The Italian Girl (29 page)

When she’d mentioned her exhaustion to Roberto he’d looked concerned and suggested all she needed was a good rest. He’d promised there would be no concerts, no interviews and no parties during their break. She heard the rattle of the letterbox, and walked up the stairs to collect the post from the hall. There was one letter on the mat and she recognised the writing at once. Rosanna sat on the bottom stair and tore the envelope open.

San Borromeo Seminary

Bergamo

12th April

My dear Rosanna,

How are things with you? I try to keep up to date with your movements but it’s difficult now you’re such an international star! I hope that you will receive this letter in good time.

Rosanna, it’s four years since I have seen you. For reasons I and others do not understand, you and Roberto have not been back to Italy. Maybe you’re simply both too busy. So I think I must try to visit you. I have a little money saved, and if you’re in London soon I would very much like to fly over and see you. The beginning of May would suit me, as I have a few days’ break from the seminary. Could you let me know what dates are suitable and then I can book my ticket? I’ve told Papa of my plan and suggested he come with me, but he refuses to set foot on a plane. He plays all the records you’ve sent him, but I do hope one day you’ll return to La Scala so he can come and hear you sing live.

From her letters, Carlotta seems fine and Ella is growing fast. She’ll soon be thirteen. I doubt you’ll recognise her when you next see her. The café has just been renovated, with a brand-new fitted kitchen, a proper bar and new tables and chairs. Papa has spent a fortune, but hopes to recoup it by putting up the prices this summer.

I can hardly believe it’s almost four years since I entered the seminary. And still another three years until I am ordained. I have to admit that sometimes I find I miss the outside world and look forward to the short recesses in the summer, but I’m still confident I made the right decision.

How is Abi? Do you ever hear from her? If you do, send her my love and best wishes.

I must end now for I have a class. Please let me know if May would be convenient for you.

Are you happy, Rosanna? I hope so.

All my love,
piccolina
.

Luca x

Rosanna sighed as she folded up the letter and slotted it back into the envelope. The past two years had been wonderful, but her one regret was that she had been unable to see her family, although she had begged her father and Carlotta to come to London to see her. She also felt guilty that not only had she failed to inform Abi of her marriage at the time, she’d subsequently neglected to keep in regular touch with her. The simple truth was that her own life revolved around Roberto and their love.

She went into the sitting room and checked the calendar on the desk. There was a weekend at the beginning of May, just after they began rehearsals for
La Bohème
, when Roberto was booked to give two concerts in Geneva. Usually she would accompany him, but she could just as easily remain in London and have Luca to stay then. She wanted to give her brother her full attention and, with Roberto around, Rosanna knew that would be difficult. She sat down at the desk, pulled paper and an envelope out of the drawer and began to write to Luca.

‘
Principessa
.’ She jumped as warm hands encircled her shoulders and Roberto leant down to kiss the top of her head. ‘Where did you go? I woke up and you were not there.’

‘I didn’t want to disturb you, darling.’ She smiled as he massaged her shoulders. ‘And I’ve had a letter from my brother. He’s going to fly to London to see me. I’m going to suggest he comes when you go to Geneva.’

‘We will be apart for three days?’

‘Yes, but it’s such a long time since I saw any of my family. I miss them, Roberto. Surely you won’t begrudge me this time with my brother?’

‘Of course not,’ he sighed guiltily. ‘We both know this is my fault. I’ll pine for you every moment I am away. Let me look at you.’ Roberto tilted her face up towards him and shook his head. ‘Still pale,’ he remarked. ‘I think you should come back to bed. It’s too early to be up.’

‘But will you let me sleep?’ she laughed, as a hand snaked inside her robe.

‘Later,
cara
, later.’ With that, Roberto picked her up from the chair and carried her back up the stairs towards the bedroom.

Even though Rosanna rested for the next seven days, she found she felt no better. She couldn’t shake off the exhaustion and often felt dizzy and faint. By the end of the week, when it was obvious that rest alone was not the answer, Roberto made her an appointment with his doctor and insisted on accompanying her to Harley Street.

‘Shall I come in with you?’ he asked as Rosanna was called into the consulting room.

Rosanna shook her head firmly. ‘Wait for me here.’

