Today Ruggiero went downstairs for breakfast. Polly found herself sitting next to Toni, who seemed eager to talk to her. She’d seen little of him before, but now she found him a gentle, soft-spoken man, full of joy about his new grandson.

‘You won’t stay away too long, will you?’ he asked anxiously.

‘That’s up to Hope,’ she said. ‘She’s arranging everything.’

For a moment his eyes rested fondly on his wife.

‘Yes,’ he said. ‘She knows just how to make everything right.’

After breakfast she called the friends caring for Matthew to say she was on her way. Then she went looking for Ruggiero, and found him in the garden, sitting on a fallen log, looking at his clasped hands.

‘I’ve left you some of those pills, but use them sparingly,’ she said.

‘I probably won’t need them. I feel better now I’m up.’

‘Good. But don’t overdo it.’ A sudden suspicion made her add, ‘Don’t go back to work.’

‘I’ll just drop in to talk to my partner. No racing, I promise.’

‘Your partner can visit you here.’

‘And let him see me looking like an invalid? Forget it.’

‘Is there any way to get some sense into you?’

‘Nope, so stop wasting your time.’

There was a sulphurous silence. Then he grinned reluctantly.

‘Sorry if I give you a hard time.’

But she had his measure by now. ‘You’re not sorry. That ritual apology is just to shut me up.’

‘Well, it’s failed, hasn’t it? As a matter of interest, has anyone ever actually managed to shut you up?’

‘Would I tell you?’

‘Not if you were wise.’ He grinned again, more warmly this time. ‘I promise to be good while you’re gone.’

He brightened suddenly.

‘You and my mother have a lot in common. The way you took your fiancé’s consent for granted was very like her. What’s his name, by the way?’

‘Brian,’ she said quickly. ‘And he’ll understand about my coming back here. After all, it won’t be for long.’

‘What did he say when you called to tell him?’

‘I haven’t done that yet.’

‘You’d better hurry if you want him to meet you at the airport.’

‘He can’t. He’s a hospital doctor and he’s on night duty at the moment,’ she said, repeating the story she’d mapped out. ‘I’d better go and get ready.’

Before she could move he reached out and took her hand.

‘A moment,’ he said. ‘I want to ask you a favour.’

But he stopped there, as though it was hard for him to go on.

‘What can I do for you?’ she asked gently.

His hand tightened on hers.

‘When you get home-do you have any more pictures of her?’

‘Yes, I have plenty. I’ll bring some of them to you.’

‘Bring them all. Everything-please.’

‘There are a lot of blanks to be filled in, aren’t there?’

‘I used to think I’d have the chance to fill them in one day. I never thought it would be like this, when it’s too late to make any difference.’

But it could still make a difference, she thought. It would help him learn to relate to his son, and she would do everything in her power to help that happen.

‘You’d better let me go,’ she said, wincing slightly.

He seemed to return from a distance, to realise that he was gripping her hand hard. He made an exclamation as he released it and began to rub it between his two hands.

‘I think the circulation’s started again now,’ she said lightly.

‘I’m sorry-again. Hell! Why don’t I just give you a big apology now, and hopefully it’ll cover everything in the future?’

‘Well, I’m leaving in a couple of hours,’ she said lightly. ‘You won’t have time to annoy me before then.’

‘You underestimate me. Let’s go in.’

He helped her to her feet and they walked indoors, briefly in accord.

CHAPTER FIVE

THEY were to spend two nights in England-the first in Polly’s home and the second with Justin and Evie, who were eager to see the new arrival.

During the flight Hope asked about Polly’s fiancé, assuming, as Ruggiero had done, that he would meet them. Polly repeated the excuse about ‘Brian’s’ night duty, and Hope seemed to accept it.

Although the matriarch of an Italian family, Hope was English, and she knew the country well.

‘How do you come to live in London if you come from Yorkshire?’ she asked.

‘I was engaged several years ago, but we broke up. I wanted to get away so I came south. Freda joined me when she became ill.’

‘And the baby is-how old?’

‘Eighteen months.’

‘Is he walking?’

‘Oh, yes, he’s well grown. He took his first tentative step at nine months.’

‘So did Ruggiero,’ Hope said with satisfaction. ‘He and Carlo competed to see who could walk first, and they’ve been vying with each other ever since.’

