Mary’s smile lifted the lines around her eyes. ‘That’s what they’re there for.’ She hesitated delicately. ‘One thing we must consider without delay is whether you’re prepared to run the pensione until everything’s finalised. I believe you have authority over the business bank account and of course you’ll draw your usual salary. If you prefer not to continue, Three Sisters could be closed and sold as is—’
Jade recoiled. ‘Of course I’ll continue with things as they are.’ Right now, it felt like the only constant in her life.
Mary seemed to take no offence at the edge to Jade’s voice and in another minute, they’d said goodbye and Jade found herself outside on the street. The summer breeze that tried to tease the envelopes from her hands felt like a tornado that had ripped her life from its foundations. It seemed surreal that the world was as she’d left it before she’d entered Mary’s office. The wroughtiron at the window above the church door caught the sun; a van waited outside the Poste Italiane building. Here, outside the twelfth-century fortress walls surrounding the historic city, the steep, cobbled road was filled with grumbling traffic, its pavements thronged with people going about their daily lives, taking advantage of the shade of balconies or awnings where they could.
Jade trudged back to the pensione past where the enormous market stood several times a week, so numb with disbelief that she was scarcely aware of the sun on her bare arms as she entered the historic sector at the square tower of Torre Gattoni. She even passed the pink-painted frontage of a favouritegastronomiawithout stopping to enjoy the enticing display of wine bottles and oil, and brightly packed pasta, or the designer dress shop next door. She didn’t gaze upward to admire shutters freshly painted muted lilac or a particularly beautiful, scalloped balcony encompassing the corner of a building. She didn’t admire the sun’s rays slanting on the mountains visible behind the tall, coloured buildings that seemed to lean in over the narrow streets. Instead, she plodded dumbly over the cobbles, where few vehicles were allowed.
Gran had kept her promise that Joey wouldn’t inherit half of Pensione Three Sisters. But...
But never had Jade suspected that Mairead might know of more of Joey’s children. How could her beloved grandmother have kept a secret of such epic proportions? And acknowledge her other granddaughters to ensure the pensione must be divided three ways?
Being fair can be difficult... Mairead’s words echoed down the years, so easy for Jade to have misinterpreted.
Finally, she arrived outside Pensione Three Sisters. Diagonally opposite, the gardens of Piazza Cavour were bright with beds of cerise flowers among paler pink oleander bushes. Shady benchesbeneath trees were notably more popular than those baking in the sun. Beyond the piazza and the lakeside road glittered Lake Como, a couple of small boats navigating around an incoming, black-hulled ferry, its white decks brimming with tourists. Jade looked up at the building that had been her home since the age of fourteen. The dusky pink of the pensione walls toned with the cream-coloured corner stones and window shutters. Balconies on upper floors provided glorious views up this, the west leg of the lake. Inside, each of the sixteen guest-rooms was furnished traditionally, with ornate light fittings, tiled floors and wooden furniture that Gran and she had chosen with such care. Pensione Three Sisters had been their new start without Rocco, and Jade had scraped wallpaper alongside Mairead or helped to carry out threadbare rugs.
She took a deep breath of the heated, mid-afternoon air, not even glancing towards the tables and parasols outside Anton’s Bistro to wave if owners Mia or Hector were outside with their customers. Instead, she worked the noisy latch on the black wrought-iron gate and stepped into what Gran had called ‘the bit at the back’, the access area to the back doors of the apartment and the commercial kitchen with room for a couple of garden chairs. This route allowed Jade to reach the apartment without crossing Reception, thereby avoiding Yara, the receptionist who’d moved from nearby Switzerland less than a year ago. Yara dealt with guests with a charming smile and a whisk of her fair plaits. Her first language was Italian, but her English was good, as was her German. Right now, Jade didn’t feel like fielding her chatter in any language.
Vittoria and her cousin, Carlotta, should have completed their shifts at 2 p.m., so Jade was surprised to find Vittoria at the kitchen table, coffee cup in one hand, phone in the other. Five years older than Jade, Vittoria was what Gran had termed ‘a strapping lassie’, brisk and sturdy, her hair streaked like ahazelnut. Her dark eyes flew to Jade’s face and a frown creased her brow. In Italian, she said, ‘Carlotta’s gone, but I wanted to wait for you. You look...’
‘Shocked?’ Jade tossed the envelopes onto the white marble counter, then crossed to the small coffee machine and made herself acaffè lungo, filling the air with its roasty, nutty aroma. She flumped into a chair. As Vittoria was Jade’s best friend as well as a long-serving employee, there was no point trying to keep secrets. Baldly, she announced, ‘Gran knew Joey had two more daughters to different women. Three Sisters will belong equally to the three of us.’
