‘Oh, that’s brilliant! Congratulations!’
‘Thanks,’ he said, taking her bags from her and startingto unpack them on the counter. ‘I thought we could go out to celebrate – my treat!’
‘Oh, you shouldn’t spend your money on me.’
He turned to her. ‘Is that your way of saying you don’t want to be seen in public with me?’
‘No, but… maybe it’s my way of saying I don’t want to waste time out in a restaurant when we could be in bed.’
‘What have I created? You’re insatiable.’ He shook his head ruefully. ‘Surely you could afford one night off.’
Not when it might be our last, she thought sadly. ‘We could get a posh takeaway – compromise.’
‘Have it your way,’ Luca said, going back to unpacking the groceries. ‘But I’m paying.’
‘Okay. So how much did this painting sell for?’
‘Three grand. So I’ll get fifteen hundred.’
‘You only get half? That’s terrible.’
‘That’s the way it is.’
‘It must be so hard to make a living at this.’ No wonder he lived in a shithole and couldn’t afford to pay his electricity bills.
‘It is – almost impossible. But I’m having a solo show there in September, so who knows? Hopefully I’ll sell a lot more then.’
When they had finished putting everything away, they moved to the sitting room.
‘Wine?’ Luca asked, picking up a bottle of red.
‘Yes, please.’ Claire sat on the sofa as he poured two glasses, trying to get up the nerve to tell him about Mark. She had meant to say it first thing when she arrived, but he’d had his news about the sale, so it hadn’t seemed the right time – and then the moment had passed.
‘How was lunch yesterday?’ she asked, as Luca handed her a glass and sat beside her.
‘It was fine. I behaved myself. I went on the dry to keepJacqueline happy. We haven’t turned into the Waltons, but there were no fights.’
‘Have you ever tried to trace your real parents?’ she asked suddenly. A shadow passed across Luca’s face. ‘Sorry, none of my business.’
‘No, it’s okay. Jacqueline tried to trace them. But they didn’t keep very good records in those places. I was about nine months old when I was put in the first orphanage, but I still have no idea how I got there.’
‘What about Ali?’
‘They already knew who her parents were. They’d got their permission to adopt her.’
‘But she didn’t find out anything about yours?’
‘No. She drew a complete blank. And do you know what I felt?’ he said, his lip curled in disgust. ‘I wasrelieved. I didn’t want her to find them. I was terrified they’d send me away to live in a hut on the side of some mountain in Romania. I knew she didn’t want me, but I didn’t want her to find my real mother because I didn’t want to bepoor.’ He looked up at her and she was appalled to see his eyes were shining with tears. She wished she’d never brought the subject up.
‘You know most of the kids in those so-called orphanages weren’t orphans at all?’ he asked.
Claire nodded.
‘I wanted to be. I wanted her to find out that my parents were dead, so there’d be no chance of her ever sending me back.’ He laughed harshly. ‘I told you I’m not a very nice person.’
‘Jesus, Luca, you were only achild.’
It broke her heart to think of Luca living in terror of having what little hard-won stability he’d finally got in his life snatched away. And instead of making him feel safe, Jacqueline had fuelled his insecurity with her precious ‘honesty’ about her feelings. It was a bloody good thing she hadn’t known about this on Saturday, Claire thought furiously – she’d have had a hard time restraining herself from punching the woman. Did Jacqueline have any idea of the torture she’d put Luca through?