‘As you wish, but make sure you tell Dr Hardy exactly how you feel.’

‘I will,’ she promised as she followed the nurse down the corridor.

Dr Hardy gave Rosanna a full physical check-up.

‘I have nothing bad wrong with me, do I?’ she asked nervously, once Dr Hardy had finished his examination.

‘Not at all. Quite the opposite, in fact. You’re in excellent health. And, from what I can tell, so is your baby.’

‘I . . .’ Rosanna was stunned. The thought had not even crossed her mind. ‘Are you sure?’

‘Ninety-nine per cent sure, yes. We’ll obviously double-check by sending your sample to the lab. You had no idea that the symptoms you’re experiencing could be the result of early pregnancy?’

‘No. My cycle has never been regular and’ – Rosanna blushed – ‘Roberto and I, we . . . we’ve always been careful.’

‘Well, these things do happen, Mrs Rossini. The little darlings sometimes arrive without being expected or planned.’

‘How pregnant am I?’ she asked.

‘I’d say you’re in your third month, perhaps a little more than that.’ He studied her pale face. ‘Once you’ve accepted the idea, I’m sure it’ll be one of which you’ll approve.’

‘Yes.’ Rosanna stood up. ‘Thank you, Dr Hardy.’

‘Give me a call tomorrow, Mrs Rossini. We must organise a scan and decide which hospital you want to give birth in.’

Dazed, Rosanna walked down the corridor towards the waiting room. Immediately, Roberto saw her anxious expression and stood up, but she walked straight towards the door and he followed her out onto the street.

‘
Amore mio
, please, tell me. What did the doctor say? Was it bad news?’

‘Oh Roberto.’ Rosanna crumpled into his arms and burst into tears.

‘Whatever it is, we can solve it. I’ll get the best doctors or surgeons, whatever you need. Please don’t cry, my darling, Roberto is here.’

‘You’ll be angry with me. This is my fault. I—’

‘Rosanna! Please! Just tell me what is wrong with you?’ Roberto entreated in frustration.

Her shoulders sagged and she stared down at her feet. ‘I’m going to have a baby.’

Roberto looked blankly at her. ‘A baby? You mean, my baby?’

‘Of course!’

‘But . . . but this is the most wonderful news I’ve ever heard! I, Roberto Rossini, am going to be a papa!’ He let out a yelp of joy, then picked Rosanna up in his arms and twirled her round, covering her face with kisses. ‘Oh my clever girl, my clever mamma! When is our baby due?’

‘The doctor said he thought mid-November, but I need a scan to make sure of the date. You’re not angry with me?’ she asked as he set her down.

‘Angry?’ Roberto rolled his eyes in mock despair. ‘Rosanna, what do you take me for? When I’m told that the woman I love is to have my child and make me a papa for the first time, you think I might be angry? You silly girl! I’m overjoyed, over the moon and probably over the hill to be starting a family, but you have once again made me the happiest man in the world. Come.’ He took her hand. ‘We will go and celebrate.’

Rosanna watched Roberto as he sat down opposite her in Le Caprice and ordered a bottle of vintage champagne, apologising profusely when she reminded him gently that she was not supposed to drink alcohol.

‘I’m sorry,
cara
,’ he said, summoning the waiter back and ordering an orange juice for her. ‘I just cannot believe it. I want to celebrate with the whole world,’ he laughed. ‘Just imagine how talented the child will be. With our voices, he or she will be blessed with a superlative gift. We must think of names and which bedroom will make the most suitable nursery. Should we buy a bigger house, do you think? Perhaps our child should grow up in the country, where the air is fresher . . .’

Rosanna listened to Roberto’s excited chatter, unable to catch his enthusiasm. Eventually, she said, ‘But, Roberto, what about my career?’

‘Well, of course there should be no problem with you singing
La Bohème
in July. I shall be there to make sure you rest and take care of yourself. Then, once that is finished, you must remain in London and nest until the baby is born.’

‘But we’re due in New York in October. What happens then?’

Roberto shrugged. ‘The Met will understand. Women have babies all the time. I’ll have to go alone.’

‘And leave me behind in London for a month? Couldn’t I come with you?’ Rosanna felt the tears welling.

