Chapter One #3
Jade dropped her gaze to the pitted wooden table where she’d eaten countless meals.
Coloured, written and drawn. Sighed over homework until Gran would settle beside her, giving her a squeeze and declaring, ‘Nothing’s that bad, m’darling.
We’ll sort it out together.’ Why on earth had Joey left such a warm, loving person behind?
‘Then I’m glad she had his occasional emails for what comfort they gave her.
’ She pulled the clip from her hair and shook it out, massaging her temples against a headache.
‘She wants me to make a family with my half-sisters, so I won’t be all alone.
Salute.’ She clinked her cup against Vittoria’s as if they were drinking Franciacorta, Lombardy’s version of champagne.
The coffee was too hot and its sweet bitterness burnt her already aching throat.
Her voice emerged huskily. ‘This place isn’t only where I work.
It’s my home. We came here after we lost Nonno.
I’ve never worked anywhere else, content with my salary and “wee perks” as Gran called bonuses.
Surely Joey would have been none the wiser if she’d told me about the others and warned me what was going to happen? ’
Vittoria’s chocolate-coloured eyes shone with sympathy. ‘Maybe she didn’t want to tempt you.’
As if scrunching up her forehead could force understanding into her brain, Jade frowned hard. ‘Tempt me to what?’
Vittoria shrugged. ‘Do you know your sisters’ names?’
‘I do now. Erin Ferguson and Rosalie Beretta.’ She ignored a thump of her heart at the word ‘sisters’.
Vittoria arched an eyebrow. ‘Have you googled them?’
Unguardedly, Jade said, ‘Not yet.’
Smile softening, Vittoria repeated her reply.
‘Not yet.’ She laid a sympathetic hand on Jade’s.
‘Suggesting you will soon. Of course you will. It’s human nature, Jade.
Mairead knew you’d look on Instagram and Facebook, and everything else.
Then you wouldn’t be able to resist sending friend requests.
You’d maybe comment on one of their posts.
You’d see photos and they might have your eyes or hair, and you’d feel the connection.
You’re such a sweetie . . . I’m not convinced you’d resist getting in touch. ’
Jade’s face burned, aware that Vittoria was right.
And that somehow Joey might have found out and cut contact, breaking Gran’s heart.
Crossly, she snorted. ‘Apparently, I get my hair from Geneva, not Joey, so we can’t share that.
’ A rich chestnut, her hair glinted with red highlights any hair salon would have been proud to produce.
From somewhere in the building came the sound of a closing door and a muffled voice.
All the guestrooms were occupied today: couples, a family and three single-occupancy guests.
Tomorrow, Jade would put out breakfast: a buffet of bread rolls, croissants, sfogliatelle and canoli pastries, conserves, cheeses, yoghurts, fruit and cereal, with a flowing supply of coffee, juice and tea, all supplemented by a modest hot-food menu.
The distant noises from guests seemed to turn Vittoria’s mind to pensione matters too. ‘On the day of the funeral, Carlotta will bring Ludovica to do the rooms. I will be with you.’ Ludovica was Carlotta’s partner, who worked in her mother’s silk shop nearby.
Jade’s eyes filled again. ‘Thanks. I’ll be glad to have you with me.’ She gave a strangled gulp. ‘Oh, Vittoria! What if I have to leave the pensione?’
With a scrape of the chair over the kitchen flagstones, Vittoria rounded the table and crouched beside her for a fierce hug, enveloping Jade in warmth and loving familiarity. ‘How can that happen?’
‘If they both want to sell, I’ll be outvoted.
’ Jade laid her head on Vittoria’s soft shoulder.
‘Even if they want to continue under shared ownership, my situation will change. Profits will have to be split three ways and I might have to pay rent for living in the apartment.’ An idea swam to the top of her mind. ‘Unless I can buy them out.’
Vittoria stroked her hair. ‘I suppose any of those things are possibilities.’ She went on smoothing Jade’s hair – as much as such springy curls would let themselves be smoothed. ‘You can discuss it with them. They’re your sisters.’
Though she wanted to clap her hands over her ears and not hear Vittoria’s words, Jade just sighed. ‘They’re Gran’s granddaughters and Joey’s kids. But I don’t feel they’re anything to me. Except a threat.’
Later, after Vittoria and Yara had left for the day and Jade need only cover Reception until seven, she went into her bedroom, hers for the past twenty-five years.
There she’d graduated through posters of rock bands Litfiba and Negrita, alongside pictures of American band Green Day, to the current smart white bedcovers and a caramel-coloured rug on the floor tiles.
From the dressing table, she lifted Mairead’s jewellery box and felt underneath for the key. She wound it up to hear the brisk notes of ‘La Bella Gigogin’ tinkle on the warm evening air. She listened until the mechanism wound slowly down to the last ting . . . a ding . . . ding.
Carefully, she opened the lid. Necklaces and an array of old-fashioned clip-on earrings lay beside Nonno’s cufflinks and fede ring.
The small bag of Mairead’s personal effects, which the hospital had given to Jade, still lay on her bedroom chair.
Gently she took out Gran’s wedding and engagement rings, and laid them in the same compartment as Nonno’s ring, feeling a surge of love for her grandparents at the sight of these symbols of their love.
Then she closed the box.
Should she have told Mary Smith about Gran’s jewellery so it could be considered part of the estate?
No, she decided. Jade had been given her box sixteen years ago, when – it was now apparent – Gran had already known about Erin and Rosalie. She’d wanted Jade to have these things, even saying, ‘I want it all to be yours.’ And her rings belonged with all the rest.