The Italian Girl (56 page)

Rosanna walked with him out of the sitting room and towards the front door.

‘I will go and say goodbye to Nico at the hospital,’ he muttered.

‘Of course.’

‘Anything . . . anything you need for him or yourself, just ask. I will not let my pride get in the way, as I did in the past.’

‘Thank you, Roberto.’

‘I must feel you in my arms one last time.’

She went to him, and they stood holding each other as if it was impossible for either of them to let go.

Rosanna felt that her heart might actually break in two. ‘Thank you for understanding. I will never stop loving you. Never,’ she whispered.

‘Nor I you.’ He tipped her chin up towards him and they kissed for the last time, their tears mingling. ‘I will be waiting for you,
principessa
. Always.’

The Metropolitan Opera House, New York

So, Nico, that was how Roberto left us for a second time. It will be very hard for you to understand how your mamma could love someone the way I loved your papa, yet know I had to let him go. I had sent him away, after all those times I’d been alone and desperate for him. But I knew it was my only chance.

We saw each other occasionally over the next two years. I was determined I would not deprive you of your papa, however hard it was for me. I knew how much you loved spending time with him. Roberto insisted on sending you to all the best specialists to see if your hearing could be improved, but there was little they could do – the damage was irreversible.

It was ironic, Nico, as, when I did see your father, I really felt he
had
changed for the better. It was as if, after all those years of behaving like a child, he’d finally grown up. There was a quietness, a wistful quality about him that seemed to have replaced the arrogance of the past.

Then one day, as we watched you playing in the garden, he told me he was going to curtail his heavy work schedule. He would still sing, but he’d had a mild heart attack and the doctors had recommended a strict diet and a much quieter lifestyle. He was going to live at the villa in Corsica and any time we wished to visit, we were welcome. I knew, of course, that while I would send you, it was wrong to go myself. Any more than a few hours with him and I’d be back to where I started. And yet, we never discussed divorce. It was unimportant to me. I knew I would never marry again and he knew he wouldn’t either.

I won’t say that period was easy for me, but I’d spent so much of my past living for Roberto, I was determined to make the most of each second I had in the present. That is why I tell you now, Nico, to hold on to and appreciate every moment. Never let a day slip by without taking the most from it, because you will never have that day again.

And I was so lucky I had you. I was very proud of you, Nico, the way you adapted to your disability. With the help of the best hearing aid, it was possible for you to continue a relatively normal life. There was frustration, but there was a lot of laughter as well. And what you couldn’t hear, you made up for with your eyes. You missed nothing.

And Ella, my dear, sweet Ella. The summer after Roberto left, she won a place at the Royal Academy of Music. Roberto not only insisted on paying her fees, but we also agreed she could use our house in Kensington, where he visited her whenever he was in England. He was so very caring towards her and the two of them struck up a close friendship.

As for my own career . . . well, after what had happened to you, I couldn’t bear the thought of ever leaving you again.

There was only one thing that troubled me. I hadn’t heard directly from Luca since our argument, apart from a number of postcards from Zambia all written to you. There was never a forwarding address. And Abi, too, was distant. At the time, I believed it was because she was so wrapped up in her successful career as a novelist and I didn’t give it much thought . . .

53

Gloucestershire, March 1985

Rosanna left the church hall, hating the moment when she left Nico at playgroup. But it was important for him to socialise with other children, to live as normal a life as possible. He loved going there and the organiser had assured her that he was getting along just fine.

She checked her watch. She had three hours to kill. Usually, she’d drive home and spend the time doing domestic chores. But today Rosanna decided she’d do some shopping instead.

Entering a small boutique, Rosanna picked out a new outfit for Nico and a scarf for Ella. She emerged carrying her parcels and walked down the bustling Cheltenham street. Ambling past a bookshop, she paused and looked in the window. It was filled with a large display of Abi’s new book.

‘Aria’

The title filled her with curiosity. She’d bought a couple of Abi’s books before and had read them with enjoyment. Rosanna pushed open the door to the shop and walked across to the table on which a pile of Abi’s books were stacked.

‘Personally signed by the author,’ read the banner above the pile. Rosanna wondered why, if Abi had been in the area for a signing event, she hadn’t popped in to say hello. She picked up a copy and read the blurb on the back.

