Chapter 20

Diana towel-dried her hair and then pulled on her dressing-gown and went downstairs to make coffee and toast. She got a plate and knife from the cupboard and then went to the fridge for butter, thinking how markedly her life had changed in the last few months. And for the better. How different her mornings were, knowing she had Leo to look forward to at some point in the day – whether it was a phone call, or a night out at the cinema, or him just calling round to the house for a chat and a glass of wine in front of the fire. Ordinary things were now events and something worth looking forward to and talking about later.

And, by some small miracle, the handsome, kind, interesting Leo Conti seemed to feel exactly the same way about her. He told her that he looked forward to things unfolding every day, instead of planning to fill all the little empty gaps between work and Maria by joining friends for drinks or late-night card games . . . Maria, who he candidly admitted needed her father less and less.

“She has school, friends, horse-riding, and now a real boyfriend to take up most of her time,” he had confided in Diana when they sat chatting for hours in her place after their first date together. “And of course that is the way it should be. I am not complaining, it is the natural order of things. I left Italy and my parents when I wasn’t much older than Maria. I have been a father and a mother to her since she was a young girl, and Mrs Lowry became her second mother and the restaurant became her second home. Between all those things, we tried to fill the big empty gap that Anna left. Of course we all knew that it couldn’t really happen, but we did our best and Maria is as good as any girl her age.”

“Oh, she certainly is,” Diana said earnestly. “She is not only as good as but much better than any girls I know.”

“Thank you, but I have to realise that she now does not need me so much. I must be there for her and look after her for another few years until she is fully independent, but I must help her learn to live her own life.”

Since then, they had spent any evenings that Leo had off together. If Maria was out, they went to the cinema or theatre, or he came to her place for a drink or something to eat. And, if Maria was in, sometimes Diana came up to sit with her for an hour in the evenings, maybe watching television or discussing magazines, music or fashion. Maria often popped into Gladrags on Saturday mornings for a browse and a chat. Mrs Flynn’s voucher had been spent a while back, but it had introduced her to the rails of dresses and tops that Diana had sourced for her younger customers. On a couple of occasions when he was not working, Leo had made supper for the three of them, and, when it was Maria’s birthday, Leo treated the three of them, plus Paul, to a show in Manchester. And, recently, he asked Diana to come and join him mid-week for a late supper at the restaurant. All so very, very different from the routines they had before meeting each other.

And each time they met up, they had confided more and more in each other. Diana had listened carefully when Leo confessed about his late-night drinking and the card games after work. And, although it had concerned her, she told him that altering his routine and finding different things to do at that time was the only answer.

She had not been coy, and had said, “I’m very happy to spend as much of that time with you as you want, Leo.” Then, she had looked him straight in the eye. “But, if it doesn’t work out between us over the long term, I would advise you to find someone else to spend your time with, otherwise the drinking and the gambling will become the replacement for a real life.”

“I know, I know,” he had said. Then he had reached for her hand. “These past few weeks I have been doing a lot of thinking, and I realise that I have been travelling down the wrong path since Anna died – and a lot of the time I have been travelling alone. And I cannot blame anyone else, because I had good friends who told me this and I would not listen.” He shook his head. “Even poor Maria. I feel very guilty about her because she has worried so much about me, although I think she knows deep down that I meant no harm. She knows I would give my life for her.”

“Oh, Leo,” Diana said, “Maria worships the ground you walk on, and she is happy as long as you are okay.”

“And I am determined now to be okay,” Leo had said. “For Maria . . . and for you.”

Diana now brought her tea and toast over to the small kitchen table, to have it while checking her latest stock orders which she hoped would be delivered today or tomorrow. She had ordered from her usual places in Manchester which supplied the popular safe women’s lines in dresses, skirts and blouses, plus underwear and nightwear. She was particularly excited about a completely new line of clothing she had ordered as she hoped it would broaden her range of buyers. She had discovered it when she was visiting her cousin, Nigel, in Newcastle, when she and his wife Clarissa had gone shopping together.

The visits to her cousin served several purposes. First, they filled otherwise empty weekends and, secondly, one of her favourite department stores – Fenwicks – was in Newcastle. On her last visit, just after she had started seeing Leo, she and Clarissa had taken a walk around the city since it was sunny, and they had discovered a fabulous new boutique called Love. Diana thought it was an amazing place, and before she had looked at any of the clothes, she had taken time to just walk around and appreciate the bohemian furnishings. She loved the fabulous chandeliers and the gilt-framed mirrors, the deep-buttoned, green-leather sofas, velvet chaises-longues and the tall oriental vases filled with peacock feathers. It looked so exotic and decadent – and deeply feminine – that it made her want to rush home and throw out all her modern straight-edged furniture and buy replicas of every item in the shop.

Eventually, when she and Clarissa had finished mooning over the shop décor, she turned her attention to the rails of bright, ultra-modern dresses, skirts, tops and trousers.

And it had been one of her lucky Saturdays because the owner of the shop – a beautiful Irish girl called Sarah Love – was actually working in the shop on that day. Diana had discovered this fortuitous news quite by accident when she asked the assistant who they got their stock from and found out she was talking to the both the owner ofLoveand the designer of all the clothes. Sarah had been more than happy to discuss her business, and when she heard that Diana had shops around Manchester and Stockport, she told her that she supplied a couple of boutiques in Manchester City Centre. Within half an hour Diana had bought herself three outfits, a bag and several belts, scarves and necklaces. She had then ordered a considerable amount from Sarah Love’s current stock for her own shops back in Manchester.

