Dianne snorts.
Rose ignores this.
‘There was my lovely Grazia,’ Bernard says. ‘She came to the business long after Maria died.’
‘I was his executive assistant,’ says Grazia, now holding an unlit cigarette in her hand. She’s rolling it between her fingers as if waiting eagerly for the moment she’ll be able to light it.
‘I speak three languages,’ says Grazia, grimly giving her CV. ‘I have a master’s in business from Charles University in Prague – one of the oldest universities in Europe. I paid my bills my whole life and yet Stephen and Viola think I am a gold digger.’
Her eyes flash fire.
Rose wonders how she ever thought Grazia’s face was unemotional.
‘They never wanted me,’ says Grazia sadly. ‘We are married a long time and still I am an outsider.’
Grazia snaps her mouth shut as if she’s already said too much.
She’s still rolling the cigarette around in her fingers now as if she can’t wait to smoke it.
‘So, is that why you’re here, Bernard?’ Rose asks. ‘You want to fix things between Grazia and your children?’
Under his tan, Bernard looks old and slightly pale.
He doesn’t like Grazia talking about the less-happy facts of their life.
‘Once I relished a battle. It always was a battle in the early days in business and I loved it. But I’m getting older.’
Grazia makes a movement as if she’s going to touch her husband in consolation but reconsiders it. Her hand returns to her handbag.
‘I have grandchildren I rarely have in my home because Stephen doesn’t get on with Grazia, so that means going to visit them alone.’
‘Your home, Bernard?’ says Rose. ‘Not “our” home?’
‘You understand!’ says Grazia fiercely. ‘It is always his home, his everything. His children. I am just a second wife, I do not count.’
‘That bad?’ Rose asks.
‘Yes, that bad,’ says Grazia. ‘Worse, Bernard says he loves me but he never tries to get his children to accept me. He cannot issue ultimatums to them. I must suffer because they are in charge of his life.’
Suddenly Dianne interrupts.
‘Kids don’t always understand. Even when they’re grown up. They think they know more than you, comprehend more than you and yet they knownothing.’
The group turns as one to look at Dianne.
‘Children never understand their parents’ lives. No matter how bloody old they are.’
Rose does not want to jeopardise Dianne’s involvement.
‘Why don’t you think they understand?’ she asks mildly.
Dianne grins and it’s not a polite grin – more of a grimace.
‘They like to believe the fairy tale about life but it’s the Disney one they think is real. When it’s really the Brothers Grimm.’
‘They wrote some fascinating fairy tales,’ jumps in Keera. ‘I had to read a couple of them for a film script once. Didn’t get the part but it was interesting, you know, very dark stuff.’
She shivers deliciously.
