The Italian's Baby

‘I’ve never heard of it working that way round.’

‘But it might,’ he persisted.

‘Then you’d have to find her, and it would be like looking for a needle in a haystack.’

‘Not if you knew who she was.’

Understanding dawned.

‘You’ve already made your mind up, haven’t you? Luca, you don’t believe this because it’s true, you believe it because you want to. It’s rather comforting to know that you can be as irrational as the rest of us.’ She regarded him curiously. ‘She must have been very special.’

‘Yes,’ he said heavily. ‘She was special.’

He was a man of action. A few phone calls and a representative of the best private-enquiry firm that money could buy was in his office next morning.

‘Rebecca Solway,’ he said, speaking curtly to hide the fact that his stomach was churning. ‘Her father was Frank Solway, owner of the Belleto estate in Tuscany.

‘Find her. I don’t care what it costs, but find her.’

It was a successful evening. Philip Steyne, chairman of the bank, treated Rebecca with honour, and was clearly as impressed as Danvers had hoped he would be. When Rebecca left them for a moment Steyne said,

‘Congratulations, Jordan. She’ll do the bank credit. When can we expect the announcement?’

‘Any day, I hope. Nothing’s been said precisely, but of course she understands where we’re heading.’

‘Well, in good banking it pays to be precise,’ observed Steyne with a grin. ‘Don’t take too long.’

When Rebecca returned he said, ‘Rebecca, let me have the benefit of your expertise. You’re a quarter Italian, right?’

‘Yes, my father’s mother came from Tuscany.’

‘And you speak the language?’

She gave him her cleverest smile, a little bit teasing, but not too much. This was Danvers’ boss.

‘Which language do you mean? There’s la madre lingua, the official language that they use on radio and television, and in government. But there are also the regional dialects, which are languages in themselves. I speak la madre lingua, and Tuscan.’

‘I’m impressed. Actually Tuscan might be handy. This firm has its head office in Rome, but I believe it started in Tuscany, and it’s all over the world now.’

‘Firm?’

‘Raditore Inc. Property, finance, finger in every pie. Suddenly it’s buying a huge block of shares in the Allingham, and the bank’s interested in closer contact. I propose a dinner party at my house—you, Danvers, their top brass. Let’s see what there is to be gained from them.’

Driving her home, Danvers was lyrical in his praise.

‘You really impressed the old man tonight, darling.’

‘Good. I’m glad I was a help to you.’

She answered mechanically and he shot her a quick sideways look, thinking that this was the second time she’d been in a funny mood and he hoped it wasn’t going to become a habit.

Again she didn’t invite him into her suite, which he found annoying. He would have found it convenient to discuss the forthcoming dinner party. Instead Rebecca bid him an implacable goodnight and shut her door.

When he was out of sight she closed her eyes in relief, then stripped off hurriedly and got under the shower, wanting to wash the evening away. She was on edge tonight, just as she had been the night before. The mention of Tuscany had unsettled her, and the ghost had walked again.

CHAPTER THREE

AS SOON as Becky was certain, she hurried to tell Luca the news. He was thrilled.

‘A baby? Our own little bambino! Half you, half me.’

‘Your very own son and heir,’ she said, snuggling blissfully in his arms.

How he laughed.

‘I’m just a common labourer. Labourers don’t have heirs. Besides, I want a girl—just like you. I want another Becky.’

Her pregnancy brought out the best in him, and she discovered again that he was a marvellous man, loving, tender, considerate as few men knew how to be. Later, when joy was replaced by anguish, it was his tenderness that Rebecca remembered most wistfully. How gently he took care of her, how worried he always was about her health. Nothing was ever too much trouble for him to do for her.

Her father was away a lot that summer, visiting his various interests, and there was little chance to tell him. When he did return it was only for a few days, filled with phone calls. Becky didn’t want to break the news until she was sure of having all his attention, so she waited until she knew he would be home for at least two weeks. By that time she was three months gone.

‘And you will tell him this time?’ Luca asked.

‘Of course. I only want everything to be right when I do.’

‘I want to be with you. I won’t have you face his anger alone.’

‘What anger? Dad will be thrilled,’ she predicted blithely. ‘He loves babies.’

It was true. Like many bullies Frank Solway had a streak of sentimentality. He cooed over babies and the world said what a delightful man he was.

‘Honestly, darling,’ Becky said, ‘this will make everything all right.’

How stupid could you be?

Her father was almost out of his mind with rage.

‘You got yourself knocked up by that…?’ He finished on a stream of profanity.

‘Dad, I didn’t get “knocked up”. I got pregnant by a man I love. Please don’t try to make it sound like something dirty.’

‘It is dirty. How dare he lay a finger on you?’

‘Because I wanted him to. To put it plainly, I dragged him into bed, not the other way around.’

‘Don’t ever let me hear you say that again,’ he shouted.

‘It’s true! I love Luca and I’m going to marry him.’