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‘That’s a risk you have to take. When Alejandro and I reconciled I didn’t want to take that risk either,’ Jemima admitted to her friend, referring to the reality that she and her husband had lived apart for a couple of years before having a second go at making their marriage work for the sake of their son, Alfie. ‘You’re scared of being hurt. You’re afraid to let your life go here in England, but you have to take those chances before you can find out if you and Angelo are meant to be together.’
‘What happened between us was just an accident,’ Flora argued ruefully. ‘I don’t think Angelo and I are meant to be together.’
‘Flora, you haven’t trusted a man since your engagement to Peter bit the dust,’ Jemima remarked ruefully.
Flora sighed. ‘It’s probably been even longer than that. My father being a womaniser predates Peter, and that’s the problem with Angelo—’
‘He’s a womaniser too?’ Jemima interrupted with a frown of dismay.
‘I don’t know about that.’ Flora groaned and pulled a face. ‘He’s a gorgeous-looking guy and he’s single and rich, so of course he’s had a lot of women in his life. But he doesn’t believe in love or romance. Strikes me he’s a commitment-phobe.’
‘Yet he clearly loves Mariska, or he wouldn’t be so determined to bring her up, so I wouldn’t give up hope on him yet. A child is a very big commitment for a single man to take on,’ Jemima pointed out thoughtfully. ‘He’s also doing everything he can to support you and he clearly wants the triplets as well. Full marks for him on that score.’
‘I’m not saying that he doesn’t have an admirable side to his nature. I mean, it’s obvious that he really likes kids,’ Flora conceded grudgingly.
‘And fancies the socks off you,’ Jemima chipped in. ‘Or you wouldn’t be in the condition you’re in now. He’d be keeping more distance between you if he didn’t want a relationship with you. I think his inviting you to share his home with him is quite a statement for a so-called commitment-phobe.’
Encouraged by her friend to look at the more positive side of Angelo’s invitation, Flora began to come to terms with her seemingly impulsive decision. She was starting to appreciate that something a good deal stronger than impulse had prompted her to accept Angelo’s proposition. In her heart of hearts she recognised that, in spite of her fears, she did truly want to have the courage to take a chance on Angelo. He might often infuriate her but she did find him hugely attractive and stimulating company. He was the first man since Peter to make her feel that sense of connection and she wanted and needed to explore that in greater depth.
Three days after Jemima’s departure, a professional firm arrived to pack and transport her most cherished belongings to Amsterdam, while special travelling arrangements were made for her dog and cat. Angelo rang most days but since he was very busy and often between meetings they would only have time to speak for the space of a minute so it was never a challenge to maintain a conversation. Flora was already feeling a good deal stronger since she had cancelled her remaining guest bookings and had spoiled herself with early nights and relaxing days. She was relieved when the worst attacks of nausea almost immediately receded and her appetite began to slowly recover.
Only three weeks after she had learned that she was carrying triplets, Flora arrived at Angelo’s Amsterdam home.
Skipper, who had travelled over two days earlier, raced to greet her with boisterous enthusiasm and she clutched his little squirming body below one arm while the driver who had collected her off her flight brought in her suitcase. Mango the cat, Angelo’s housekeeper, Therese, informed Flora, was sleeping in his basket by the stove in the basement kitchen.
‘He is being spoiled a lot. Therese adores cats,’ Anke shared laughingly as she came downstairs holding Mariska.
The little girl held out her arms to her aunt in immediate happy recognition. Flora scooped the child into a loving embrace. All the agonies of insecurity and the misgivings that had tormented Flora since she had first agreed to move to Amsterdam fell away with her niece’s first hug. As she held Mariska’s solid weight to her and felt the warmth of her smooth baby cheek against her own, Flora finally believed that she had made the right decision.
A couple of hours later, comfortably clad in casual togs, Flora was happily sitting on a rug in the nursery building up brick towers with Mariska and toppling them again when she received an unexpected visitor.
An elegant platinum blonde, wearing a beautiful flowing top and trousers in a shade of grey that lent an even more flattering silvery hue to her hair and porcelain complexion, rapped lightly on the ajar door to attract Flora’s attention and gave her a wide smile that showed off perfect teeth. ‘I hope you don’t mind me dropping in. I asked Therese if I could come up. When Angelo mentioned that you were arriving today I wanted to be the first to welcome you to our city,’ she said brightly.
It was Bregitta Etten, whom she had first met in Angelo’s house on the evening of the same day that she had conceived her triplets. Angelo and Bregitta had been on the brink of going out somewhere that night but Flora had never had the courage to ask what the beautiful blonde’s exact relationship to Angelo was, and just at that moment not knowing made her feel distinctly uncomfortable. She scrambled upright while Mariska crawled round her feet and grabbed her aunt’s trouser leg to haul herself into standing position on sturdy little legs. ‘Thank you,’ Flora responded a little awkwardly, while reaching down to pat the little girl’s head soothingly.
‘It’s wonderful to see you with Willem’s daughter … poor little girl, such a tragedy to lose both parents at once,’ Bregitta sighed with rich sympathy. ‘Of course, when Mariska has grown up she’ll have a very large inheritance to help her come to terms with that tragic loss.’
Taken aback by that remark and its rather mercenary tenor, Flora frowned. ‘Mariska … has an inheritance?’
A look of surprise flared in Bregitta’s bright dark eyes. ‘Mariska will come into her father’s trust fund once she’s an adult. Didn’t you know that?’
Rosy colour warmed Flora’s cheeks because she was embarrassed that it had not occurred to her that her niece would inherit and she also wondered why Angelo had neglected to mention it to her. Evidently Bregitta was much more informed about the van Zaal family’s private financial affairs than Flora was and in the circumstances it was a slap in the face for Flora to be confronted head-on with that reality.
‘Of c
ourse, had he had the opportunity Willem would have wasted his inheritance, and Mariska, just like her father before her, is a heavy responsibility for Angelo to take on.’
Flora lifted her chin. ‘I realise that Willem had his problems,’ she commented, choosing her words with care. ‘But he was kind, he loved my sister and I liked him.’
‘I didn’t intend to offend you,’ Bregitta responded ruefully. ‘We Dutch simply like to be frank.’
‘Oh, no, you didn’t offend me!’ Flora proclaimed in haste, wondering why it was that she was finding it so hard to warm to the other woman’s apparent friendliness.
Bregitta shook her silver-blonde head, her expression wry. ‘I shouldn’t have commented but Angelo already has so many weighty commitments in his life.’
‘I wouldn’t really know about that,’ Flora admitted uneasily, wondering if she with her expected progeny fell into that demeaning category as well.
‘Angelo just accepts it—his life has always been that way. When his father made such a disastrous second marriage, Angelo had to grow up fast, and then, of course, Katja’s accident only made it worse.’
