There was an awkward moment when it became clear that Luke meant to spend the night on the sofa.

‘Oh, but there’s no need for that,’ said Angela, anxious to be broad-minded. ‘I mean-just because we’re here there’s no need for you to do anything different-’

‘Let it go,’ Harold begged, covering his eyes.

‘But I only-’

‘Darling, they know their own business best. Come to bed. Goodnight, you two.’

He said the last words hastily and almost carried his wife out of the room.

When they had gone Luke regarded her gleefully. ‘I think I’ve just been given your mother’s permission to-’

‘Yes, I know what she’s given you permission to-’ she said with heavy irony. ‘Thank you for being nice to my parents. Now, I think I’ll go to bed.’

‘Are you sure you don’t want me to come with you? Since it’s all right with your mother-’

‘Luke, I’m warning you-’

‘All right. It was worth a try.’ He gave a melancholy sigh. ‘Back to the sofa.’

‘Goodnight.’ She was laughing.

He grinned. ‘Goodnight.’

Next morning his mutual admiration society with Angela was increased when, owing to a failure in communication, she walked into the bathroom while he was in the shower. Retreating in haste, she confided to her daughter, ‘He’s got ever such nice legs, dear.’

‘Mum! Does your husband know that you notice men’s legs?’

‘Only too well,’ Harold moaned. ‘I can’t take her on the beach.’

She regarded them fondly. They had been married for fifty years and they were like a pair of crazy, loving children. This was how marriage should be, and how it so seldom was.

They’ve found a secret that I’ll never find, she thought. If I’d known, I might never have lost him.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

OVER breakfast Luke called his mother, then announced that he was taking them all to the villa that night. Her parents exchanged looks and Olympia realised with dismay that this had given another twist to the screw of her supposed love affair with Luke.

But it was hard to deny it right now when she was still sore from Primo’s behaviour. At least Luke was saving her face, which perhaps was his kindly intention. Living together was possible because his manner towards her was never loverlike.

Then she put the thought aside to concentrate on making her parents’ visit memorable. They were guests of honour at the villa, treated like royalty, with the whole family lined up on the steps to greet them.

Toni kissed Angela’s hand, followed by Francesco, then Carlo, then Ruggiero, then-

‘Look who’s here,’ Hope said excitedly to Olympia. ‘But I expect you already knew.’

‘No, I didn’t know Primo was back,’ she said, trying to catch her breath.

She felt her hand taken into his, the shock of his warmth and strength. She was struggling to clear her head.

‘I haven’t contacted Enrico yet,’ he said. ‘But when I called home and Mamma said we had honoured guests, of course I had to be here.’

‘Of course,’ she murmured.

It was six weeks since she’d seen him, and he’d changed. His hair had lost its slightly shaggy look and was trimmed back neat and severe against his skull. It made him look older and slightly stern. Then she realised that the real change was in his face. He had lost weight and there were shadows under his eyes, which seemed darker, yet more brilliant.

Olympia suddenly remembered her mother’s remarks about her own looks. So he too had lain awake through long, lonely nights, thinking of how different things might have been.

He greeted Angela and Harold with perfect courtesy, but with a slight reserve that afterwards made Angela whisper to her daughter, ‘I don’t like him as much as his brother.’

Hope swept the two elderly people away for a glass of wine. Primo surveyed Luke, standing just behind Olympia.

‘Allow me to congratulate you,’ he said, ‘on your engagement.’

Olympia made a helpless gesture. ‘Primo-look-’

She was about to say that there was no engagement, but Primo continued, ‘And, while we’re being formal, allow me to introduce Signorina Galina Mantini.’

Out of the corner of her eye Olympia had just noticed a young woman coming towards them. Now she registered that this was the most astoundingly lovely creature she had ever seen. She seemed to be about eighteen, with honey-blonde hair that reached almost to her waist, and a flawless, peachy skin. She laid a possessive hand on Primo’s arm, gazed at him adoringly and giggled.

‘Galina, this is my brother, Luke, and his fiancée, Olympia.’

The glorious Galina put out her hand and said, ‘Buon giorno,’ in a soft, ravishing voice.

Olympia pulled herself together to return the greeting. Outwardly controlled, inwardly she was hurt and angry. Her own sadness of the last few weeks suddenly seemed like a mockery. She’d thought his feelings were as deep as her own, when she’d merely been a passing fancy.

You should have known! How often had she said that about him? She hadn’t been ready for this. But she ought to have been.

