Now he was becoming used to the situation, and he told himself that his mother’s idea might be a good one, establishing for both of them that they could still be friends, in a civilised manner.

Besides, he missed her damnably.

Celia accepted for Saturday, and the word went out to as many of the family as could make it. Primo and Olympia accepted at once, so did Carlo and his wife, Della, and also Ruggiero, whose marriage to Polly three months earlier had provided Francesco with his excuse for a sudden return. Luke and his wife, Minnie, made a special trip from Rome.

Only Justin was missing-Hope’s eldest son, who lived in England with his wife and three children. But in a phone call he promised to bring his whole family ‘for the wedding.’ Francesco had spent so much time abroad that his love-life had been a closed book to them for too long. Now everyone was curious about his lady.

‘Giulio and Teresa are coming,’ Toni informed Hope, mentioning his elder brother and his wife, who lived just outside Naples.

‘Excellent.’

‘Also Teresa’s sister, Angelica,’ Toni said, in the tone of one making a confession. ‘Cara, I know you don’t like her-’

‘I don’t dislike her. I just wish she’d shut up sometimes and let someone else speak,’ Hope said frankly. ‘And she’s horribly tactless.’

‘I know, but she’s visiting them just now, so she had to be included.’

‘You’ll have to take care of her, Poppa,’ said Carlo, who happened to be there at that moment. ‘Keep her attention occupied.’

‘How?’ Toni demanded plaintively.

‘You must flirt with her,’ Hope declared calmly. ‘She’s quite attractive for her age, so you should have no trouble.’

‘You wouldn’t mind my flirting with her?’ Toni asked his wife faintly.

‘We must all do whatever is necessary, caro.’

She kissed him and departed from the breakfast table, humming, leaving her menfolk aghast.

‘You’ll have to take firm action, Poppa,’ Francesco said, grinning.

‘How?’ his much-tried father repeated.

‘Strike a blow for all men. Really flirt with Aunt Angelica. Make Mamma so jealous that she’ll be careful what she tells you to do in future.’

‘But my heart wouldn’t be in it.’ Toni sighed. ‘And your mother knows that.’

‘Of course, or she’d never have suggested it,’ Carlo said. ‘She knows she’s got you on a string.’

Toni nodded. ‘Always,’ he said. ‘Right from the moment I first set eyes on her.’

On Friday Hope informed Francesco that he was to collect Celia the next day and bring her to the villa.

‘Perhaps she’d rather get here without my help,’ he observed.

‘No, she’s fine about that,’ Hope informed him. ‘She said she’d prefer you to a taxi.’

‘I see that the two of you have decided everything,’ he observed.

‘Of course. No point in waiting for you. Make sure you look your best tomorrow.’

‘Any minute you’ll be telling me to wash behind my ears,’ he said wrathfully.

‘Don’t forget to do that, either,’ Hope instructed him.

He might complain that his mother still treated him like a kid, but the next day he was on the road to Celia’s apartment, elegantly turned out and wondering what kind of reception he would receive. Whatever it was, he decided that his best course was to keep back emotionally and stay safe. Somehow he would endure the evening, although he couldn’t think how.

Celia was sitting by the window as he drew the car up, her head turned slightly in an attitude of listening. By the time he reached the door she was already opening it.

She was beautiful, in a long dress of honey-coloured silk which brought out the soft glow of her skin and the blue of her eyes. Diamonds sparkled in her ears and about her neck. They were tiny. It was Celia’s way never to overdo things. But they announced that she was putting the flags out tonight.

‘You’re lovely,’ he said, instantly forgetting his resolution to be distant.

‘Will I do you credit?’

‘You don’t need to ask that. You know exactly what you look like. Don’t ask me how, but you do know.’

She laughed delightedly. ‘Yes, I do. I chose this colour because I know you like it.’

‘Well, I guess you know my tastes well enough by now to be able to pick the colours in the-Hell!’ He caught himself up, horrified at what he’d nearly said.

Had there ever been another woman like this one? he wondered. Celia laughed and laughed until he thought she would collapse.

‘In the dark!’ she choked. ‘You were going to say in the dark.’

‘All right, I’m sorry,’ he growled. ‘I forgot-’

‘Of course you did. Oh, darling, that’s wonderful. I begin to think you’re human after all.’

He stared at her, feeling all at sea-not for the first time.

‘You’re not upset? I didn’t mean to-’

‘I know. You didn’t mean to make a joke about my blindness but you did-well, you almost did. It’s a start. I’ll teach you yet.’