It was only at dinner with Nigel and Clarissa that evening, when all the excitement over everything she had bought died down, that it dawned on her that she was going to have to find space to display all the new stock in La Femme and Gladrags. Reorganising the shops had taken the last few weeks and, after a lot of juggling around, she now had the perfect areas for her new lines.

As she finished her tea, she also jotted down ideas for the window display for Gladrags. She told Elaine and the other girls that they really had to get the windows just right, as she was determined to bring in younger customers and trendy older ones, who she knew would love this new range.

When she had finished breakfast, she tidied the kitchen and then went along the hallway on her way upstairs to finish drying her hair and get ready for work. It was then that she noticed the mail – a few brown and white envelopes – scattered on the mat at the front door. One of the white envelopes caught her eye, and her heart sank as she recognised the handwriting. It was Brian, trying out another tactic to get her to listen to him, since she refused to talk to him on the phone.

She checked the other items – bills and adverts – and tucked the letter in her dressing-gown pocket. She had got halfway up the stairs when the door knocker sounded and, with a sigh, she turned and came back down. It was her next-door neighbour, Mr Singleton, explaining that he and his wife were going away to their caravan in the Lake District in a few days, and wondering if Diana would be so good as to feed Minnie their Persian cat as usual. Diana took the spare key he offered her, and reassured him that she would feed Minnie at her regular time and leave milk out in the evenings until they returned. Then, she ran back upstairs to get ready so that she wasn’t late for work.

She spent the morning in the Didsbury shop, La Femme, helping Elaine and the girls out serving when needed, and when it was quiet going over ideas for the window displays and discussing better ways to organise the new smaller items like belts and scarves. In the afternoon she drove back over to Heaton Moor and went through the same process. During the break the girls all chatted about what they had been up to the previous night and, although Diana chipped in with comments about herself and Leo, she found she wasn’t inclined to give too much away. It was almost as though she might put a jinx on things by talking too much about the relationship.

Around three o’clock Leo rang the shop and asked her if she’d like to come into the restaurant about eight thirty as they had a table due to a cancellation and by then he would be free to join her. She immediately said yes, and that she would be happy if he surprised her with something from the Italian part of the menu, which Leo was delighted to hear.

She knew there was a feeling amongst women that it was best to play things cool and not agree to everything, as men like to feel they were doing the chasing but, at her age, Diana felt there was absolutely no point in pretending.

Jane Freeman called into the shop later in the afternoon, interested in any news about Diana and Leo, but more anxious to talk about Stella. She was delighted to hear that all was going well with her friend’s romance, and had an air of being instrumental in bringing them together, although Diana did subtly point out that it was in fact Maria who had been the link.

“Talking of Maria,” Jane said, lowering her voice so the other shop assistants couldn’t hear, “we were surprised to hear she has completely given up on her ballet lessons. We knew she had taken a term off to have more time for studying for her O-levels, but we presumed she would go back after the summer. Stella was quite upset about it as they’ve been going together for years.”

“Well,” Diana said, “I suppose when girls reach a certain age they decide it’s for them or not. I gave my ballet classes up when I was fourteen.” She paused. “From what Maria has said to me, she has been thinking of dropping out for a while. When she had the break from it, she realised she has outgrown it. She said she was really only mediocre in any case and openly admits that Stella is much more talented and could make a career out of it.”

Jane’s eyes widened. “Oh, yes,” she said in a weary tone, “it’s the one thing she certainly seems to be talented in and has always enjoyed, but recently she’s lost interest in talking about it and if you suggest that she needs to practise more it’s all-out war in our house. And now that Maria won’t be going to classes with her, goodness knows how it will affect Stella’s interest in it.”

“She’ll be fine,” Diana said, “and I’m sure Maria will encourage her to keep up her practice. She said the teachers are always praising Stella, and have said she has a great future in ballet.”

“I’m glad to hear all that, especially with all the money we spent converting a spare bedroom into a mini-studio for her.” Jane sighed. “And of course I do know that Maria would only have Stella’s best interests at heart. It’s Stella herself who is the problem. She’s her own worst enemy. At least she’s eating a bit better at the moment since we threatened to take her to the doctor.” She paused. “It’s that damned Tony is to blame for everything. He’s like a black shadow hanging over her life. She has never been the same since she became involved with that boy.”

“Have you ever thought,” Diana ventured, “that if you allowed Stella to see him openly, maybe it would all fizzle out? You often hear of that happening.”

“We’ve discussed it from every angle, but both Richard and I think she would just become more attached to him if she were to see him regularly and, if it didn’t fizzle out, we would find it hard to stop it then.” She sighed. “We’ve even thought of sending her abroad for a year – to one of those finishing schools in France or even Switzerland.”

“Finishing school?” Diana said. “Good Lord – do they still have them? I thought they had died out.”

“Well, it was only a thought. We don’t really want to send her away.”

“And it’s probably not a good idea when you’re so worried about her eating problems. You don’t know how she would be away from all her family and friends.”

The conversation halted as a customer came in and came over to the desk.

“Oh, if only life were simpler!” Jane said quietly. “If only Stella were simpler.”

When at last the shop door closed behind Jane Maxwell, Diana and the girls set to unpacking the boxes with the psychedelic Love label, so they would be ready for sale the following morning. Each item of clothing was unwrapped with much anticipation, then every inch of it examined and admired before it was hung carefully on the rack. By the time the shop was closed, all three assistants left with a bag each of items from the new collection, bought with a good staff discount. Diana had quickly tried on a short chiffon dress, with panels in pink and black and with long sheer black sleeves. She was slightly unsure about the length as it was shorter than she usually wore – a good four inches above her knee – but she got such an overwhelmingly positive reaction from the girls that she decided to wear it to the restaurant that night.

