Chapter 31 Rosie – Day 8
The cars will be here soon to take them out for the day at the lake.
There is a buzz in the air this morning over breakfast about the trip on Richard and Evelyn’s luxury yacht.
Rosie’s trying to match everyone’s enthusiasm but there’s something about spending the day on the infamous Lago Parrocchetto that fills her with uncertainty.
She tries to ignore the butterflies in her stomach as she takes her empty plate to the kitchen. They’re leaving in ten minutes.
Julietta glances up from the sink and gives her a polite smile. There is a pan full of bubbling water on the hob. A sweet roasting scent hangs in the air.
‘Grazie, you didn’t need to do that, cara,’ Julietta says.
‘Well, with Carla not around I thought I’d help . . .’
‘I appreciate it.’
It’s been three days since Giovanni delivered the news that Carla was missing. Not one of the Frasers has mentioned her name since.
A meowing fills the kitchen. It’s coming from behind the closed stable-style door. Julietta opens it and a milky white tabby cat, a skinny thing, slinks through the small gap.
‘Aww, she’s lovely.’ Rosie smiles.
‘She’s a stray. Decided this is her home.’
‘Hey, little one.’ Rosie bends down, the cat winding through her bare legs, reminding her of the cat she had as a child. Albeit a smaller, scrawnier version.
Julietta gets a saucer and pours out milk, and tears chicken from the fridge into smaller pieces. She presses her fingers to her lips. Rosie smiles and mimes zipping her lips, watching the older woman gently drop the scraps to the stone floor. The cat wastes no time in hoovering up the treats.
‘It was Carla who started feeding this thing not long after she started here. It pops by most days now. She loves animals. She would never leave her beloved dog behind. Never.’
‘Any news on where she might be?’ Rosie asks, stroking the cat.
Julietta shakes her head. ‘I wish the police would do more, but they only seem to care about the good girls. Carla is not from the best area and this was supposed to be a fresh start for her. Don’t get me wrong, she has her problems, but who doesn’t?’
Whilst they’ve all lazed in the sunshine, doing half-hearted laps in the pool, and celebrating the engagement, Julietta has been nervously waiting to find out where her friend is. She must watch them from the window, silently hating every one of the guests here.
‘Do the police think her boyfriend is involved?’ Rosie asks.
Julietta gives a half shrug. ‘Between us, she has a lot of male friends . . .’
Rosie stands, smiling sadly at the cat who is licking the plate clean.
‘Anyway, where are you going today?’ Julietta asks, opening the cutlery drawer.
There is a rumbling sound. The water in one of the pans on the hob starts to bubble.
‘To the lake.’
Julietta drops a spoon and says something in Italian. The metal clangs as it hits the worn stone tiles. There’s a hiss and a spit of boiling water. Rosie bends down to pick up the spoon and passes it to her.
Julietta doesn’t let her hand go. Instead of admiring her engagement ring, she unexpectedly leans closer. ‘Please be careful. This family, they . . .’ She stops herself as a door slams from somewhere in the house. Her eyes widen and the colour drains from her face.
Be careful.
Rosie’s heart thumps. ‘What?’
A second later, after a furtive check that no one is going to join them, she continues. ‘The family say they have no idea what happened to Danielle.’ Julietta chews her lip, speaking quickly and quietly. ‘That’s not true.’
The rumble from the hob grows louder.
Rosie swallows, alarmed at how serious Julietta has become. Gone is the ruddy-cheeked nonna, replaced with a scared, middle-aged woman gripping a spoon so hard her knuckles turn white. Boiling water spills over the top of the pan.
‘W-w-what? What do you know?’ Rosie stutters.
‘Listen to me. You can’t trust them.’
‘Who? I can’t trust who?’
Footsteps echo down the corridor. Someone is coming.
‘All of them.’ Julietta’s wild eyes flick from Rosie to the closed kitchen door. ‘I have always had my doubts about what they are capable of . . .’
A second later, a looming shadow enters the room. Julietta quickly slides the cat’s saucer behind her foot.
‘Ah, Rosie, here you are. Everyone is waiting for you outside,’ Luke says, stopping short inside the door.
Julietta darts to the hob and turns the heat down. She starts to scrub the countertop, her arm jerking swiftly over an invisible stubborn stain, flashing Luke a polite smile, which he ignores.
The cat is nowhere to be seen.
‘I was getting a glass of water,’ Rosie replies, hoping he doesn’t pick up on the waver in her voice. Is it her imagination or does he glance at them both with suspicion?
‘Julietta, any news on Carla?’ he asks.
Rosie turns to the sink, the cold water a refreshing relief against her trembling wrists.
‘No. Not yet,’ Julietta replies.
‘Rosie.’ Theo calls her name from somewhere.
Rosie wants to slip out of the kitchen. The stifling air is much too tense. She needs to get Julietta on her own and find out what she was about to say, but it will have to wait until they return from the day trip.
‘Are you sure everything is ok, Rosie?’ Luke asks, one eyebrow raised. He steps and blocks her path.
‘Fine. Never better,’ she replies, her voice high-pitched and forced.
‘Good to hear it. Julietta, do you know if we have any ice-cream?’ he asks, opening the freezer doors. ‘It feels like a day for ice-cream.’