She was too preoccupied to notice Luke’s eyes, flickering this way and that, bright with malicious interest. As they moved on into the house Luke gave his brother an understanding nod, which Primo met with a set, rigid face. But she didn’t see that either.

Her parents seemed to be instinctively on everyone’s wavelength, especially Grandpapa Rinucci, who seized on them with delight.

‘What a fascinating man,’ Angela said when she’d briefly escaped his clutches. ‘Did you know he’s actually seen Vesuvius erupt?’

‘In 1944,’ Luke said with a grin, ‘soon after Italy was liberated. It lasted three days and he managed to grab a piece of lava as a souvenir. Ever since then he knows when the volcano is speaking to him personally. When anyone isn’t telling the truth it sends a plume of smoke into the air.’

He said this like someone reciting words often recited before and Angela chuckled. ‘You’ve heard it all before, haven’t you?’ she asked.

‘Only about a thousand times,’ Luke groaned.

‘But we’re really grateful to you,’ said Toni, who was listening nearby. ‘It’s a long time since the old man had a brand new audience.’

Angela looked around her in delight, taking in the warmth of the whole family.

‘You’re so lucky,’ she told Hope. ‘So many sons and so good-looking.’

‘But you too are lucky,’ Hope said. ‘The sadness of my life is that I didn’t have a daughter. I would have liked one as much like yours as possible.’ Then she added conspiratorially, ‘But perhaps soon you will share her with me?’

Angela nodded, also conspiratorial.

‘Sons are a great trial,’ Hope confided. ‘I have six, and how many have brought girls to their mother’s party tonight? Only two.’

Her accusing gaze fell on Carlo, who reddened.

‘Mamma-I did explain-’

‘I do not wish to discuss it,’ she informed him loftily. ‘Except to say that I have heard of that incident, and you should be ashamed of yourself.’

‘I am, Mamma,’ he said unconvincingly.

Ruggiero, his twin, chimed in beside him. ‘He is. He’s very ashamed of himself. And I’m ashamed for him.’

Under his mother’s withering glance he fell silent. When Hope was sure she’d reduced her menfolk to abject submission she turned back to Angela.

‘You should give thanks you never had boys,’ she told her. ‘They are nothing but trouble. But at least two of my sons are behaving properly tonight.’

Her smiling glance included Luke and Olympia, then Primo and Galina. She seemed to be waiting for someone to say something. But nobody did. At last Ruggiero said, with the air of a man desperate to break the silence, ‘Francesco is bringing his girlfriend tonight.’

‘Good. At least one of you knows his duty. And there he is.’

She went forward to greet Francesco who had appeared with a pretty, modest-looking young woman. Hope made much of her, to the knowing grins of the others.

Dinner was a riot. Harold was seated next to Grandpapa Rinucci, who spoke good English which, as he would tell anyone who would listen, he’d learned from the Allies in 1944. That was when Vesuvius-

And Harold won his eternal friendship by saying, ‘Tell me about Vesuvius. It’s fascinating.’ Just as if he hadn’t heard it once already.

To the amusement of the others, they plunged into an animated discussion. Letting her eyes drift past them, Olympia saw Primo and Galina, their heads together, absorbed in each other. Or maybe it was her plunging neckline that absorbed him, she thought bitterly. He hadn’t waited long before replacing her. She’d been right not to trust him.

Having taken centre stage, Grandpapa Rinucci flowered. ‘And when are you coming back for the wedding?’ he demanded of Angela.

‘Which wedding?’ she asked eagerly.

‘Any wedding. Primo’s to Galina, Luke’s to Olympia. We should have more weddings.’

‘Count me out,’ Olympia said firmly. ‘I’m concentrating on my career. In fact, I don’t even believe in love.’

‘Oh, darling, don’t say things like that,’ Angela begged. ‘She doesn’t mean it.’

‘Yes, she does,’ Olympia declared, desperate to seize the chance to say this. ‘Love is a snare for the unwary. My career is all I want.’

Before anyone could answer, there was a soft rumbling in the distance. At once a silence descended on the entire company and their heads turned towards the window.

The rumbling came again, and with one movement they all rose and went out on to the terrace. In the distance a soft plume of smoke rose into the night air and disappeared.

‘Is it going to erupt?’ Angela asked, thrilled.

‘No, these little grumbles happen a lot,’ Hope reassured her. ‘It means nothing.’