From the author of
Sometime Soon
and
Forever
comes a stunning new bestseller to delight her many fans. Taking a world she knows intimately, Abigail Holmes brings us a story set in the world of opera; a tale of forbidden love, ambition and the sins of the past that weave an intricate tangle of emotions.

Rosanna took a copy up to the desk and paid for it. Then she strolled along the street to a small teashop she was fond of. She ordered a coffee, sat down at a table, opened the book and began to read.

‘Hello.’

Rosanna looked up, startled.

‘Stephen, hello.’ Rosanna knew she was blushing.

‘How are you?’

‘Fine, very well.’ She felt awkward and embarrassed, but reasoned with herself that Stephen must have wanted to speak to her. He could easily have walked straight past.

‘How’s the family?’ he enquired.

‘They’re well, although I don’t see Roberto very often. He lives in Corsica these days.’

‘Does he? I had no idea. I thought you two were back together.’

‘We were, but then . . . well, it’s a long story,’ she shrugged. ‘Can I buy you a coffee?’

Stephen looked at his watch. ‘I’m meeting someone here in ten minutes, but yes, that would be nice.’

Rosanna ordered a coffee for both of them as Stephen sat down.

‘Stephen, I’ve been meaning to apologise to you for the past two years and, to be absolutely honest, well, I’ve never plucked up the courage to do it. Anyway, now we’ve met, I must say it: I behaved very badly and very selfishly and I’m terribly sorry, Stephen, really. Especially after all you did for me and Nico.’

‘Thank you, Rosanna. That means a lot.’ Stephen took a sip of his coffee. ‘I was devastated when Ella told me, and I have to admit I was pretty angry you didn’t even contact me to explain what had happened yourself. But,’ he shrugged, ‘it’s all water under the bridge now.’

‘I’m so sorry, Stephen. Can you forgive me?’

‘In my heart of hearts I always knew you’d go back to him. I knew I could never compete with the great Roberto Rossini. But I don’t regret our time together and I hope you don’t either. And yes,’ he added, ‘I forgive you.’

‘Thank you. I suppose all I can say is that I did come to my senses shortly after Roberto returned.’ Rosanna sighed. ‘It wasn’t only you I hurt, Stephen, and I’m ashamed of the way I behaved then. I ended up cutting myself off from many people who had cared for me.’

‘So tell me, just out of interest, after reuniting with Roberto, why are you now separated?’

‘Oh, it’s very complicated, but something happened to make me realise I was unhealthily obsessed with him.’

‘What was that?’

‘Nico became sick while I was abroad with Roberto. As a result of acute measles, he now has badly impaired hearing.’

Stephen looked stunned. ‘Oh Rosanna, I really am sorry. The poor little chap.’

‘Yes. It was hard for all of us. But I’m happy to say he’s now doing well.’ Rosanna took a sip of her coffee. ‘Anyway, how are you? How’s the gallery?’

‘Fine, and yes, the gallery’s going very well. I’ve just bought an old house on the other side of Cheltenham. It’s being renovated at the moment, so I’m out antique-hunting. Maybe you and Nico would like to come over and see it sometime? I’d love to see him again. I really was awfully fond of him.’

‘That’s kind of you, Stephen, but—’

‘Rosanna, there’s no reason why we can’t be friends, is there?’

‘No, of course not,’ she agreed.

‘Ah, there she is.’ Stephen looked up as the teashop door opened. A willowy blonde walked towards them and Stephen stood up.

‘Rosanna, this is my wife, Kate.’

‘Rosanna Rossini! Oh, I’m so pleased to meet you. I don’t know much about opera, I’m afraid, but Stephen’s talked about you often.’ There was no edge to Kate’s voice, just genuine warmth as she held out her hand.

‘And it’s lovely to meet you, too,’ Rosanna replied.

‘I think I told you that Rosanna has a lovely little boy, darling. I’ve invited them over to the house for a cup of tea.’

‘Great, we’d love to have you,’ smiled Kate. ‘Now, I’m sorry to drag him away, but we’ve got heaps of shopping to do. Houses don’t decorate themselves unfortunately.’

