As she said this Julia produced her gifts. She had spent much time choosing them in an art bookshop, asking for 'Something for a very intelligent eight-year-old.' The sight of Rosa's face as she unwrapped everything told her that she'd chosen well.
'You remembered,' Rosa breathed.
'Yes, I remembered what we said the other day,' Julia agreed, 'but I also remembered myself when I was your age. These are the kind of things I loved to read.'
She fell silent, watching as Rosa examined one book that she'd chosen with particular care. It was almost entirely pictures, each one with a large caption that was repeated twice, once in Italian, once in English.
Rosa ran her fingers down one of the shiny pages, letting them rest on the English. She was frowning a little, but then she nodded and looked up, smiling.
Julia reached into her bag. 'And I brought this for Carlo. I didn't wrap it because I thought perhaps you should see it first and make sure it's all right.'
It was a magnetic fishing puzzle. There was a brightly coloured picture, showing jungle creatures against lush foliage. Each animal could be separated from the background by dint of dangling a magnet until it made contact.
Rosa let out a whoop. 'He'll love this.'
'I hope so. The shop said it was suitable for a two-year-old. It's supposed to develop his skills at-well, moving and co-ordination and that sort of thing. Oh, never mind that. It looks fun.'
'Oh, yes, it does. Carlo will love it.'
'I remembered how sad he seemed the other day, and I thought he needed cheering up.'
'You saw him at San Michele, didn't you? Uncle Vincenzo was right, I shouldn't have taken him. He thought he was going to see Mamma and Papa and when they weren't there he cried. But you see-' She hesitated.
'Please trust me,' Julia said. 'You can tell me anything. I won't repeat it.'
Rosa nodded. 'My mother died when I was the same age as Carlo, and I can't really remember her. And I hate that. It's like having a gap when there ought to be somebody. I didn't want that to happen to Carlo, but I got it wrong.
'He's too young to understand about people dying, you see. He only knows that there's something missing. So Uncle Vincenzo and I show him lots of extra love. Gemma does too, of course, but we're his family. And that's different.'
'Yes,' Julia said slowly. 'Family is different.'
'Do you have any family?'
'I-no.'
'None at all?'
'My parents are dead.'
'And you never got married?'
'Well, yes, I did, but he's dead too.'
'No little boys or girls?' When Julia didn't answer Rosa was immediately contrite. 'I'm sorry, I didn't mean to be rude. Please forgive me.'
'You weren't rude,' Julia said huskily. 'I did have a little girl but I-lost her several years ago. She would have been about your age now.'
Rosa didn't answer in words, but she got up from the floor where she was sitting and put her arms about Julia's neck. Julia hugged her back, overwhelmed by the feel of her child's warmth and her cheek pressed against her own.
'I'm sorry,' Rosa whispered.
She drew back and smiled directly into Julia's face. 'It would be nice to think she would have been like you,' Julia said.
A glint of mischief came into the child's face. 'You wouldn't like it really. Uncle Vincenzo says I'm a fiend.'
'Oh, does he? And are you?'
'Oh, yes. I'm the worst fiend who ever, ever lived.'
'Hmm. That sounds final enough. I guess you must be.'
As she spoke her eye was caught by a large photograph on the sideboard. It was a wedding picture, the bride in glorious white satin and lace. Vincenzo, looking younger, stood beside his sister.
Just behind it was another picture, showing the bride and groom with a little girl in front of them, and in another the bride stood alone, holding the child in her arms. They were regarding each other fondly.
Julia drew a sharp breath. For all her euphoric mood there would still be such moments to be faced. Rosa had been three when these pictures had been taken, and recognisable as the baby Julia had lost. Now she was nestling in the arms of another 'mother'. Unconsciously Julia tightened her own arms around her child, as though by doing so she could reclaim her.
'That was you,' she said softly.
'Oh, yes, when Mamma and Papa got married.'
Julia forced herself to let go. 'Do you have any more?'
'There's an album here,' Rosa said, diving down the side of the bookcase.
Vincenzo appeared in the doorway, saying, 'I'm just going to check on Carlo, see if he's awake yet.'
'I'd better come too,' Rosa said at once.
'I can be trusted to look after him,' he complained.
'Yes, but-he likes to see me when he wakes up,' Rosa said seriously, and hurried out of the room.
Vincenzo sighed. 'She's just like her mo- Like Bianca. She thinks nobody else can be trusted to do anything. We won't leave you alone for long.'
When they had gone Julia began to go through the album Rosa had given her. She knew the contents would hurt, but she had to learn all she could.
It was full of pictures of Bianca and Rosa: more wedding shots, then every milestone in the child's life, birthdays, Christmas, Epiphany.
There was the child in her father's arms, snuggling against him with an air of content. On this evidence he looked like a good father.
And he really did love her, she thought. That's why he took her with him instead of leaving her with my mother. What am I going to tell her when the time comes?
'Come along,' said Rosa's voice from the doorway.
She was holding Carlo by the hand, leading him forward until they were both standing before Julia. He was the image of his father.
'Say "Buongiorno",' Rosa told him in a stage whisper.
But the little boy hid his face against her and shook his head vigorously.
'He's shy,' Rosa said. 'Look, little one, here's a present for you.'
But he only shook his head the more and began to grizzle, clinging onto his sister.
'I'm sorry,' Rosa said, lifting him in her arms. 'I'd better take him back. He'll be better later.'
She hurried out with the weeping child. Vincenzo, who had been watching, said in a low voice, 'While we have a moment, there's something I need to know, although I have a horrid feeling I know the answer. If your husband simply vanished I don't suppose there was ever a divorce?'
'Not that I heard of.'
'So he was still married to you when he married Bianca. Bastardo! And Carlo is illegitimate. You've seen how it is with him and Rosa. He's one of the things that's holding her together.'
Something else linking her to her new life. Something else taking her away from her mother.
'Julia-'
'It's all right,' she said, shaking her head. 'I've got my breath now.'
She rose and went in search of Rosa. Hearing a murmur from behind a door across the hall, she followed the sound and found herself in a room with a bed and a cot. The two children were sitting on the floor.
'May I come in?' she asked tentatively.
Instead of hiding, the little boy giggled at her. Encouraged, Julia sat down on the edge of the bed.
'He doesn't mind me?' she asked.
'No, he's all right here,' Rosa explained, 'because this is our room. Befana brought him lots of presents this morning. Look.' She swept out a hand towards a merry pile. 'But this one is still his favourite, even though it's years old.'
She pointed to a blue furry rabbit that the boy was clutching, so old and shabby that much of its fur was gone. As Julia looked a strange feeling began to come over her, part ache, part joy. She had seen that rabbit before, long ago, in another life, when it was bright and new.
'Yes, it looks very old,' she said slowly. 'Who gave it to him?'
'I did,' Rosa said proudly. 'His name is Danny. He was my best friend when I was young.' She spoke as if she were a hundred. 'Mamma said that when we met I was clutching him and I wouldn't let him go. Papa was ever so cross.'