Coffee cup poised halfway to her parted lips, Vittoria’s eyebrows flew into her hair.
Jade shrugged, as if Vittoria had uttered a protest. ‘It’s true. She left me a letter saying how sorry she was not to have told me, but Joey said she’d never hear from him again if she did.’
Uncertainly, Vittoria murmured, ‘I suppose, when you have so little contact with your only child, you’re terrified of risking what you have. She held him close in her heart, however weird he is and however long ago he left.’
Jade dropped her gaze to the pitted wooden table where she’d eaten countless meals. Coloured, written and drawn. Sighed over homework until Gran would settle beside her, giving her a squeeze and declaring, ‘Nothing’s that bad, m’darling. We’ll sort it out together.’ Why on earth had Joey left such a warm, loving person behind? ‘Then I’m glad she had his occasional emails for what comfort they gave her.’ She pulled the clip from her hair and shook it out, massaging her temples against a headache. ‘She wants me to make a family with my half-sisters, so I won’t be all alone.Salute.’ She clinked her cup against Vittoria’s as if they were drinking Franciacorta, Lombardy’s version of champagne. The coffee was too hot and its sweet bitterness burnt her already aching throat. Her voice emerged huskily.‘This place isn’t only where I work. It’s my home. We came here after we lost Nonno. I’ve never worked anywhere else, content with my salary and “wee perks” as Gran called bonuses. Surely Joey would have been none the wiser if she’d told me about the others and warned me what was going to happen?’
Vittoria’s chocolate-coloured eyes shone with sympathy. ‘Maybe she didn’t want to tempt you.’
As if scrunching up her forehead could force understanding into her brain, Jade frowned hard. ‘Tempt me to what?’
Vittoria shrugged. ‘Do you know your sisters’ names?’
‘I do now. Erin Ferguson and Rosalie Beretta.’ She ignored a thump of her heart at the word ‘sisters’.
Vittoria arched an eyebrow. ‘Have you googled them?’
Unguardedly, Jade said, ‘Not yet.’
Smile softening, Vittoria repeated her reply. ‘Not yet.’ She laid a sympathetic hand on Jade’s. ‘Suggesting you willsoon. Ofcourseyou will. It’s human nature, Jade. Mairead knew you’d look on Instagram and Facebook, and everything else. Then you wouldn’t be able to resist sending friend requests. You’d maybe comment on one of their posts. You’d see photos and they might have your eyes or hair, and you’d feel the connection. You’re such a sweetie... I’m not convinced you’d resist getting in touch.’
Jade’s face burned, aware that Vittoria was right. And that somehow Joey might have found out and cut contact, breaking Gran’s heart. Crossly, she snorted. ‘Apparently, I get my hair from Geneva, not Joey, so we can’t share that.’ A rich chestnut, her hair glinted with red highlights any hair salon would have been proud to produce.
From somewhere in the building came the sound of a closing door and a muffled voice. All the guestrooms were occupied today: couples, a family and three single-occupancy guests. Tomorrow, Jade would put out breakfast: a buffet of bread rolls,croissants, sfogliatelle and canoli pastries, conserves, cheeses, yoghurts, fruit and cereal, with a flowing supply of coffee, juice and tea, all supplemented by a modest hot-food menu.
The distant noises from guests seemed to turn Vittoria’s mind to pensione matters too. ‘On the day of the funeral, Carlotta will bring Ludovica to do the rooms. I will be with you.’ Ludovica was Carlotta’s partner, who worked in her mother’s silk shop nearby.
Jade’s eyes filled again. ‘Thanks. I’ll be glad to have you with me.’ She gave a strangled gulp. ‘Oh, Vittoria! What if I have to leave the pensione?’
With a scrape of the chair over the kitchen flagstones, Vittoria rounded the table and crouched beside her for a fierce hug, enveloping Jade in warmth and loving familiarity. ‘How can that happen?’
‘If they both want to sell, I’ll be outvoted.’ Jade laid her head on Vittoria’s soft shoulder. ‘Even if they want to continue under shared ownership, my situation will change. Profits will have to be split three ways and I might have to pay rent for living in the apartment.’ An idea swam to the top of her mind. ‘Unless I can buy them out.’
Vittoria stroked her hair. ‘I suppose any of those things are possibilities.’ She went on smoothing Jade’s hair – as much as such springy curls would let themselves be smoothed. ‘You can discuss it with them. They’re your sisters.’
Though she wanted to clap her hands over her ears and not hear Vittoria’s words, Jade just sighed. ‘They’re Gran’s granddaughters and Joey’s kids. But I don’t feel they’re anything to me. Except a threat.’