When she got home, she took half an hour to put her feet up and watch the evening news, then she went upstairs and ran a bath. She pinned her long red hair up to keep it dry, since she had already washed it that morning, then had a long leisurely soak. When she got out she dried herself and then spent a few minutes rubbing body lotion all over her skin, finishing off with a few drops of Chanel No 5 applied behind her ears, on her wrists and between her breasts.

As her hands moved over the different parts of her body, her mind automatically moved to Leo and she wondered if and when there would be any physical intimacy between them. She was not a naïve young girl and, although both she and Leo were Catholics, there had been a definite change in general attitudes towards sex and freedom in the last few years. Many people their age were now making their own decisions about relationships outside of marriage regardless of what the Church and other people thought. There was also a growing belief among some couples that it made more sense to find out if they were compatible physically before committing themselves to marriage. And even though she would not have previously subscribed to that sort of thinking, there were certain events in recent years that had now made Diana reconsider those values.

Diana was also very aware that Leo had been married for a number of years and had obviously been used to having regular sexual relations during that time. And, as far as she had been led to believe by Jane Maxwell, even though he had been the object of several women’s desires he had spent the years since his young wife died on his own.

Her own physical experiences were quite different, in that they were more or less non-existent. Before Brian there had been one or two close encounters – one notable one when she had stayed the weekend with friends in a country house in Cheshire – but something had always held her back. She supposed it was the old-fashioned value of waiting for the right one. She had been almost sure that Brian was that person but, as time went on their relationship just never really developed either physically or emotionally, and they were almost like a distant brother and sister. By the end, she discovered that she hardly knew him at all.

She put some hand-cream on, then went over to the hanger on the door for her dressing-gown. As she put it on she suddenly remembered the letter she had put in her pocket that morning. She took it out, then went into her bedroom and sat on the dressing-table stool to read it.

There was nothing new. All the same things he had been saying on the phone for weeks and weeks. That he still loved her, that he had learned the biggest lesson of his life being apart from her, that he wanted to marry her and have a family with her. She read on and on – it was just more and more repeats of everything he had already said. She had told him when he last phoned that she had met someone else, and had hoped that might deter him. The tone of the letter told her that it had just panicked him and made him more determined to convince her that they were right for each other. And, although she had never made it explicit, he had referred to her feeling that perhaps he had not shown his feelings for her physically enough. And of course he hadn’t.

She crumpled the letter and threw it in the wastepaper bin by her dressing-table. The thought of him making love to her now seemed ludicrous. That was something that would never ever happen whether her romance with Leo lasted or not . . . because they would never have any kind of relationship ever again.

She pushed all thoughts of her ex-fiancé out of her mind and went over to the wardrobe where her new pink-and-black dress hung. Then, as she got dressed and made-up, the more she thought of the night ahead the more excited and full of anticipation she felt about seeing Leo and sitting in his lovely restaurant listening to him tell her about his day and all his customers.

Diana parked the car just down the street from the restaurant and then carefully picked her steps over the damp cobblestones towards the door. As she got closer, she could see people sitting at the tables by the window. For a few moments she felt self-conscious walking in on her own, but she made herself lift her shoulders and take a deep breath as she pushed the door open.

Leo, standing by the cash desk, looked over to the door just as she came in. He smiled at her as though surprised to see her and came towards her to kiss her on the cheek. He helped her off with her coat and gave it to one of the waiters. He then indicated the table in the corner where they were to sit, and as she wended her way through the tables towards it, Diana had to stop herself from grinning because she knew that Leo had positioned himself purposely near the door, watching and waiting for her.

Diana sat back in the chair and smoothed the hem of her new dress down as far as it would go. Then she glanced at the perfectly set table, and smiled to herself. It wasn’t different as such from the others – the customary vase with small red roses, the tall crystal candlestick, but she knew he had picked the corner table for privacy, and had chosen the opened bottle of Chianti because she told him the last night she was in the restaurant that she liked the pretty, traditional Italian basket that it came in.

Leo came back to join her, immediately complimenting her on her dress and her hair, and then he told her that she smelled lovely. They chatted about what they had been doing during the day and he said he had called out to the stable in the morning to have a meeting with Bella Maria’s trainer, then he had called back home in the afternoon to bring his other Maria a dish of lasagne. They talked then about the advantage of owning your own business, and how you could choose how to spend your time.

“I suppose really that we mix home and work all the time,” Diana mused. “I often stay late if I’m working on something, and bring books home or go into the shops on a Sunday if I want to change things around.”

Leo had agreed, and said that the restaurant had been his saving grace after Maria’s mother died, and how he had been able to bring his daughter to work with him if necessary. He then went on to tell her that Maria was much happier since finally telling her ballet teacher that she was giving up her classes for good. Diana listened carefully and said Maria had mentioned it to her as well, and that, in her own opinion, Maria was doing the right thing. She decided not to venture Jane Maxwell’s views on it as it wasn’t going to add anything helpful to the conversation and she did not want to give Leo the impression she was a gossip. She was also being careful not to seem too interested in what Maria was doing in case it looked like she was already considering herself a part of their little family.

Things between herself and Leo – and herself and Maria – were going so much better than she could ever have hoped for, and she did not want to jeopardise that. Fate may well have intervened when she and Maria were introduced in the church, but she knew that it was common sense to tread carefully with the close relationship between father and daughter.

They had a plain melon dish to start and afterwards the waitress came with the main course.

“I hope you like the dish that Franco has cooked for us,” Leo said, smiling.

“I’m sure I will.”

