‘When one receives news such as mine, one is advised to put one’s affairs in order…’
His voice was edged a little. Luca could hear it, and he understood the reason for it,
‘To make everything…tidy,’ Matteo went on. ‘For our families and for ourselves. When I came home from hospital, this I proceeded to do. All the usual things—my will, my finances and so on. But there were also more personal matters. Painful things I have shut away for many years.’
His expression changed.
‘You may not be aware, Luca, that I had a brother—Tomaso. As boys we were very close, but as young men someone came into our lives. Luisa.’
He paused.
‘We both fell in love with her, but it was me she loved. It…drove Tomaso away. He could not face seeing me marry the woman he loved. He took himself off, went to England. I let him be, married Luisa, got on with my life.’
He reached for his wine again, drank once more, as if in need of it.
‘I did not hear from him again—until news of his fatal car crash in France was brought to me by the police. I was named as his next of kin in his passport. He had been heading back to Italy. His effects were sent to me—his suitcase—but I could notbear to open it. Recently, knowing how little time is left to me, I did. And I found, inside, what I had no idea was in there.’
He drew a breath—a difficult one—and his voice was strained as he went on.
‘I found, inside the cover of a book, to keep it smooth, his marriage certificate to Bianca’s mother. He was a newlywed, returning to Italy to prepare a home for her, his bride—but she never even knew he had been killed. She must have thought that she had been abandoned, left to raise their child alone. A child I did not even know existed until I set London lawyers to find out what they could about the marriage I had never even knew he’d made. And they found Bianca…’
Now, finally, his voice softened.
‘The niece I never knew I had. My lost brother’s daughter.’
Luca could see the emotion visible in Matteo’s face, and for a moment it seemed his godfather would not speak again. But then he did, and his voice was warm and cherishing.
‘And here she is…my dearest, dearest Bianca,’ he said.
His smile went to her, encompassing and embracing, and Luca saw her take Matteo’s hand and gently squeeze it.
‘And here I shall stay,’ she said.
She said it to Matteo, and the voice in which she spoke was as warm as his. Unlike the glance that suddenly, for a fraction of a second, she shot across the table at Luca. Icy and defiant.
He realised his godfather was speaking again, and made himself pay attention.
‘So, there you have it, my boy,’ he said heavily. ‘How I wish with all my heart that I had known of Bianca’s existence earlier, so that she might have grown up here. But at least I have found her now, even if our time together must be brief.’
Sadness was in his voice again. Then he rallied.
‘I shall make the very most of that time,’ he declared, sounding resolute. ‘And when I am gone I shall know that my brother’sdaughter is well provided for. She will have her father’s portion, which so wrongly came to me, and she will be my heir as well.’
Luca frowned. Why was Matteo telling him this? Yes, he knew he was to be his godfather’s executor when the time came, but he had never had expectations of any legacy himself. Bianca was welcome to it.
It would make her a very wealthy woman. A world away from the Bianca he had known.
It was impossible to associate the Bianca he had known in London with the woman now revealed to be his godfather’s niece. The dissonance was too great. Too unbelievable.
With difficulty, he made himself speak.
‘I am glad for you Matteo, that you have found your brother’s daughter.’ He could not bring himself to look across the table at Bianca, so he did not. ‘Thank you for telling me.’
Agitation suddenly possessed his godfather. ‘I have more to say, Luca! More that you must hear! And Bianca must hear too!’
And as he spoke on, for a third time that evening, Luca froze.
* * *