‘Will I ever understand you?’

‘Probably not. Never mind. Give me a kiss.’

He opened his arms and would have drawn her against him, but she brushed her lips faintly against his and slipped away at once. He followed into her front room, where a dark gold velvet jacket lay over a chair. Beside it sat Jacko, wearing his harness.

‘Ready?’ she asked him, reaching for the jacket.

‘We don’t need to take him, surely?’ Francesco asked, taking the jacket and holding it up to receive her arms. ‘I’ll be with you all the time.’

‘I can’t leave him behind,’ she said firmly. ‘It would be like telling him he’s useless when he needs reassurance. He hasn’t quite settled with me yet. Jacko!’

The dog came to stand obediently in front of her.

‘Andiamo!’ she said.

As soon as he heard the Italian for let’s go! Jacko turned so that she could take hold of the long handle.

‘We’re ready,’ Celia said. ‘If you’ll just open the door and lead the way?’

He did so, escorting them to the car, showing Jacko into the back and Celia into the front.

‘I’d better warn you that there’s going to be a big crowd tonight,’ he said. ‘My family all want to meet you. Including,’ he added in a hollow voice, ‘Aunt Angelica.’

‘Is she the one who puts her foot in it?’

‘Good grief, you mean, I’ve told you about her before?’

‘Not at all,’ Celia reassured him. ‘But every family has one.’

‘Well, you’re right-she’s ours.’

She gave a chuckle. ‘I’ll remember.’

Everyone was waiting when the car pulled up at the villa. They stood on the terrace, watching as Celia climbed the steps, guided by Jacko, but holding Francesco’s arm on the other side. One of the men-nobody was ever quite sure which-gave an appreciative wolf whistle, and Celia beamed in equal appreciation.

Uncle Giulio and Aunt Teresa were introduced. Then came Aunt Angelica, full of words, most of them inappropriate.

‘I’ve heard so much about you-all exaggerated, I’m sure. But there, that can’t be helped, can it?’

‘Can’t it?’ Celia asked.

‘Well, people don’t understand, do they? But I pride myself on realising things that are hidden from the rest of the world.’

‘Let’s start the evening with a glass of wine,’ Hope said quickly, appearing with a tray of glasses. ‘Celia, cara, what would you like to drink?’ She named two excellent wines, one white, one red.

‘Oh, do have the white!’ Angelica exclaimed at once. ‘Then if you should spill it on that lovely dress it won’t stain. These things happen so easily, but I assure you we’ll all understand. You and I must have a nice little talk-’

There was a swift intake of breath from the family, and Francesco cast a horrified glance at Celia. She had pressed her lips tightly together, as though controlling some response or other, but exactly what it was impossible to say.

‘But you promised to talk to me,’ Toni hurried to tell Angelica. ‘I’d counted on having all your attention.’

He put an arm firmly around her waist, swept her off as gallantly as a young man, pressed a glass of wine into her hand, and everyone breathed again.

‘What’s happening now?’ Celia asked Francesco.

‘Poppa’s flirting madly with Aunt Angelica, gazing deep into her eyes until she forgets everything but him, so she won’t drop any clangers-for a while, anyway.’

‘Doesn’t your mother mind him doing that?’

‘Mind? She told him to.’

Celia chuckled. ‘I knew I was going to like your mother.’

‘It’s mutual,’ Hope assured her. ‘What wine would you like?’

‘White,’ Celia said at once. ‘Just in case I have an accident, you know.’

‘Nonsense!’ Hope said robustly. ‘I don’t suppose you can remember the last time you had an accident.’

‘I do believe you’re right,’ Celia replied impishly, and everyone relaxed.

From the first moment she was a great success. Her beauty, her merry laugh, her complete ease with who and what she was won everyone over. Standing back a little, Francesco knew a glow of pride in her accomplishments and her courage. They were regarding him with envy, he realised: the man who had won the prize.

If only they knew how far away from the prize he really was!

At his mother’s command he had racked his brain to recall Celia’s favourite dishes, and now they were served up with a flourish that made it clear she was the guest of honour. She obviously understood and enjoyed this, for she tried everything set before her and was unstinting in her praise.

They admired her for her proficiency in Italian, and competed to teach her words from the Neapolitan dialect.

‘All the best words come from Napoli,’ Primo told her. ‘Take sfizio!’ Only Naples could have produced that word.’

‘But I thought that was Italian,’ Celia objected. ‘It’s one of my favourite words.’