“This is Pasta Carbonara with chicken and bacon,” Leo told her. “It’s a traditional dish from Rome, although there is some argument as to how old it is. Some say it goes back as far as Ancient Rome and others say it’s as recent as World War Two.” He shrugged and smiled. “Who cares how old it is as long as it tastes good?”

“It looks and smells fantastic,” Diana said, enjoying the way he gave her the history of Italian food and his obvious pride in it.

After the meal Franco himself, still dressed in his chef’s apron and hat, brought them out a dish oftiramisu, and when Diana asked what was in it he gave a brief rundown.

“So it has cream and sponge in it?” she checked. “Apart from the coffee it sounds just like a –” Franco held his hand up to stop her, laughed and said, “The worst thing you can say to an Italian is that it is like an English trifle.”

“But what if the person likes English trifle?” Diana said, laughing along with him, “and means it as a genuine compliment?”

He paused for a moment. “I would have to think about that,” he said, heading back into the kitchen.

When they finished and the waitress had cleared the dishes away, Franco, without his uniform now, came back to the table with another bottle of Chianti. Then, as the last meals had been cooked and served, he pulled out a chair and joined them in a glass of wine.

Again, Diana thought how wonderfully easy it was to slip into even the working side of Leo Conti’s life. Meeting Franco and his wife at the races, and Charlie Ford andsome of Leo’s other friends, meant that there had been no awkward introductions to be made. It also helped when they discovered that they were both Catholics, and attended the same church on Sundays. Although, so far, since she usually went to the early Mass while Leo preferred the later one, they had not gone together.

Now, listening to the two men talking about Italian food and wines, and about the different regions they came from, the thought crept into Diana’s mind that, if things worked out, perhaps she and Leo might go there for a visit. By the following summer, it would not be outside the realms of possibility that they might go together with Maria and Paul. The thought warmed her immensely, as there were so many places like Rome and Florence she always wanted to see, and she could think of no better companion and tour guide to take her around than Leo. So far, everything that she did with Leo she enjoyed more than she had ever done with anyone else or by herself. In fact, she thought, she even liked herselfmore when she was with Leo.

Later, as she laughed along with some funny joke Franco had told, she thought that no matter what happened she was grateful to be in this lovely restaurant and part of this lively, colourful group.

Leo lifted the wine bottle but as he went to pour Diana another glass she stopped him.

“I have the car,” she reminded him, “and I’ve already had two glasses so I’d better not.”

Franco immediately got to his feet. “Would you like coffee instead?”

When Maria said she would love a coffee, Leo said he would have one as well, and suggested that they could perhaps drive their own cars back to her place, and finish the wine off there. She felt her face flush as she nodded and said that it was a great idea.

They were just finishing their coffee when they heard noises in the street outside. Franco went out to check and after a few moments he stuck his head back and gestured to Leo to follow him.

Leo was on his feet quickly. “I won’t be a minute,” he told her, squeezing her arm as he passed her.

Diana, glowing from his touch, lifted her bag. “If I’m not here when you come back,” she said, “I’m only in the ladies’ room!”

A short while later, after checking her hair and touching up her make-up, Diana came back into the restaurant. The two waitresses were putting fresh tablecloths and napkins out and resetting the dining places, but there was no sign of the two men. She sat down at the table, and picked up her cup of lukewarm coffee and took a sip for something to do. Her mind was full of what might happen later. She was quite sure that nothing really physical would happen that night or even the next night they were on their own together. But she could with some certainty feel deep inside her that in the not too distant future it would all happen. In the meantime, she would enjoy every minute of all the other pleasures he had brought to her, until the right time came.

When the waitresses went through the swing doors to the kitchen carrying bundles of linen, Diana glanced towards the door to see Leo and Franco standing outside. Something about the way Franco had both his hands on either side of Leo’s head, and looked to be talking very seriously, made her suddenly anxious. Were they having some sort of row, she wondered? It seemed unlikely, given that only a few minutes ago they were laughing and chatting. And neither of them had drunk that much – little more than she had. She glanced at the second bottle of wine and it was still two-thirds full. She looked back to the door and this time Leo had turned around and Franco seemed to be examining the back of his head. The gesture was enough to make her move quickly from the table and towards the door.

“Is there anything wrong?” she said, looking at Franco.

“Ah, stupid, stupid boys teasing Timothy again.”

Diana didn’t know who Timothy was, and didn’t feel it was the right time to ask about such inconsequential details. She came around the side to look at Leo. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” he said.

“He’s not fine,” Franco said, looking at her with worried eyes. “He got a bang on the back of the head. There was a fight and Leo moved backwards and lost his balance – and hit his head on the postbox outside. He hit it badly. I heard it – it was a big thud. He needs to see a doctor.”

“I’m okay,” Leo said.

Something about his eyes worried Diana. “I agree,” she said. “I think we should get you into casualty. Stockport Infirmary should be fine, and it’s only five minutes from home.”

“I’m sure it’s all right.”

She smiled at him. “I’m sure it is, but Franco is right – it’s best to get it checked out.”

Chapter 21

As she settled down to watch Top of the Pops with a glass of lemonade and a packet of crisps, Maria felt relaxed and unusually happy. For once, everything seemed to have fallen into place in exactly the way she wanted it. Paul and she were getting on better and better, and things were wonderful with her father since he had started seeing Diana. He was always good-natured, but these last few months he seemed different, more relaxed and, in a funny way that Maria couldn’t describe, he seemed more confident. And he certainly wasn’t drinking as much or staying out late playing cards.

