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‘Ma...’
‘Yes, dear?’
Ma Brown’s concerned tone both bolstered Callie and provided a much-needed wake-up call. She had never been a moaner, and she wasn’t about to start now that she was about to become a mother. ‘I don’t want you worrying about me,’ she stressed, ‘so I’m giving you an update.’
‘Ooh, lovely,’ Ma Brown enthused.
Callie could just picture her dear friend, pausing mid baking, or ironing, or dusting, or stirring a pot of something delicious on the stove, to hear what Callie knew she had to make into a Christmas fairy tale so that Ma Brown would smile and share it with the family, rather than fret about Callie over Christmas. ‘I’m in Fabrizio,’ she began.
‘I knew it!’ Ma Brown exclaimed. ‘You’re with the Prince.’
‘Yes. But there’s something else—’
‘You’re pregnant!’ Ma Brown shrieked before Callie had chance to say a word.
‘I had intended to break it to you gently—’
Ma Brown wasn’t listening. ‘Has he proposed yet?’
‘No,’ Callie admitted.
‘Why ever not?’ Ma Brown demanded good-humouredly. ‘Do you need me to come out there and prompt him? I will, if you like. I can easily catch a flight.’
‘No,’ Callie said again, this time laughing. Ma Brown’s voice had soared at least an octave. She probably didn’t need a phone to be heard in Fabrizio. ‘I promise I can deal with it.’
‘Tell me about his country, then,’ Ma Brown compromised, snatching a noisy breath as she attempted to calm down.
To a casual listener, their conversation might have seemed a little blasé under the circumstances, but Ma Brown could always imply more by her tone than she said in words. The simple phrase, tell me about Fabrizio, for instance, promised that the subject of Callie’s pregnancy had not been forgotten, but merely put on the back burner for now. One thing was certain. Ma Brown would always be on Callie’s side. Missing out the fact that she should have been planning her future, rather than scrambling over Luca, having sex in his jet and then in his car, Callie cut straight to the particulars. ‘Everything in Fabrizio looks as if it has been polished to a flawless sheen. Think Monte Carlo with a touch of Dubai—’
‘Oo-er,’ Ma Brown exclaimed, breathless with excitement. ‘Go on,’ she prompted.
‘Luca’s palace looks like something out of a fairy tale. It’s like Cinderella’s castle with turrets and crenellations. There’s even a drawbridge over the moat.’
‘Imagine the staff needed to look after that,’ Ma Brown breathed in awe.
‘And everyone wears uniform,’ Callie confirmed to add to the picture. ‘Sentries stand guard wearing black velvet tunics braided with gold—’
‘Goodness,’ Ma Brown cut in. ‘Isn’t that all a bit intimidating?’
You have no idea, Callie thought, but what she actually said was, ‘Poof! Not for you and me, Ma.’
‘That’s the spirit,’ Ma Brown exulted. ‘I’ve read about the palace and how fabulous it is. The countryside around it is supposed to be equally beautiful. Tell me about that now.’
Hmm. Difficult topic, Callie thought as the silence extended. ‘I was so excited on the drive from the airport to the palace I didn’t take much notice,’ she admitted truthfully. ‘I’ll make sure to check it out next time and let you know.’
Ma Brown hummed thoughtfully. ‘I’ve taken quite an interest in your Prince since he rode to your rescue.’
‘He’s not my Prince, Ma.’
Ignoring this, Ma Brown continued, ‘The late Prince has ancestry stretching back to the mists of time.’
Unlike Luca’s, which stretched back to the gutters of Rome. Or her own, Callie reflected, which extended to a row of small, back-to-back houses in the same neighbourly terrace as the Browns, which she wouldn’t exchange for the world. She couldn’t imagine how she’d have got on when she was younger without the wonderful support of the family next door.
‘When are you coming home, our Callie?’
‘I’m not sure,’ Callie admitted.
‘If I were you, I’d stay there as long as you can,’ Ma Brown cheerfully recommended. ‘There’s a grand ball soon in Fabrizio to celebrate Prince Luca’s enthronement. You can’t miss t
