He made a wry face, full of self-condemnation.

‘That sounds easy, but it just doesn’t happen.’

‘You’re trying too hard-watching yourself all the time to see if you’ve got it right, watching him to see if he’s reacting as you want. Stop ticking boxes and let him show you the way.’

‘I was hoping you’d show me the way.’

She shook her head. ‘He’s a much better guide than I am. He’s such a warm-hearted little thing. He’ll love you if you let him.’

‘Maybe that’s my problem. I’m no good with love-of any kind. I get confused. Why don’t you give up on me? I’m a lost cause.’

‘Basta!’ she said, aiming a mock punch at his good shoulder. ‘Enough, all right?’

‘We’ll make an Italian of you yet.’

‘Yeah, sure. Basta is my one Italian word, and that’s only because Matti has latched onto it. You should try saying it to him. He won’t take any notice, any more than you would, but you’ll be on each other’s wavelength in no time.’

‘I’ll make a note.’

‘Don’t make a note,’ she said, tearing her hair. ‘He’s not an item on your works schedule.’ She took a deep breath, conscious of him giving her a quizzical look that was unsettling. ‘I’ll make things go right for you two or die in the attempt.’

He gave a laugh. ‘Don’t do that. How would I manage without you?’

‘You’re going to have to one day.’

‘Yes, I am, aren’t I?’ he said, sounding almost as though he’d just discovered it. ‘It just seems so natural, you being here-’

Ruggiero shook his head, puzzled at himself.

‘I’ve never relied on anyone before. When I was a little kid, just learning to walk, holding onto an adult, I used to snatch my hand away at the first chance because I had to do it alone. Of course I fell flat more often than not. Carlo was the clever one. He’d hold on until he was quite sure. But I had to kick the world in the teeth to show I didn’t need anyone’s help.’

‘Even then?’ she murmured, teasing.

‘Even then. But with you it’s always felt right. The day we met I was clinging to you for safety, even though I didn’t know it.’

‘In between pushing me away,’ she agreed, smiling.

He grinned. ‘I sent you flying with a great clout, didn’t I?’

‘Yes, I seem to remember you did!’

‘And the other night Matti did the same thing. Like father, like son.’

‘Not exactly,’ she chuckled. ‘He got the other side.’

He began to laugh, leaning back against the porch, watching her.

‘Why do you put up with us?’ he asked.

‘I can’t think. It must be something to do with that generous salary you’re paying me.’

‘Yes, that must be it.’

A contented silence fell. Leaning back against the other side of the steps, she met his eyes. Was he remembering the last time they had been alone together-what had happened-what had nearly happened?

‘By the way,’ Polly said, as casually as she could contrive, ‘I’m sorry I had that screaming fit. I never meant to weep and wail all over you. I don’t often do things like that.’

‘Not often enough. You released something that’s been building up for the past year, and which needed to be released. I’m glad I was the one there.’

He caught sight of her disbelieving face and said, ‘I mean it. I like to pay my debts.’

‘You do that in hard cash,’ she reminded him. ‘And plenty of it. I’m not complaining.’

‘Oh, yes, I can’t tell you what a good feeling it gives me to know that I’m contributing to Brian’s future comfort. I hope you’re spending something on yourself?’

‘Nope.’

‘None of it?’

‘What for? I have all I need.’

‘Not a pretty dress or a new pair of shoes?’ he asked, scandalised.

‘Your mother bought me all those new clothes.’

‘A luxurious meal out?’

‘Sure, with me fighting my way though an Italian menu and reducing everyone to fits of laughter.’

‘You’re right-it’s a terrible prospect. I shall appoint myself your translator for an evening. I know the perfect place. It’s time we had an evening out.’

‘I don’t think so,’ she said, remembering her resolve to be sensible.

‘I’m your patient and your employer. I have first call on your time. No argument.’

When she didn’t reply he asked, ‘Are you angry with me?’

‘Why should I be?’

‘The night before last I came to the verge of-well, forgetting my manners. All right, a little more than the verge. But for a moment you seemed to need me, and I was glad. I felt close to you. Surely you understand that?’

‘Yes, I do, but-’

‘But Brian wouldn’t, eh? All right, I should have respected that. But you can’t seriously be afraid of me.’ His voice became teasing. ‘I’ve never seen a woman more capable of punching a man’s lights out.’

‘Not with your injuries,’ she said lightly. ‘It would be unprofessional.’

