Francesca must have sensed the hesitation. “Look, I won’t stay long, but there are a few things I need to say.”
Catherine sighed and unlocked the door, stepping in ahead of Francesca and hoping to contain her in the small hallway. Francesca had haunted her thoughts for long enough; she didn’t want her haunting her home as well. Except now, standing in the boxy space, they were awkwardly close, and Francesca’s heady perfume was overtaking Catherine’s senses.
“You look nice… I mean, at least better than you did the last time I saw you.”
Francesca chuckled. “That was a low bar, but yes, thank you. I feel much better now. Things are looking up.”
Catherine unclenched and accepted she’d have to invite the woman further into her home.Perhaps Penny knows a priest I could hire for an exorcism afterwards.
“Er, it’s just through here. You can help me pick out the most impressive bottle of wine from my collection.” Catherine’s eyes flicked to the ceiling.
She led the way to the kitchen, internally slapping herself for saying too much already,because give that woman an inch…
“Ooh, so you’re trying to impress this neighbour of yours.”
“Yes, I mean, no. She cooked dinner, so it’s only right I?—”
“Well, you’ve always been good at sharing with your neighbours.” Francesca winked.
Catherine swallowed, grateful for the space between them now that they stood in the kitchen. Francesca glanced around, drinking it all in. In the soft glow from the under-pelmet lighting, Catherine watched Francesca slowly nodding her head as she leaned back against the marble countertop.
“You’ve done well for yourself, Trusty.”
“Thingsaren’t the measure of me, Francesca.”
“Don’t be so touchy. I’m saying I’m impressed, is all.”
Despite herself, the words lifted something inside Catherine. It wasn’t that she needed Francesca’s approval.No. But this was the equivalent of Francesca acknowledging that she’d underestimated her. Recognition that they could have had a good life together if they’d both worked hard. But Francesca had always trodden the path of least resistance, and that path had led her right to Jeremy’s trust fund. She’d locked herself away in a gilded cage of her own making.
Catherine pulled out her fully stocked wine drawer. Francesca’s eyes flittered across the labels, but she passed no comment.
“Look, I won’t keep you from your…neighbourfor too long. I actually came to say goodbye.”
“Oh?”
“We leave for Tuscany on Tuesday.”
“Wow, so soon? I know Jeremy has been liningeverything up with the lawyers, but I thought it might take weeks yet, months even?”
Francesca waved a hand. “I haven’t been involved in any of that, but there isn’t anything Jeremy can’t resolve over the telephone, and he can always pop back if necessary. The villa is ready now, so why wait?”
Something like a faint sting of sadness registered in Catherine’s gut. Her life had been interwoven with the Daltons for so long, and now those ties were being severed as easily as plucking a grape from a vine.
“How do you feel about it all?”
Francesca inhaled a slow breath. “Good,” she nodded. “Really good.”
“Well, I’m happy for you. For both of you, I mean.” She didn’t know what else to say. Looking down at her mules, she was jolted by the sudden memory of her pink bunny slippers — Francesca never did return them.
“I wanted to apologise.” Francesca’s words were so low, for a second Catherine thought she’d imagined them. Her gaze met Francesca’s dark eyes. “I also came to say thank you.”
“For what?”
“For coming to see me when I wasn’t… well.”
“It was nothing.”
“It was everything.” Francesca fixed her with a withering glare. “Believe it or not, seeing you was what snapped me out of it.”
