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‘All right, I’ll tell you but you’re not to tell your mother.’
Katy rolled her eyes. ‘I’m eleven, Dad. I know about secrets. It’s Ben that’s the blabbermouth around here, not me.’
Alessandro smiled. ‘All right—I’ve bought her a food processor.’
Katy stared at him in shocked silence. ‘You bought her what?’
‘A food processor.’ Alessandro shrugged. ‘You know—she uses it all the time and hers broke and—’
‘I know what a food processor is,’ Katy hissed, glancing towards the door to check that no one was listening, ‘but, Dad, that isn’t a good present.’
‘I bought the most expensive model in the shop.’
Katy shook her head frantically. ‘You have to get her something else, something that girls like.’
Wondering how he came to be sitting on a pink bedcover, taking advice from his eleven-year-old daughter, Alessandro lifted an eyebrow. ‘Such as?’
‘Something more personal. Jewellery.’
‘I’ve never bought your mother jewellery. She doesn’t wear jewellery.’
‘Well, she can’t wear what you’ve never bought her,’ Katy pointed out logically, and Alessandro gritted his teeth.
‘It’s a waste of money.’
‘Dad, you’re totally loaded,’ Katy said scornfully. ‘What’s the point of having money if you don’t spend it?’
‘She doesn’t like jewellery.’
‘All right.’ Katy lay back on the pillow with a weary look on her face. ‘Give her the food processor and let’s see what happens.’
Alessandro hesitated and then leaned forward to kiss her. ‘Don’t worry,’ he said softly, ‘everything is going to turn out fine.’
‘Not if you give her a blender, it isn’t,’ Katy muttered, rolling onto her side and yanking the duvet up over her shoulders. ‘Our Christmas is going to be well and truly puréed. You might want to think about that before you wrap it up. When I grow up I’m going to write a book called The Inner Workings of a Woman’s Mind, and you’re going to be my first customer.’
It was a novelty, Alessandro mused as he strolled along to the master bedroom suite, to be told by his eleven-year-old daughter that he didn’t understand women.
Should he be amused or insulted?
Christy didn’t care about things that glittered, he told himself as he swiftly undressed and strolled towards the shower.
She cared about the things that mattered, like their relationship and the children. Por Dios—he hit the buttons on the shower and closed his eyes as hot water streamed over his body—he’d married her so quickly that they hadn’t even bothered with an engagement.
And he spent money on the things that mattered. She had a beautiful house, a reliable car…
By the time he’d wrapped a towel round his waist and walked back into the bedroom, he’d convinced himself that he’d shown his love in any number of ways that truly mattered.
And then he saw Christy standing by the bed, lost in thought as she twisted the wedding band on her finger.
What was she thinking? he wondered.
Suddenly his stomach gave a lurch. Was she thinking of taking it off? They still hadn’t had a conversation about their future and he was afraid to bring the subject up in case he precipitated the unthinkable.
Christy returning to London.
‘I bought you that ring in a tiny shop in the East End of London where we were working,’ he said quietly, and she glanced up quickly and smiled.
‘That’s right. We were in such a hurry, weren’t we?’