‘Yes, darling, we must get on.’ Stephen stood up. ‘Thanks for the coffee, Rosanna. We’ll give you a ring and make a date. Take care of yourself.’

‘Goodbye, Stephen. Bye, Kate.’

Wistfully, she watched Stephen wrap a tender arm round his wife as they left the teashop. But there was no point in dwelling on what might have been, and she was glad to see him happy and settled. She glanced down at her watch and saw she was already ten minutes late picking up Nico.

Rosanna ran up the path to the church hall. Nico stood peering out of the front door.

‘Ah, Mrs Rossini, we were wondering where you’d got to,’ said Mrs Price, the playgroup organiser.

‘I’m so sorry, I bumped into an old friend and lost track of the time. Come on, darling.’ Rosanna picked Nico up in her arms and walked towards the car park.

At three in the morning, Rosanna finished Abi’s book. She had enjoyed it immensely and it had made her feel very nostalgic for the world she’d left behind. She turned off the light and lay in the dark, thinking how much she missed Abi. She decided that next time she was in London she would drop in on her. It had been too long.

Two weeks later, after a visit to the ear, nose and throat specialist in London, Rosanna stood on the pavement outside the hospital and turned to Nico.

‘Shall we catch a taxi to see Auntie Abi?’ she asked him, exaggerating the words, which the specialist said would help him as he learnt to lip-read.

Nico nodded excitedly at the thought of a ride in a big black cab. ‘Yes please, Mamma.’

Rosanna hailed the next taxi that passed.

‘Fulham Road, please,’ she said as the two of them climbed inside.

Rosanna rang the bell of Abi’s ground-floor flat. And two minutes later, Abi opened the front door. She was wearing a pair of old jeans and a grubby T-shirt and her face had black smudges on it.

‘What are you doing here?’ she said in astonishment.

‘Oh, that’s nice, Abi. Your old friend drops in for a coffee and you’re obviously not pleased to see her,’ Rosanna teased her.

‘No, I . . .’ Abi looked flustered. ‘It’s just that it’s not an awfully good time at the moment. I’m moving tomorrow.’

‘We won’t stay long, will we, Nico?’ Rosanna smiled. ‘Will you make us stand on the doorstep forever, Abi?’

‘No.’ Abi shrugged resignedly. ‘You’d better come in.’

Rosanna and Nico followed her down the hall and into the flat. The sitting room was full of tea chests and newspaper.

‘Where are you moving to?’

‘A house in Notting Hill. I needed somewhere for . . . well, somewhere bigger.’

‘The writing must be paying off then! That sounds exciting.’ Rosanna watched as Abi knelt on the floor and began to wrap up a glass. ‘Abi.’ Rosanna knelt next to her and put a hand on her arm.

‘Yes?’

‘Why have you done your best to avoid seeing me for the last two years?’

Abi concentrated on her packing and didn’t look up. ‘Oh, you know how it is. We’ve both been so busy and . . . it’s just one of those things. It’s good to see you now, though.’

‘You don’t seem like you mean that. I read your latest book, by the way. It was wonderful. It evoked so many memories.’

Abi finally looked up and smiled. ‘Thank you. Look, Rosanna, I really don’t want to be rude, but could we arrange a time to meet for lunch or something? I have so much to do this afternoon.’

‘Okay.’ Rosanna stood up. ‘Come on, Nico,’ she sighed.

Abi followed them to the door.

‘It was good to see you, Abi. I really hope we can get together soon.’

‘And so do I . . . but the thing is . . .’

A high-pitched cry came from one of the rooms at the back of the flat.

‘I have to go. She’s crying again.’

‘You have a baby?’ Rosanna looked at her in amazement.

‘Yes, well . . .’

‘Abi, why didn’t you tell me? Oh, I must see her!’

Before Abi could stop her, Rosanna was back inside the flat and walking down the corridor. She led Nico through the door and into a small but pretty pink and white nursery. There, sitting up in the cot, was a child of about eighteen months.

‘Hello, little one, it’s your Auntie Rosanna come to visit you.’ She went to the window, drew back the curtains and turned back to the cot. ‘
Cara
, come to—’ Rosanna stopped speaking abruptly as she stared at the baby.

Abi was standing at the door of the nursery, her face expressionless.