Dante's Unexpected Legacy

Rose hurried upstairs to her room and took a depressed look in the mirror as she hung up her clothes. Far from benefiting from her little holiday, she looked as weary and wan as she felt.

Lunch was a lively affair with much input from Bea about her activities in her mother’s absence. ‘I went to school all day yesterday, then to the park with Gramma and Tom.’

‘I bet they enjoyed that!’ said Rose, grinning.

‘We did,’ agreed Grace, and relieved her granddaughter of her plate. ‘What a star—you ate the vegetables, too. You liked that, darling?’

‘Yummy!’ said Bea, and gave Rose a smile exactly like her father’s. ‘Cake now?’

Rose waited expectantly, eyebrows raised.

‘Please!’ Bea beamed in triumph.

‘Good girl.’

After cakes had been devoured, Rose said casually, ‘I’d better find some things I bought in Florence.’

‘Where’s that?’ demanded Bea.

‘It’s a town near where Auntie Charlotte lives in Italy. I had to fly there on a plane. You can help me carry the parcels.’

Later that evening, after a rapturous Bea had tried on her new jeans and T-shirts, and the exquisite little dress that Rose hadn’t been able to resist, the child was finally tucked up in bed with her new cuddly Pinocchio before Rose could finally relax over supper with her mother and Tom and give details of her trip. She told Charlotte’s tale with care, not sure how much she was supposed to divulge to Tom.

‘Good God!’ He eyed Rose in disbelief as she finished. ‘Charlotte finally got you there, only to take off somewhere else?’

Grace put a hand on his arm. ‘No harm done, love. Rose had her first real break since Bea was born, and hopefully she was able to enjoy it, knowing that her baby girl was safe with us.’

He frowned. ‘But the fact remains that Charlotte stranded Rose alone in a strange country while she went swanning off to New York with Fabio. How did you manage, pet?’

Rose braced herself. ‘Charlotte asked Dante Fortinari to deliver a letter to the hotel to brief me. You remember him from the wedding, Tom?’

‘Of course I do. Charming fellow—got married shortly after Charlotte.’

‘But his wife left him pretty quickly, stupid woman,’ said Grace, eyeing her daughter. ‘You got on with him very well at the wedding, I seem to remember.’

Rose nodded. ‘He was great fun.’

Tom shook his head in disapproval. ‘I shall have words with my daughter next time she rings. Now, tell me why she was so determined to get you to Florence. Lord knows she’s asked you often enough before, so what made this occasion so different?’

‘Tom,’ said Grace gently, ‘perhaps Rose thinks Charlotte should tell you that.’

Rose sighed. ‘I do, but on the other hand, Tom, if it’s going to worry you it’s pointless to keep you in the dark.’ She recounted Charlotte’s suspicions about Fabio, followed by her remorse afterwards when she discovered the truth. ‘Fabio insisted I should stay at the hotel anyway, all expenses paid.’

Grace shook her head in wonder. ‘How on earth could Charlotte suspect Fabio of straying? The man adores her!’

‘And spoils her far more than I ever did,’ said Tom and raised an eyebrow at Rose. ‘So where does Fortinari come into this?’

‘He volunteered to show me round Florence.’ Rose smiled brightly. ‘Which was kind. I would have been a bit lost on my own.’

‘I should damn well think you would.’ Tom got up to hold out his hand to Grace. ‘Come on, love, we must let this girl get to bed. She looks done in.’

‘I could stay, if you like, Rose, and get up with Bea if she’s wakeful tonight?’ her mother offered.

‘Absolutely not,’ said Rose, laughing. ‘You’ve done more than enough, both of you. Though I’m afraid I’ll need you tomorrow afternoon for a couple of hours, Mum, if you can? A client got in touch while I was away so I’m driving to see her.’

‘Of course.’ Grace kissed her daughter good-night, and thanked her again for the presents. ‘You shouldn’t have been so extravagant.’

Rose smiled. ‘Dante got a far better price for them than I would have done, and in any case it was Fabio’s money.’

‘Then we’ll both enjoy our booty free of guilt,’ said Tom, eyes twinkling.

* * *

Later Rose checked on her sleeping child, longing to kiss the rosy cheek but too tired to risk waking her up. Yawning, she went next door to her own room, glad to crawl into bed. It had been an odd sort of holiday. The stay in Florence had been too short, the air travel too tiring and her taste of the dolce vita with Dante too unsettling. It would take effort to knuckle down to routine again. Not that she had a choice. And though most people, like Dante, thought her job boring, her travels to meet with clients made it far less so than being confined to an office all day. As she reached to turn out the light her phone rang.

‘Rose?’ said a husky, unmistakable voice.

She sat bolt upright. ‘Dante!’

‘Did all go well on your journey?’

‘It did, and now I’m back where I belong.’

‘I do not agree with that,’ he said, surprising her. ‘In Firenze you belonged there. I shall be in London soon and will drive to see you.’

Rose was about to veto the idea when Dante went on without pausing.

‘Now I know you are safe I will let you sleep. Buonanotte, Rose.’

‘Good night. Thanks for ringing,’ she said politely.

His chuckle sent tremors down her spine. ‘You knew that I would. Ciao.’

Rose switched off the light and slid down in the bed, but thanks to Dante’s call she was no longer tired. The mere sound of his voice had conjured up not only his goodbye kiss but all her doubts and fears about keeping his daughter secret from him. But he had no legal right to claim Bea as his daughter, she reassured herself with a resurgence of the old resentment. His sole contribution to her existence was a fleeting episode of sexual pleasure before he’d returned to the fiancée he’d neglected to mention.

* * *

When Bea had been dropped off at nursery school the next morning Rose got down to work right away to make up for lost time. Usually she did some household chores before settling at her desk, but Grace had left the house in remarkably immaculate condition for someone in charge of a lively child. Rose sighed. In the beginning, after Bea was born, she had tried hard to transform herself from slapdash student into perfect mother, housekeeper and eventual wage earner. She’d learned the hard way to get her priorities right. As long as Bea was happy, clean and well fed Rose took her mother’s advice and kept her brief spells of spare time for taking the baby for walks, or resting while Bea napped. The chores could wait until Rose had time and energy to spare for them. Or, said Grace, she could accept money to pay for a little help in the house.

Rose switched on her computer, smiling at the memory of her indignation at the suggestion. She’d been so determined to be the most efficient single parent it was possible to be. And if she was sometimes desperate for a good night’s sleep, or to be out clubbing or shopping with girlfriends again, or even just taking a walk without pushing a buggy, she never admitted it to a soul. She sighed irritably and settled down to work in the brief window of time before she collected her daughter.

Bea’s face lit up when she saw her mother waiting for her. ‘Mummy! You came today.’

‘Of course I did.’ Rose took her leave of the young teacher and held Bea’s hand. ‘I told you I would.’

‘You didn’t come yesterday.’

‘I was away, so I asked Gramma and Tom to fetch you.’