‘Rosanna, the airline will not carry a heavily pregnant woman – even a star such as you. Besides, it’s only for a month.’

‘Perhaps I could take a boat?’

‘And what if you went into early labour? You’d be putting yourself and our child at risk at so late a stage in your pregnancy. I’m sure Dr Hardy will agree that you should be relaxing at home in the last few weeks.’

‘Couldn’t you cancel the Met?’

Roberto shook his head. ‘No, Rosanna, you know I could not.’

‘I cancelled for you when it was necessary,’ she shot back.

He eyed her across the table. ‘That’s unfair, Rosanna. It’s the premiere of a new opera and these chances don’t come along often. I shall be back by your side when you have the baby and I have only occasional concerts until after Christmas. Then, well, we shall see. Please,
cara
, don’t think about the bad things. Let us enjoy this wonderful news, this gift from God. You do want this baby, don’t you?’

She looked at him and nodded. ‘Of course I do.’

Over the following few days, it was impossible not to let Roberto’s euphoria affect her and Rosanna began to get used to the idea that she was to be a mother. The nagging doubts about having a baby and the way it would complicate her perfect existence began to lessen. Her career would have to go on hold for a few months, but there was no reason for her not to return to singing after the birth. Babies travelled abroad all the time these days. She’d hire a good nanny and the problem would be solved.

Roberto wanted to tell everybody he knew of the impending arrival, but Rosanna swore him to secrecy.

‘Let me tell my family first,’ she’d said. ‘I’ll break the news to Luca when I see him in two weeks’ time and then write to Papa.’

26

‘Ladies and gentlemen, please return to your seats. We are now commencing the descent to Heathrow.’

Forty-five minutes later, Luca pushed his trolley out of customs and into the arrivals hall. He spotted Rosanna leaning anxiously over the barrier. The sight of her made Luca catch his breath. Last time he had seen his sister, she’d still been a young girl. Now she looked like a woman. Her hair had been cut to just above her shoulders and hung in shiny waves around her face. Her features had matured and the light make-up she was wearing enhanced her natural beauty.

‘Luca!’ Rosanna saw him and ran towards him, opening her arms and hugging him to her. ‘I can’t believe you’re here. Oh, it’s so wonderful to see you!’

‘For me too,
piccolina
.’

‘Come, there’s a car waiting outside to take us home.’

At the Kensington house, Rosanna led Luca downstairs to the kitchen. As she busied herself making coffee, he wandered round the kitchen, admiring the space and examining the photographs on the dresser. They settled down at the table nursing a mug each.

‘This is a beautiful home, Rosanna. A little more comfortable than our apartment in Naples, wouldn’t you say?’

‘Yes. Roberto and I love it.’

Luca leant across the table and took her hands in his. ‘So here we are, brother and sister reunited after far too long. You look radiant, Rosanna. You have the same face, the same body, but you are so . . . sophisticated now.’

‘Am I?’

Luca saw that this seemed to please her. ‘Yes. I still remember when you were a shy little girl. And now, your clothes, your hair . . . your perfect English.’ He smiled. ‘You’re a cosmopolitan woman.’

‘It’s not a bad change, is it?’

‘Of course not. Everyone grows up.’

‘Well, I’m still that same little girl inside. I can’t believe it’s almost four years since I last saw you. You look thinner, Luca. Do they feed you in the seminary?’

‘Of course they do,’ he chuckled.

There was a pause, then both of them spoke at once.

‘Have you—’

‘Are you—’

They laughed. Rosanna shook her head. ‘There’s so much to tell, I really don’t know where to start. And I want to hear all about Papa and Carlotta and Ella. But we have three days, so maybe we should start with you. Are you happy, Luca? Was it the right decision?’

‘I think that after all those years of searching, I have found my calling, yes.’ He took another sip of coffee. ‘Of course, it’s impossible to be happy all the time, and sometimes I feel that what I must learn in the seminary has less to do with God and more to do with human tradition. There are so many rules and regulations, some of which I feel might restrict the work that I wish to do in the future.’ He shrugged. ‘But I’m fine, really, maybe just too eager to get out there and begin to help.’