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The trouble was she would never really know either way. Because she didn’t know the man.
‘Would you like me to make you some coffee, love?’ her mother asked.
‘Yes, that would be nice,’ she replied politely, thinking what she really wanted was to be left alone. She needed to think.
Her mother disappeared, leaving Veronica to ponder the reason why her father had chosen to make his identity known at this late stage, when he could no longer be a living presence in her life. What she wouldn’t have given to have a real father when she’d been growing up, when she’d been at school, when her bitchy so-called friends would tease her about having come out of a test tube. She’d laughed at the time. But she hadn’t found their jibes funny at all. The hurt had struck deep. Teenage girls, she’d found, had a very mean streak. It was no wonder she’d always gravitated to boys when making close friends.
Thinking of boys reminded Veronica that there was one very grown-up boy she would have to ring back shortly.
Leonardo Fabrizzi.
She wasn’t looking forward to telling him that Laurence Hargraves was her biological father. He was sure to ask her lots of questions.
Still, she had lots of questions she wanted to ask him. After all, if he was close enough to her father to have been made executor of his will, then he had to have known him very well. Maybe he had a photo or two that he could send her. She would dearly love to know what this Laurence looked like.
Veronica was nothing like her mother in looks. Nora Hanson was quite short with brown hair, grey eyes and a rather forgettable face and figure. In truth, she was on the plain side. Veronica had always assumed she’d inherited her striking looks from her biological father. Maybe now she’d have the opportunity to see the evidence for herself.
This last thought propelled an idea into Veronica’s brain which had her sitting up abruptly then scrambling off the bed. She raced out into the hallway and bolted down to the kitchen, where she snatched up her phone which she’d left lying on the counter.
‘Goodness!’ her mother said, startled perhaps by her sudden exuberance. ‘Who are you ringing?’
‘The Italian I told you about. Leonardo Fabrizzi. I promised to ring him back once I’d talked to you.’
‘Oh,’ Nora said, looking pained. ‘You’re not going to tell him everything, are you? I mean, does he have to know about your being Laurence’s daughter? Can’t you just sell him the villa and leave it at that?’
‘No, Mum,’ Veronica said firmly. ‘I can’t just leave it at that. And I am going to tell him I’m Laurence’s daughter. For one thing, it makes a difference to the inheritances taxes if I’m a relative. On top of that, I won’t be selling Mr Fabrizzi the villa straight away. There’s something else I have to do first.’
‘What?’
Veronica told her.
CHAPTER FOUR
LEONARDO’S HEART JUMPED when his phone finally rang, then began to race when he saw it was her at last. Why was he suddenly nervous? He wasn’t a nervous person. On the ski slopes, he’d been known for his nerve, not his nervousness. The press had called him Leo the Lion because of his lack of fear. When he’d retired, he’d chosen the image of a lion as the logo for his sportswear company.
‘Thank you for calling me back, Miss Hanson,’ he answered, putting the phone on speaker as he leant back in his leather chair and did his best to act cool and businesslike. ‘Was your mother able to tell you anything enlightening?’
‘She certainly did.’ Her answer was crisp, her voice possibly even more businesslike than his own. ‘It seems that Laurence Hargraves was my biological father.’
Leonardo snapped forward on his chair. ‘Mio Dio! How did that happen?’
‘It seems Mr Hargraves came to Australia about thirty years ago to do genetic research at the Sydney University. He was given a house as part of the deal and my mother was hired as his housekeeper.’
‘And what? They had an affair?’ Leonardo found the concept of Laurence being unfaithful hard to believe. Laurence had been devoted to his wife. They’d been an inseparable couple, their love for each other very obvious to everyone who knew them.
‘No, no, nothing like that. Though my mother said that she and Laurence became quite good friends during the two years she worked for him. With Ruth too. She said she was a lovely lady. No, they didn’t have an affair, or even a one-night stand.’
‘I don’t understand, then.’
‘Mum had me through IVF. I thought my biological father was an impoverished law student from Latvia who sold his sperm for money. That’s what I’d always been told. But it was a lie. Laurence was the sperm donor.’
‘I see… Well, that explains everything, I suppose. Though not the secrecy.’
‘Did you know that Laurence’s wife couldn’t have children?’
‘Not exactly. Though I did know they’d never had children. I didn’t know which of them was the cause of their childlessness. Or whether they’d just decided not to have children. It’s not something you can ask without being rude. Obviously, the problem was Ruth’s.’
‘Yes. Mum told me Ruth had very bad cancer genes which ran through her family and had killed off all her relatives. She decided as a young woman not to pass any of those genes on and had a total hysterectomy. She met Laurence through his work on genes and they fell in love. He told my mother he didn’t overly mind about not having children as his love for Ruth was all-consuming. And so was his work. In fact, his work was the reason behind his becoming my biological father.’
