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‘Very well,’ he bit out. ‘I won’t ring you until next Sunday evening.’ With that he hung up, too annoyed with her even to say goodbye. Lord, but she was one difficult woman!
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
VERONICA DIDN’T SLEEP well that night, tossing and turning until well after midnight, then waking with the dawn. For a long time she lay there, thinking about Leonardo. Already she was regretting her tough stance of the night before, knowing full well that when next Sunday came she would say yes to spending the following weekend with him. Which meant she wouldn’t be ringing the airlines today and changing her flight to an earlier one.
The romantic side of her wanted to believe he was falling in love with her, but the sensible, pragmatic side kept warning her that it was too good to be true. It was just as well, she decided in the end, that she’d forbidden him to ring her this week. At least that way she wouldn’t be swayed by his sexy voice and, yes, his flattery. Veronica vowed to keep her head and to use this week to do what she’d come here to do: find out everything she could about her father.
It was a stroke of luck that at eleven that morning, after Veronica had spent hours going through her father’s computer without finding a single enlightening thing—he obviously only used it for the most basic correspondence and banking—the front doorbell was rung by the one person who possibly knew more about Laurence than anyone else living on Capri.
Carmelina, Leonardo’s sister and Laurence’s part-time housekeeper.
‘Good morning, Veronica,’ she said when Veronica opened the sliding glass door, her English more formal than her brother’s. ‘I am sorry if I woke you.’
Veronica sashed her bathrobe and smiled at Carmelina. ‘You haven’t. I’ve been up for hours. I was just too lazy to get dressed.’
Carmelina smiled back. She was in her mid-to late thirties and still very attractive—as all the Fabrizzis were—with dark eyes and hair and the loveliest olive skin.
Good genes, her father would have said. Veronica smiled at the thought, pleased that she could think of her father without feeling frustrated with him.
‘I have come to do the cleaning,’ Carmelina said. ‘Leonardo. He is a messy boy. He drops towels and does not pick up.’
‘Oh, no, no, no,’ Veronica said. ‘I couldn’t possibly let you do that. I am quite capable of doing my own cleaning. Trust me. I am not that lazy. I have all day and nothing much else to do. But, now that you’re here, I would like to talk to you. About my father,’ she added quickly when Carmelina looked a little alarmed.
They had coffee together out on the terrace, Carmelina also admiring the view, despite no doubt having seen it countless times. The day was warmer than the previous day, and the sea breeze delightfully cooling.
‘I wish I didn’t have to sell this place,’ Veronica said.
‘Do you have to? I would like you to live here. You would be a very nice neighbour.’
‘I can’t afford the taxes,’ she said, having realised that proving Laurence was her father would be virtually impossible. There wasn’t a single personal item of his in his bedroom or bathroom, everything having been cleared out and the whole house thoroughly cleaned.
‘If you married Leonardo,’ Carmelina said, ‘he would pay the taxes. He is very rich.’
Veronica smiled at the wonderful simplicity of Carmelina’s solution. If only life was that straightforward. ‘You all want Leonardo to get married, don’t you?’
‘Si,’ Carmelina said. ‘But only to someone nice. Like you.’
‘We’ve only just met, Carmelina.’
‘No matter. I love my Alfonso the first day I meet him. Leonardo likes you very much. I can tell.’
‘Yes, but…’
‘You like him too.’
‘I do, but…’
Carmelina frowned over at her, waiting for her to continue.
‘I don’t think Leonardo is ready for marriage yet.’
‘Oh, pah! He is ready. He just needs a push.’
‘Pushing doesn’t always work, Carmelina. Not with someone like Leonardo. He has to make up his own mind. You should tell your mother and father to back off.’
‘Laurence thought he needed a push.’
‘What? What did you say?’
