“Yes, very much,” answers Stefano. “And we like living in Montemagno. It is not too busy.”
“What’s the population?” Theo asks, stretching out his legs.
“Four hundred people and twenty-one swimming pools!” pipes Stefano.
We laugh.
“Shame there aren’t twenty-two,” mutters Callum.
Luisa doesn’t hear him—or at least pretends not to. “Do you like it here?” she asks the kids.
“Yeah!” bursts out Archie. “We’ve got two lizards! They live in the larder.”
“It’s alright,” mumbles Mabel. “But I miss my friends.”
“Yeah,” concedes Callum. “But it’s really hot and there’s dust everywhere. It’s ruined my creps.”
“That means trainers,” I tell Luisa. I decide to deflect the attention away from the kids. “By the way, how come you speak such fab English?”
A smile lifts her fine features. “Thank you. I’ve been to England several times, to London and Brighton, Hastings and Cambridge.”
Callum looks up. “What about Manchester?”
“No,” says Luisa. “I’ve never been to Manchester.”
“But Manchester is very famous,” chips in Stefano. “Everyone knows Manchester United!”
“I support City,” Callum states. “I’m missing the first match of the season.”
Theo shoots him a glare. “You can’t have everything, Cal.”
Luisa gestures with her arms to the scene around her. “And how lucky you are to live in this beautiful house for the summer. With your two dads!”
“Adam’s not our dad!” Mabel barks at her, clearly horrified by the suggestion.
Luisa’s face falls. “Sorry,step-dad.”
“He’s not my stepdad!” Mabel fires back. “He’s our dad’sboyfriend.”
A flush of humiliation works its way up my body.
I tell myself not to be so sensitive. I’m pretty sure I said worse about my stepmum. And she actuallywasmy stepmum.
I fix my features into something approaching a smile. “I think what Mabel means is Theo and I haven’t been together that long.”
“Their mother and I separated a while ago but only recently got divorced,” clarifies Theo. “It’ll take some time to adjust.”
“Now, who wants a top-up?” I ask, perkily.
Stefano and Luisa hold out their glasses and I fill them with Prosecco, some of it frothing over and onto the patio. Theo goes inside to get himself another beer.
“You know, you look like your uncle,” Luisa says, examiningmy face. “Of course, by the time we knew him, his hair was gray, not brown. But he had the same dimples.”
“How well did you know him?” Theo asks, sitting back down.
I’ve asked them this on our previous meetings so already know the answer.
“Not very well,” says Luisa, pausing to sip her drink. “He kept himself to himself.”