Today she was particularly relieved that telling her ballet teacher that she was dropping out of classes had gone much better than she had expected. The teacher had just shrugged and said she wasn’t surprised and that a lot of girls left at around fifteen and sixteen due to exam pressure and lack of time to practise. Only the most dedicated stayed on, and that’s exactly how the ballet school preferred it.

Apart from the slight inference that Maria wasn’t the material they required, she was delighted to be let off so lightly. Of course Stella hadn’t been at all happy about it, but Maria wasn’t too worried about that, as recently her friend seemed to find something to moan about every single day. If it wasn’t her mother forcing her to do things and practise her ballet when she didn’t feel like it, it was her father or her younger brothers annoying her.

Stella would just have to get over her leaving the ballet class and it might even help her to concentrate more if she didn’t have someone to gossip and giggle with during the breaks. And, they always had their horse-riding class – that’s if Stella didn’t muck it all up by going against her parents over Tony.

She curled up on the sofa, her feet tucked under her, her shoulders moving now and again in time with Union Gap singing one of her big favourites ‘Young Girl’. Love Affair came on afterwards singing ‘Rainbow Valley’ and they were just near the end when the phone rang.

She hesitated for a minute before going across to the table to pick it up. Unless it was something really, really important, none of her friends or Paul would ring her when Top of the Pops was on. The phone often rang directly after the programme, as Stella loved to discuss in great detail which groups or singers were on, whether she liked their new song and what they were wearing. As she lifted the receiver, she had decided it had to be her dad on to remind her to do something or other.

“Hello, Maria?”

“Yes?” Maria thought she recognised the voice – an older woman’s – but she couldn’t be sure.

“It’s Denise Spencer here, Paul’s mother.”

Maria’s heart quickened. “Oh, hello, Mrs Spencer.”

“Sorry for disturbing you, dear, but I had to wait until Paul was busy watching the television so he wouldn’t hear me.”

Maria caught her lip between her teeth and waited, with no idea what to expect.

“I was just wondering if your father is home tonight?”

“No, I’m sorry,” Maria told her, “he’s in the restaurant. You can always phone him there if it’s important.”

“No, no.” There was a pause. “It’s actually to do with you, Maria. I wondered if you have anything planned for the weekend of September the tenth? It’s about a month away.”

Maria quickly thought. “I don’t think so . . . but I’m not sure.”

“I thought I would ring to give you plenty of time. You see, it’s Paul’s eighteenth birthday, and we’re thinking of going down to London for a show, and Paul’s dad and I wondered if you would like to come? That’s if your father has no objections, of course.”

Maria caught her breath. London! She could hardly believe it. Not only did she definitely want to go to London – she definitely wanted to go with Paul and his family. “Oh, that sounds great!” she said, “I’d love to go!”

“Well, I’m sure Paul would love you to go too. I think he would enjoy it much more if you were there.”

Maria felt a thrill run through her. “I’ll check it with my father when he comes home tonight,” she had to take a deep breath to calm her voice as she felt so excited, “but I’m sure it will be okay.”

“Make sure you explain that you will both be very well chaperoned. We’ll be staying for two nights at my sister’s house in a nice part of London called Hampstead Heath. It’s very central and we’ll have time to see a show and go round the sights.”

“I’ll tell him all that when he comes in tonight,” Maria promised.

“Now, we’re keeping it a surprise until it’s all organised. We’ve discussed it and think we should tell Paul maybe a week before we go, so he can look forward to it, and so the two of you can chat and decide where you would like to visit, because we may need to book tickets in advance. Is that all okay, dear? I’ll ring Leo tomorrow or he can ring me – whatever suits – and check that everything is okay.”

“Thank you, Mrs Spencer, I’ll really look forward to that.”

“Good,” she said, giving a small laugh. “That’s what we want to hear.”

Then, after she put the phone in the receiver, Maria hugged herself and jumped about the room with sheer excitement. London – London – London!And with Paul for two days and nights! And his mother saying that he would enjoy it much more if I was there. How absolutely fantastic!She had to phone Stella. This was much too big to keep to herself.

She went back to the phone and dialled Stella’s number. Mr Maxwell answered and said he would get her.

Stella’s voice came on the line. “This better be good news,” she said. “I can’t believe you’re phoning me in the middle of Top of the Pops! I’m missing The Equals singing ‘Baby Come Back’ and I love it!”

Maria started to laugh. “It’s not just good news,” she said. “It’s absolutely fantastic!”

Chapter 22

Maria’s evening flew by between phone calls and TV and homework. And she was pleased with herself for spending twenty minutes talking to Paul without letting anything slip about the planned trip to London. She knew of course that it was easy not to mention it while it seemed so far away – the difficulty would be when it got closer to the time.

She went upstairs and got her English and Maths homework and then came back down to do it in front of the fire. She found concentrating on schoolwork difficult at the best of times – especially since she had started going out with Paul – but tonight it was absolutely impossible.

Her attention wandered between the television and the radio, her homework and magazines and going into the kitchen for drinks and biscuits. She was glad her father or Mrs Lowry wasn’t there to ask her what on earth she was doing, flitting around like a bee in a flowerbed.

It was after ten when the phone rang again, and Maria had actually become so engrossed in her English Comprehension questions that she didn’t take time to wonder who was calling at that time before picking up the receiver. If she had, in all probability she would have guessed that it was her father.

“Maria? It’s Diana here. I’m really sorry to ring you so late at night. I just wondered if it would be okay if I call at the house in five minutes?”

“Yes,” Maria said, alarmed. “Is there anything the matter?” It suddenly reminded her of the morning in the church with Mrs Flynn.