They were to collect Matthew the next morning, as it would be too late to do it that day. The light was fading when they arrived in the evening. When they had sent out for a take-away meal, and were sitting together in the tiny kitchen, Hope said gently, ‘Why don’t you tell me the things you couldn’t say in front of Ruggiero?’

Faced with this kindly understanding, Polly explained everything. At the end Hope nodded sadly.

‘He said very little when he got home-something about a “holiday romance”, but so casually that it seemed to mean nothing. I should have seen through that, but there had been so many-’ She made a sad gesture.

‘I imagine he was very determined to keep his secrets?’ Polly suggested. ‘Freda summed him up as “love ’em and leave ’em,” and maybe for a man like that…’ She hesitated, but Hope understood.

‘It would be very difficult to find that he was the one left,’ she filled in. ‘That must have made it harder for him to cope with. I wonder how much more there was?’

‘I don’t know-and I’m sure he doesn’t,’ Polly reflected. ‘It was all built on fantasies, because he knew nothing about her-not that she was married, or that she had a secret agenda. He didn’t even know her real name. I know how you must feel about her, but please don’t hate her.’

‘Once I might have done,’ Hope admitted. ‘But she ended so sadly that I must forgive her. Is this where you lived together?’

‘Yes, until just a few weeks ago. Then she went into hospital for the last time.’

‘She was beautiful,’ Hope said, studying the pictures.

‘It was more than just beauty. She had that extra “something” that we’d all like to have. A kind of magic. I think he’s been trying to cope by pretending to himself that that it really was just a holiday romance. He might have managed it if I hadn’t turned up. Now he has to face what actually happened, and I don’t think he knows how.’

‘But you’ll help him, won’t you?’ Hope urged. ‘You are special to him because of her. You’re the only one he can turn to now. I, his mother, say so.’

‘I’ll do my best. I want things to turn out well for little Matthew.’

‘And only for him? Oh, yes-you are engaged to be married, aren’t you? I forgot.’

When they had gone to bed Polly lay awake, feeling the little flat full of ghosts. Freda seemed to be here again, chattering feverishly about herself and her conquests, especially Ruggiero.

‘He was so strong, Polly, and that makes a man so much more exciting. He’d hold me tight in his arms and love me and love me and love me, all through the night. But he always had energy for more.’

By then her sickness had been far advanced, her beauty gone, and Polly had listened kindly to the tales of triumphs that would never come again.

‘He’s an athlete, you know,’ Freda had purred. ‘Likes to live an active life. Well, I could see that as soon as he was naked-all well-developed muscles and not an ounce of fat. Just looking at him, I knew he was made for love.’ Then she’d given Polly a sideways glance, with a touch of malice. ‘I don’t disturb you, talking like that, do I?’

‘No,’ Polly had said. ‘You don’t.’

It was true. In those days Ruggiero had had no reality for her. Freda’s descriptions had conjured up no pictures.

But things had changed. Now that she’d seen him and held him in her arms the words came alive with vivid meaning.

‘I knew he was made for love.’

She sat up sharply, breathing hard, staring into the darkness.

‘Nonsense,’ she said to herself.

Suddenly it was impossible to sleep. She had to get up and walk restlessly about.

‘It’s getting to me,’ she muttered. ‘I need to finish this, come home, get a job, live a normal life-whatever that is-and forget about him.’

It was impossible. She could vividly recall running her fingers over his skin, seeking injuries; a coolly professional action at the time, but one which brought her senses alive in retrospect.

But what affected her even more was the memory of him clasping her hand with painful intensity as he begged for some pictures of the woman he’d loved, and spoke the terrible words ‘too late’.

In her mind she heard Hope saying, ‘You are special to him,’ and was dismayed at the tiny flicker of pleasure she’d felt until Hope had quenched it by adding, ‘because of her.’

Special to him, but only because of her, she thought. I guess I’d better remember that, just in case I get any silly ideas.

She lay down again, and, by dint of talking sensibly to herself, finally managed to get to sleep.

Next morning was chaos. Iris, the friend caring for Matthew, called early to say that one of her own children was being whisked to hospital with a broken leg, and she needed to offload the baby fast.

‘Joe will pass your house on the way to the hospital.’

Joe, her husband, turned up half an hour later with Matthew. The toddler, sensing a crisis, was bawling at the top of his voice, drowning out Polly’s attempts to introduce Hope, enquire after the injured daughter, and thank him.