Page 77 of Winter With You

He was going. He’d already made that decision. For so many reasons – as always the protection of his mother and sister and now, in addition, too many people he cared about were being dragged into this – Sybille, Errol, Gabriella and Phoebe. Innocents. His decision to see his father came down to his morality. His values. His need to do right. So, Steffi wasn’t asking for much more than he had already decided he had to give.

‘OK,’ he answered, nodding.

Steffi’s expression visibly brightened. ‘You’ll listen? Without already having decided that it won’t be something you want to hear?’

He nodded again. ‘Yes. But there is something else I wanted to ask you.’

‘What?’ Steffi asked.

‘I’ve not been to the prison before,’ Luca said. ‘Will you… come with me? Just, you know, to the outside or wherever you’re allowed to.’

Steffi reached for his hands then, drawing them into hers across the diner table. ‘Yes, Luca. Of course I will.’

And in that moment, he felt his sister’s warmth and it mattered more now than perhaps it ever had.

47

CENTRAL PARK, MANHATTAN

‘I think Mr Darcy needs to poop,’ Phoebe said as they crunched across the icy paths of Central Park under a cloud-ridden sky.

‘How do you know?’ Gabriella asked. ‘Don’t they just squat and go?’

‘He’s shaking his butt,’ Phoebe said, gloved hands holding the lead tight as Mr Darcy sauntered forward.

‘Well, Cardi B does that too and she doesn’t always need to poop. I don’t think,’ Gabriella replied, eyes on the screen of her phone.

‘He’s squatting now! Do you have a plastic bag?’

Gabriella looked up. ‘Shit.’

‘Yes, exactly that. Do you have a plastic bag?’

‘No, but let me see what I do have.’ She began to rifle through her small handbag. ‘Chewing gum, no good. Hotel keycard. Phone. Purse.’ Then she stopped looking at the contents of her bag and looked at her hands. ‘Grandmama bought me these gloves. I never liked them. And I think they came from Liberty. Even better. Expensive gloves. Let me know when he’s done.’

With the poop popped out then wrapped up in the costly alternative to a pick-up pouch, they continued their walk.

‘So, where did you go last night?’ Phoebe asked her.

‘What? When?’

‘Gabriella, you know I’m not stupid so why do you sometimes pretend otherwise?’

That was a good point. But also she wasn’t about to confess where she had been, what she’d been doing or with whom. ‘Sorry.’

‘So, where did you go?’ Phoebe repeated.

‘Just for a walk. To clear my head.’

‘Walking on your own again? Like in London.’

‘Yeah, just me and the moon and Cheyenne’s voice ringing in my ears.’

‘Really?’ Phoebe asked as Mr Darcy sniffed around a bush. ‘I thought you might have gone to check in on Luca.’

‘Oh, well, no, I mean I think it’s an international rule that you don’t check in on a man who’s been covered in a bucket of blood at a Christmas market.’

‘He said it was fake blood!’ Phoebe exclaimed.