Chapter 91 Sophie
S OPHIE
Sophie sits on Penelope’s bed, watching her pack. Christian’s death has officially been classed as self-defence. Their passports were returned to them this afternoon. But Penelope isn’t packing for Melbourne, she’s headed to Switzerland. Sophie’s booked her a room at the rehabilitation clinic Rocco went to years ago. The minimum stay is two weeks, but she imagines her mother will need significantly longer than that. Paying for this exclusive clinic is going to eat up most of Sophie’s savings and she’s okay with that.
Her phone pings with a message from Bec.
Penelope on that plane yet?
Wish I could be there myself to make sure she bloody well gets on it.
Sophie snorts.
‘What is it, darling?’ Penelope looks up.
‘Just a message from Bec.’
‘Is she in a mood at you for leaving the magazine?’
‘Not at all.’
When Rocco told Sophie that Loretta was scaling back her work in the restaurant to spend more time with Alberto, there was no question in her mind that Il Cuore was meant for her. She’s enjoyed writing for Foodie but now she’s ready to commit fully to her lifelong dream of running a restaurant.
Before all the trauma of last night, she’d had a successful debut with a dinner service that the guests raved about. It gave her a buzz like no other, and she’s decided that people falling over themselves to compliment her cooking is just the kind of energy she wants for her life going forward. It feels pre-destined that her final feature for Foodie will be about Il Cuore . And what a feature it will be! The markets, the locals, the sights, the family, the food – she could write a whole essay on the gnocchi alone.
‘You are going to be my boss in the kitchen,’ Rocco said, grinning at her earlier today. ‘I will have to do what you say.’
‘Not just in the kitchen, Signore Bianchi.’
Rocco was at her side minutes after she called him in an almost catatonic state following Christian’s death. With the hotel turned on its head, Rocco organised emergency accommodation for all the guests, and he was the spokesperson for the media and the contact person for the police. He even arranged for the carpet to be replaced in the Dawsons’ suite today, all the while not leaving her alone for a minute. He’s proven to her how dependable he can be in her lowest and most vulnerable moments.
The last two days have been the stuff of nightmares. The sight of Christian’s body while he lay there bleeding out, Penelope’s and Gayle’s hysteria, the ambulance and the police storming the hotel – it all left her deeply shaken. And that was before she was manhandled into the police boat and taken to a stiflingly small room at the police station. There, she endured the ordeal of hours of interrogation by hostile detectives, with a language barrier complicating things further, and with a stone cold fear in her heart that they’d lock her mother up for good.
Sophie’s spent more hours crying than not, and Rocco has been rock-solid through all of it. She’s determined to be just as solid for him. She’s found her person and she’s going to support him as best she can in his efforts to stay sober. Because that’s how Rocco deserves to be loved.
She’s going home next month to get her little flat ready to rent out, then she’s moving to San Marco, taking out a lease on an apartment on the top floor of Hotel Il Cuore and starting her life anew.
Penelope hands her a small plastic ornament of the Virgin Mary. ‘Take this, Fee. Keep it in your room. Our Lady will watch over you.’
Sophie turns the ornament over in her hand. Its colour is odd. ‘Does this thing glow in the dark?’
‘Yes, dear, that way Our Lady can keep watch over you at night, keep you safe.’
‘Mum!’ she hoots. ‘You can’t honestly believe in the powers of a glow-in-the-dark Mary doll?’
Penelope purses her lips. ‘It’s a sin to mock the Blessed Virgin.’
Sophie straightens her face. ‘Yes, right. Sorry.’
Her mother’s lips tremble.
‘Oh, Mum, it’s all right, I’m sorry. I’ll keep the ornament, I promise.’
‘It’s not that.’ Penelope shakes her head. ‘I can’t get that man’s face out of my head. The look in his eyes. It’ll haunt me forever.’
Sophie’s shoulders tense. She’s haunted by it too. She keeps remembering how she stood above him while the air left his body in a low, final exhale. She never considered herself to be a violent person. In fact, she prized her gentleness. It made her feel superior. But that moral high ground collapsed beneath her when he died.
Now she’s been forced to rethink what she’s capable of. Murder, apparently. This new understanding is an epiphany of sorts, one that’s come to her on the twelfth day of Christmas. Because life’s funny like that.
Would her actions be the same if she had her time over? Unquestionably. She’d gleefully watch the canals of Venice run red with his blood, over and over again. That’s who she is now.
All these years, Sophie’s been judging her mother for what she did, but when it came down to it, she was no different. Her base instincts took over when it became a matter of survival, and she was fully prepared to kill another human being. Coming to terms with her own fallibility has made her accept Penelope’s humanity for the first time. She truly understands why Penelope did what she did now.
‘Can I ask you something, Mum?’ she says. ‘Why did you take the blade out of my hand yesterday? Why didn’t you just let me do it?’
Penelope lets out a shaky sigh. ‘Because I want you to go to heaven, Fee. I already have blood on my hands. But your soul’s pure. I couldn’t bear for you to tarnish it.’
Sophie freezes. ‘What do you mean, you already have blood on your hands?’
Penelope looks her straight in the eye. ‘You know exactly what I mean. There’s no place in heaven for people like me.’
‘So you do remember telling me what you did to Dad?’
‘Of course I remember. Who can forget something like that?’
Sophie can almost feel the weight being lifted off her shoulders now that it’s finally out in the open. ‘Do you know what I’d love, Mum? When you come back from Switzerland, I’d love for us to start having some conversations about it and begin the healing process together.’
‘We can talk about it, but, darling, it’s too late for me to heal. My fate’s sealed.’
‘I don’t think it can ever be too late.’ Sophie turns the ornament of Mary over in her hands. ‘But if that’s what you really believe, then why do you keep up with all the praying? What’s the point?’
‘Do you think I pray to save myself ?’ Penelope laughs a small laugh. ‘My dear girl, every prayer I’ve ever said has been for you and David. It’s all for you.’
Sophie hugs Penelope tight. ‘Come on, or you’ll miss your flight.’
Rocco’s waiting in the hallway, ready to escort Penelope to the airport. He adjusts his glasses and gives Sophie his megawatt smile when she emerges from Penelope’s room.
‘Pronta?’
Her heart leaps at the sight of him, this beautiful man who came into her life out of nowhere and made everything better.
‘Sono pronta.’ She smiles.