“Nothing very serious, but I’ve just been at Stockport lnfirmary with your dad tonight, as he got a bit of a bang on the head. He’s absolutely fine, but he has to wait to have an X-ray, and I thought you might want to be with him. I’ve just driven back to pick you up. I’m at my house now as I needed a warmer coat and I thought I’d give you a ring so I didn’t give you a shock.”

Maria felt a prickly feeling over her back and neck. “What happened?”

“Well, I was at the restaurant with your dad tonight, and there were some teenagers outside in the street teasing a man called Timothy and your dad and Franco went to sort them out.”

“Oh, my God! Did he get badly hurt?”

“No, he said he didn’t. He and Franco chased them off, but he said there was a bit of a scuffle and apparently he hit his head off a postbox.”

Maria’s hand came up to cover her mouth.

“He’s insisting he’s okay and he’s talking fine and everything, but Franco said he got a bit of a bang and he does have a headache, so we thought it was best to get him checked out.”

“He’s never sick,” Maria said in a low voice. “I can’t imagine him in hospital.”

“Don’t worry – it is only the X-ray department. I’m leaving the house now, and I’ll be with you in a couple of minutes.”

When they got to the hospital and she saw her father sitting in the X-ray waiting room, Maria was immediately reassured. He was smiling and shrugging and telling her he was fine and it was only a little headache and a fuss about nothing.

“But I don’t want you to think I am complaining about Diana and Franco insisting that I come to the hospital – quite the opposite. They were very good and just concerned for me.”

“It won’t take long to have an X-ray done and then we can go home,” Maria said, giving him a hug. “And this was all over poor Timothy again?”

Leo shrugged and nodded, and Maria saw him wince as he moved his head.

“Have you a pain?”

“A little one,” he said, “and I’m just slightly dizzy . . .”

“Will I get someone?” Diana asked.

“No, no, I’m fine.” He looked at Maria. “I hope Franco called the police. We can’t have this happening with Timothy again. They’re only boys, but they’re frightening him and causing noise around the restaurant. I don’t want to be selfish but, apart from upsetting Timothy, they might drive our customers away.”

“Did they attack you and Franco?”

Leo raised his hands. “Ah, it was nothing but a scuffle. More dancing around than fighting. Nothing to worry us, but it might be best if the police speak to them and to their parents. That will probably be enough to frighten them off – to put a stop to them annoying poor Timothy.” He shrugged and looked over at Diana. “He’s a harmless man, he wouldn’t harm a fly. He spends his life looking after his mother and sister, and the only outings he gets are to the shops or the occasional night in the pub at the bottom of the road. They taunt him because he is different and call him a nancy-boy and a queer and awful words like that.”

Diana throat tightened as she imagined the scene. And then her heart warmed even more to Leo, thinking how kind and selfless he was defending someone like that. “And you say this has happened before?”

Maria nodded. “It happened that night after we were at the racecourse. The night Franco had the cut on his hand.”

“I didn’t realise there was a problem that night,” Diana said, sounding surprised. “It was my first time in Leonardo’s and everything seemed lovely.”

“It was only a scratch, a graze,” her father said. “Franco forgot it very quickly.”

Diana knew he was playing the incident down so as not to worry them.

“But it’s terrible,” Maria said. “And we can’t let it happen again. If Franco has not gone to the police already then I’m going to tell him that he absolutely should go tomorrow.”

“Okay, okay,” Leo said. He looked over at Diana and smiled. “I’m so sorry your evening was spoiled.”

She smiled back at him. “It doesn’t matter, we can do it again.”

“That’s what I was hoping.”

A woman came into the waiting room with a little boy with his arm in a sling, and then a man came in supporting a limping teenage boy who was wearing a football strip. The man started chatting to Leo, telling him how his son had been viciously tackled by one of the opposition team and had gone over on his ankle.

While he was occupied, Diana turned to Maria. “He definitely seems better now,” she said. “But I think it’s still worth checking it out. He could have mild concussion or something like that.”

“I agree,” Maria said.

She turned then as she heard footsteps coming along the corridor and then a nurse came around the corner and called her father’s name.

He got to his feet, slightly unsteadily, and Diana and Maria rose, ready to help him if necessary.

“We’ll be about twenty minutes,” the nurse said.

“Sorry, girls,” Leo said, giving a weak smile. “I know it’s not the most exciting way to spend your evening.”

“You even made me miss finishing my homework,” Maria joked, “but I suppose I’ll have to forgive you since you have a reasonably good excuse.”

They all laughed and then the nurse and Leo went walking down the corridor in the direction of the X-ray department.

“He’s never sick,” Maria said. “It feels strange being in a hospital with him.” Her eyes narrowed in thought. “I think the last time I was in a hospital with him was the night that my mother died.”

Diana put her arm around her. “It must be hard for you being here and remembering that,” she said softly. “But you don’t need to worry – this is just a routine check that they do on everyone. Your father will be okay.”

Maria thought how nice and kind Diana was. As soon as she mentioned her mother, she felt that it might have made Diana feel awkward, but she could not detect even the slightest feeling of that being the case, and it made her warm to her even more.

The door opened, causing a sudden draught, and a porter came in to talk to the receptionist. Maria gave a small shiver.

“You’re cold,” Diana said, rubbing her shoulder. “There’s a small café across in the main block. We might as well go and have a cup of tea while we’re waiting.”

As they walked along Maria wondered if Paul had rung the house while she was out. They were supposed to be going to the cinema the following night, and hopefully the date would still be on as long as they didn’t keep her father in the hospital for a couple of days or anything like that. She then caught herself, realising how selfish she would sound if she said that to anyone.