‘If I offend you I give you leave to forget my injuries and make me sorry I was born.’

‘Who is offended?’ came a voice from behind them.

‘Nobody, Mamma. Polly and I were just planning a night out tomorrow. It’s time she had some fun.’

‘Of course. What a splendid idea!’

‘You see-it’s settled,’ Ruggiero told Polly. ‘We’ll do it tomorrow night, before you can change your mind.’

‘I didn’t know I’d made up my mind.’

‘Mamma made it up for you,’ Ruggiero said wickedly. ‘She’s good at that.’

‘She’s not the only one,’ Polly said wryly. But inside her she was smiling. She would have the rest of her life to be strong.

CHAPTER TEN

‘ARE we going back to that fish restaurant of yours?’ Polly asked as they drove down the hill on the following evening.

‘No, this is somewhere different. In the old city. You haven’t had time to see any of Naples.’

The phrase ‘the old city’ meant nothing to her, but she soon found out that it was a place of little winding streets with cobblestones. In this part of town there were no pavements, so that traffic and pedestrians fenced with each other in both directions at once.

Polly loved it at first sight. It was dazzling, colourful and vivid, the narrow streets blazing with light even as darkness fell, because the little shops and restaurants stayed open very late.

‘This part of Naples is like a world apart,’ he told her.

‘I like it better than the conventional world,’ she said.

‘So do I. People seem more at ease here. Let’s have some coffee.’

They dived into a tiny coffee bar, where the owner hailed him as a friend and seated them at window table.

‘If I’d known we were coming here I’d have worn something more restrained,’ Polly said. She was wearing the elegant green gown given to her by Hope. ‘I feel overdressed.’

‘Don’t worry-you’ll be fine in the place we’re going,’ he assured her.

‘That’s a relief. I never did master the trick of getting these things right. I was always too dull or too bright for the occasion.’

‘Why must you always criticise yourself?’

‘It comes from having lived a life full of comparisons.’

‘Comparisons with her?’

‘Yes, I just got used to thinking of myself as the plain one in the pack.’ She chuckled suddenly.

‘What?’

‘I was remembering a lad who said he was madly in love with me and he wanted to shower me with flowers. I thought that was so charming-until they turned out to be buttercups he’d picked in the park. Poor fellow. I was very hard on him, but I wanted roses. Someone had given Sapphire roses the day before, and she was actually offended because they were the wrong kind. I thought that was so cool.’

‘The wrong kind?’ he asked, askance.

‘They were tea roses. He was a bit of an academic, and he explained that flowers had their own meanings, and tea roses were a way of saying that he would always remember her.’

‘Tea roses for remembrance?’ he echoed, beginning to laugh. ‘I thought that was red roses?’

‘No, red roses are for passionate love lasting to eternity,’ she said in a reciting voice. ‘Tea roses are for peaceful remembrance.’

‘I’ve never heard that before.’

‘Neither had she, and when he produced a learned tome to prove it I thought she was going to explode. He only lasted one day, but I was so envious. Roses were romantic. Buttercups were prosaic.’

‘I don’t think so,’ he said unexpectedly. ‘How can such rich gold be prosaic?’

‘But they’re so common,’ she objected, surprised and charmed by this hint of a poetic streak. ‘You can pick buttercups anywhere.’

His next answer startled her even more.

‘Is that what makes things beautiful? Rarity? Does something stop being lovely because there are plenty? You’re rather like a buttercup yourself.’

‘You mean commonplace?’

‘I mean made of gold.’

For once she was lost for words. He was looking at her with a question in his eyes.

‘I wish I could see into your thoughts at this minute,’ he said softly.

‘There’s never any secret about my thoughts,’ she said, trying not to be aware of her heart thumping.

‘You know that’s not true,’ he said, still watching her but speaking quietly, like a man trying to lure a wild bird to come to him without frightening it.

‘It’s a pretence,’ he went on when she didn’t reply. ‘You accused me of playing the role of father, saying the right words for the wrong reasons. But you’re doing the same thing-playing the role of sensible nurse, steady and reliable, with no inner life of her own.’

‘Which is how I’m supposed to be-’

‘But now I know better. Don’t forget that. You’ve let me see that inner life and you can’t drive me out again.’

It was true that she couldn’t drive him out, but not in the way he thought.

‘All right, you saw inside me,’ she said at last. ‘So keep my secrets.’

‘Against anyone else,’ he said at once. ‘As long as you don’t keep them against me.’