press and made sure that the fee went to the women’s refuge that had helped her. She really, really hoped that she’d helped other people in that situation and given them the courage to find an escape.
She’d come through the other side.
But she was never, ever going to get sucked into another relationship again. She’d learned that work and friendship were reliable; love and her judgement in men definitely weren’t.
* * *
‘We’re flying to Florence tomorrow, Mamma,’ Angelo said.
‘And do you think she will do the job?’ Lucrezia asked.
‘I hope so. She needs to see the paintings for herself before she’ll commit—which is fair.’
‘Maybe I should come back from Rome.’
Where she was staying with his sister and the new baby.
Baby, Angelo thought, and shoved the thought aside before it started trampling on a sore spot. ‘Don’t cut your visit short, Mamma,’ he said. He loved his mother dearly, but she had overdramatic tendencies—he rather thought she enjoyed playing up to the stereotypes of being Italian and being an opera singer—and the last thing he wanted was for his mother to scare Mariana off. ‘It’s fine. Nonno will have me to translate if he gets tired, and he has Lucia to look after him.’ The housekeeper, who kept everything on an even keel and kept an eye on Leo for Angelo.
‘Angelo. It breaks my heart seeing him fade and knowing I can do nothing to help.’ Her voice cracked. ‘Palliative care. O mio babbino caro.’
She was so upset that she was whispering the words rather than singing them as she usually would. Angelo dug his nails into his palms. He couldn’t fix this. Nobody could. But he was going to make sure his grandfather was happy before they lost him for ever. He was going to bring joy to Leo Moretti’s last days, whatever it took. ‘I know, Mamma. It’s hard.’
‘And you’re a good boy. So like your father. Roderick would be so proud of you.’
Angelo had followed in his father’s footsteps as far as his career was concerned, even joining the same legal firm. His marriage and the children he’d thought he’d have were a very different matter.
‘Would you have time to come and see us when you’re in Italy?’
He knew what his mother wasn’t saying. They all understood why he would find seeing the baby difficult. And he also knew he had to face it, for his sister’s sake. He had to put his family’s needs first instead of being selfish and trying to protect himself from having old scars ripped open. ‘If Mariana stays to do the photographs, I’ll come up to Rome for the afternoon. I’ll get the train.’
‘Try, Angelo. Cammie worries.’
His younger sister was far less dramatic, but he took the point. ‘I know, Mamma. And there is no need to worry. Everything is going to be just fine.’
He’d make sure it was.
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