The café at this hour was quiet. Only a few tables had customers and Maria could see that most of them were nurses on their breaks. Over in a corner there was a table with five young men in white coats – one with a telltale stethoscope around his neck – who had to be doctors who had finished their evening rounds.

While Diana went to get them hot chocolates, Maria went over the evening in her mind, wondering how things could change so quickly because of one phone call. She had been almost delirious with happiness after Paul’s mother had rung and now, a few hours later, she felt the opposite. She knew of course that her father would be fine. He was a fit healthy man, and a small knock on the head wouldn’t do him any great harm, but the incident itself had shaken her and made her wonder at the way things happened.

She looked over at the counter where Diana was standing, and thought about the changes their chance meeting had brought into their lives. How different her father was since meeting this lovely woman, and how silly she had been when Stella had first lightly mentioned that it might be a good thing if her father met someone. She realised now that since her mother had died there had been a real gap in her father’s life – a much bigger gap than she could ever have imagined. And that her stubbornness and selfishness had almost lost him the chance of the happiness she could see he now had with Diana. If it hadn’t been for Mrs Flynn taking ill in the church, Maria knew in her heart she would probably not have even looked at Diana at the races that day, and would certainly not have got into conversation with her for fear it might have encouraged things.

And as she watched the attractive, friendly woman now putting the mugs on a tray for them, she thought how much less her own life would be without her in it. Without being intrusive or over-involved, Diana had been a great support to her, someone who had her best interests at heart. And, Maria thought, it was very separate and different from her friendships with Stella and the girls at school and did not intrude in any way. And the link between Stella’s mother and Diana actually helped things, as she could share her ups and downs with Stella and the situation with Tony without feeling judged. And Maria was grateful that Diana only ever mentioned Paul if Maria herself brought the subject up.

She was of course desperate to tell her about the proposed trip to London, as talking about it would make it more real. But she felt that the hospital café, when they were waiting on news of her father, was not the place to discuss something so frivolous. As soon as her father got the okay, they would all head home, and it might be something nice to cheer them all up on the journey back.

Diana put the tray on the table now. She put Maria’s hot chocolate in front of her along with a cellophane-wrapped packet of two chocolate biscuits. “I thought these might help keep you going in case you’re feeling a bit tired.”

Maria thanked her, then Diana looked at her watch.

“It’s after eleven now,” she said.

“Is it?” Maria hadn’t given the time a thought. They sat in silence for a few minutes, sipping the hot drinks, then she looked up at Diana. “He will be okay, won’t he?”

Diana touched her hand. “I’m sure he will. It’s just routine.”

Ten minutes later they walked back to the X-ray department, and were both relieved to see Leo sitting there chatting to a nurse.

“I’m just out,” he told them, “and I think everything is fine.”

Maria’s heart lifted and she realised she had been more worried than she thought.

“I was just talking to your dad,” the nurse said, “and we think it might be best to keep him here overnight for observation. The X-ray wasn’t clear, so we don’t have any accurate results yet.”

Leo looked at them and smiled. “I’m really fine. I don’t need to stay.”

“It’s your own decision,” the nurse said, “but we’d feel happier if the headache was settled.”

“Maybe you should think about staying overnight, Leo,” Diana suggested. “Just to make sure.”

“I’d rather be home . . .” He stood up, and then he suddenly swayed. He put his hand out to the wall to steady himself.

Maria’s heart lurched. “Dad!!”

The nurse, Maria and Diana all rushed to catch him and help him back into the chair.

“That’s it, Dad,” Maria said. “You need to stay in. You’re still not a hundred per cent.”

“It’s just the dizziness,” Leo said. “It just came back when I stood up.”

“You’re okay, Leo,” the nurse said. “It might be a touch of concussion, and it’s best if we keep an eye on you.”

“Okay, Dad?” Maria said, placing her hand gently on his shoulder. “You’ll be fine.”

Leo nodded and then he slowly leaned forward in the chair, closed his eyes and vomited all over the floor in front of him.

“Oh, Dad!” Maria exclaimed. “Are you all right?

“Just hold him there,” the nurse said, rushing over to the desk to the phone.

Maria’s heart was racing. This wasn’t right. “Don’t move now, Dad,” she told him. She went to stroke his head and then she remembered and stopped. “Just wait until the nurse comes back. I think they will probably be happier if they get you in bed for a while to let it all settle down.” She remembered an accident in school where one of the girls banged her head during a gym class, after falling awkwardly off the vaulting horse. As soon as she got sick, the teachers rang for an emergency ambulance. It was, as the nurse had said might be the case with her father, concussion. Thankfully the girl was fine and back in school in a day or two.

Diana moved to sit at the other side of him. “Maria’s right,” she said, “it wouldn’t do you any good to travel home tonight. You’ll feel much better in the morning.”

“I apologise for being sick,” Leo said. “I’m very, very sorry.”

“We’ve all been sick, Leo, one time or another,” Diana said, kissing him on the forehead. “But it’s nice you’re such a gentleman.”

The nurse finished on the phone then she came back over to them carrying paper towels, an ordinary towel and a theatre gown.

She threw the paper towels over the puddle of sick and put the gown around Leo’s shoulders, then she held the towel to his mouth. “You’ll be okay,” she told him. “It’s quite common after a head injury.”

“I’m sorry . . .” Leo tried to lift his head but couldn’t.

The doors from the main waiting-room suddenly flew open and a trolley was pushed in, and within minutes Leo was up on it and being wheeled out, back to the treatment room.

The next couple of hours passed in a haze as Maria and Diana waited for news. Then they were brought through to the casualty ward to see Leo settled in bed. He looked paler than before and was very tired.

