‘The one I found in the storeroom?’
He tilted his head towards the kitchen table. The hat was still squashed out of shape and now the silk flowers had wilted and some of the colours had run. It looked sorrier than ever.
‘Oh dear.’
‘I thought if I steamed it like you were planning to do, you’d move it somewhere I wouldn’t have to look at it.’
Stella put her hand to her mouth. ‘I’m so sorry. I knew Violetta made it, but it was so pretty I just didn’t think. To be honest, I hadn’t given a moment’s thought to what I’d do with it. I suppose I should pass it on to Fernanda.’
‘You can’t give it to her in that state.’
He looked so serious she wanted to hug him.
‘I’ll try to revive it in the morning and if it’s no better, we’ll bin it. It’s only a hat.’
‘Wait,’ Domenico said quietly. ‘Did you close the front door? I thought I heard a noise in the hall.’
Stella gasped. ‘I almost forgot! We’ve… umm… I’ve got a visitor.’
She opened the kitchen door. The hallway was empty. Amy’s suitcase had gone.
41
Fernanda’s eyes were closing. It was disrespectful to fall asleep whilst studying the words of the Lord; she set aside her bible. She’d neglected the Holy Book these last few days, led astray by her young lodger. Perhaps that should have been a sign that Amy had a wicked streak. But Fernanda still couldn’t quite believe it. Amy had seemed so sweet and lovely. And pretty. Fernanda knew it was illogical but somehow she’d always associated evil with ugliness, as if bad deeds showed up on a person’s face. She of all people should have known how beauty was only skin deep.
Holding tightly to the banister, she pulled herself up the stairs. Her jewellery box stood proudly in the centre of her dressing table, resting on an embroidered cloth. She lifted the inlaid wooden lid and checked through her meagre collection once more. Her grandmother’s amethyst pendant, her mother’s wedding ring, the gold bangle Fernanda’s husband had bought on their only holiday abroad were all there. Why would Amy ignore these treasures yet steal a worthless old lira coin strung on a leather thong?
The stolen necklace had only sentimental value but it was as precious to Fernanda as baby Gino’s first pair of shoes. She’d been left with so few of her sister’s things, after the family that took her in sold most of Violetta’s possessions to cover the extra mouth they had to feed.
She unpinned her brooch from her dress and unwound the silky scarf that only half disguised her wrinkled neck, sat on the edge of the bed and pulled off her dark stockings. Her shoulder seared with pain as she eased her pintucked blouse over her head. Wincing, she pushed both arms into her long white nightgown and pottered to the bathroom, making preparations for the night, knowing she would get no more than a few hours’ sleep.
Teeth brushed, thick, rose-scented cream rubbed into her face, she sat on the small, padded stool, staring at her face in the dressing table mirror. Amy’s betrayal had knocked her sideways. But it wasn’t almost losing Violetta’s necklace that bothered her half as much as Leo’s crestfallen face. Her beloved grandson was more hurt by this than he would ever admit.
She suspected Leo would pretend to be okay, to claim Amy was just an inconsequential holiday fling. It would be easy for Fernanda to quote meaningless platitudes and remind him what a very short time he’d known the girl. But she’d seen the look on Leo’s face when Amy walked out the door. It was a look she’d seen before. The look on Gino’s face when Stella left the village.
First, her darling son Gino, now Leo. Fernanda’s love for her sister had led, she realised now, to the pain of those she loved most. Violetta had betrayed the village, causing the death of Arturo and Domenico’s papà. And she, Fernanda, in a moment of madness, had dragged Stella by the arm to confess her dalliance with Gino, sending Arturo into the fury that caused his heart attack. She’d killed Stella’s papà just as surely as if she’d fired a gun from his doorstep. After that, Stella’s departure and Gino’s heartbreak had been inevitable. And now, Violetta’s necklace had led to Amy’s abrupt departure.
Fernanda wound her sister’s string of cultured pearls around her fingers. It had been a present to Violetta from her German boyfriend, Franz. Perhaps tonight was a sign that Fernanda should sell it and give the money to the poor. She should have done so long ago. These last eighty years, Fernanda had treasured her sister’s memory but now it was as tainted as the pearls from her Nazi lover. Fernanda had to stop sugarcoating the past. Tomorrow she’d make a start.
‘I’m sorry, Violetta, I love you but now this must stop,’ Fernanda murmured. She buried her face in her pillow.
* * *
Stella stood in the empty hallway. She couldn’t believe Amy had gone. The last thing Stella felt like doing was walking the streets searching for her but it had to be done. The poor girl was clearly not thinking straight, Stella couldn’t let her wander off on her own.
She fished her housekeys back out of the dish on the console table, glancing in the mirror hanging over it. Her face looked tired, her complexion dull. The strain of Domenico’s revelations about Gino’s family’s role in her nonno’s death had etched new lines into her forehead. She looked all of her soon-to-be sixty years.
Slipping the keys into her pocket, she turned to go back into the kitchen to let Domenico know she was popping out for a short while. Above her head, a stair tread creaked. Stella looked up. Amy was coming downstairs, her hand small and pale against the sturdy wooden banister. Stella let out a gasp of relief.
‘Sorry,’ Amy said. ‘I tried to be as quiet as possible. I didn’t want to wake your uncle if he’s up there sleeping but I desperately needed the bathroom. I left Fernanda’s in such a hurry…’
Stella let her keys drop back into the bowl with a clatter. ‘That’s no problem. Domenico’s in the kitchen, the kettle is on. I can’t tell you how relieved I am, Amy; I thought you’d gone.’
‘Gone? But where would I go?’
‘That’s exactly what was worrying me. But where’s your case?’
‘I just moved it out of the way in there.’ Amy indicated the sitting room door. ‘The hallway’s so narrow I didn’t think you’d want to keep squeezing past it.’