“I’m sorry to be such a nuisance,” he said, “but I think the bang was a little more severe than I imagined.” He smiled. “I hope I didn’t do the postbox too much damage, but I have a feeling I came off a little worse.”

“You should sleep now, Leo,” Diana said. “It will do you good.”

“I do feel like sleeping but the doctor has told me to wait a little longer as they are waiting on some results of tests.”

Diana’s throat tightened. “Well, you must do exactly as the doctors tell you.”

Then he put his hand out and took Diana’s and squeezed it. He then held his other hand out to Maria. “Two lovely ladies,” he said, “who have both been looking after me so well.”

Maria lifted his hand up to her cheek. “You always look after me.”

“Tonight I will have to stay here,” he said, “but I would feel happier if I knew that you were both together, looking after each other.”

“Maria can stay with me tonight,” Diana said. “The spare room bed is all made up.”

Then, a nurse came in and said it might be best if they let him rest. Diana and Maria kissed him and said they would see him soon.

Leo smiled and raised his hand as they walked away.

Chapter 23

It was five in the morning when the house phone rang.

On hearing it, Maria’s heart started pounding. She sat bolt upright in bed then she checked the time on the clock on the bedside cabinet. She listened as Diana’s footsteps went quickly down the stairs, but she could only hear the murmur of her voice as she spoke and nothing of the conversation. Then, all the dreadful possibilities racing through her mind, she climbed out of bed – wearing the green satin pyjamas that Diana had lent her last night – and went to the top of the stairs.

Diana was coming up towards her, her face white and expressionless. “It was the hospital . . . they want us to go in.”

Maria felt the same strange calm descending on her that sometimes came when she was worrying about her father late at night. The calm that helped her through her worst times.

She turned back towards the bedroom. “I’ll get ready.”

“The roads will be empty at this time of the morning,” Diana said. “So we can go quickly.”

Maria did not answer. She went back into the bedroom to pull on the same clothes she had worn last night.

They hardly spoke on the drive in. When they arrived at the hospital public car park there were only two other cars.

As they went towards the main door, Diana said, “The nurse I spoke to said to go straight to Reception and they will take us up to the ward.”

Maria slowed to a halt. Now they were so close she needed to prepare herself. “What did they tell you?”

Diana looked straight ahead. “That he is in a . . . a deep sleep . . . and they are concerned.”

“But that could be a good thing. He might feel a lot better when he wakes up.”

“Yes,” Diana was nodding her head slowly. “Hopefully he might feel better.”

There was a nurse waiting for them in Reception and Maria saw Diana’s face tighten when she asked them to follow her into a consultation room where the doctor would speak to them. As they walked along, Diana reached back and took her hand in hers and held it tightly. They went down a corridor and when the nurse showed them into the room, there were two doctors already sitting at a table waiting to see them.

The doctors stood up and shook Diana’s hand and then Maria’s, and it crossed her mind that they probably thought Diana was her mother. They all sat down and there was a silence for a few moments and then Maria heard one of the doctors saying he was very sorry, but that they had done everything they could.

Diana gasped and said in a whisper. “What exactly are you saying?”

Maria felt a rushing in her head and ears and couldn’t quite make out what anyone in the room was saying. She shook her head to make herself concentrate and then she heard one of the doctors explain there had been a problem with bleeding immediately after banging his head. That was when she realised they had made a mistake and weren’t talking about her father at all.

“But he wasn’t bleeding,” she said, looking from one to the other. She noticed that both doctors looked away when their eyes met her. “We checked, and there was no sign of any bleeding.”

“I’m so sorry,” the doctor said, “but it was internal bleeding between the skull and the covering of the brain . . . by the time he was checked it was too late. He went into a coma, and I’m afraid he passed away just before you came in.”

Diana gripped her arm tightly and Maria heard her say in a strangled voice, “Oh, no!”

As Diana dissolved into devastated sobs, Maria felt the strange calm coming over her again. And she suddenly remembered feeling exactly the same way when her mother died –as though she had a shell around her that she carried everywhere she went. Back then, she at least had her father, who she knew would love and look after her. As he had done in all the years since. But that love and care, she now knew and understood, would be no more.

Chapter 24

From the moment they had left the hospital, Maria became Diana’s main priority. She knew she had to put her own feelings aside and do everything that was necessary. After her initial devastated reaction, she had kept herself resolutely on autopilot as the doctors and nurses took charge, taking them down to the side-room where Leo would be kept until the post-mortem procedure. They explained what would happen next and took details such as Leo’s religion, and then advised Diana and Maria who to contact regarding funeral arrangements.

They left the hospital and drove back to the Contis’ house and, while Maria was in the bathroom, Diana phoned Franco to tell him the tragic news and then spent five minutes crying on the phone with him and trying to comfort him. Mrs Lowry was next on the list, and Diana found herself crying on the phone along with the housekeeper too. In between the tears, she had arranged that Mrs Lowry would come down to the house and stay there all day with Maria, as Diana said that she thought the girl needed to sleep.

When she came off the phone from Mrs Lowry, Diana went up and tapped on the bathroom door to check that Maria was okay. When Maria confirmed that she was, she asked her if it was okay if she rang Jane Maxwell to let them know, or if she would prefer to ring Stella herself.

After a few moments Maria said she would be grateful if she rang for her.

Jane was in shock with the news, as was Stella when her mother called her downstairs. Diana had been glad that Maria hadn’t phoned her friend as she could hear her crying hysterically in the background. She had forgotten how highly strung Stella was and, having recently got used to Maria’s quiet ways, she somehow thought all teenagers were as calm and sensible as her.

In the midst of her shock, Jane would still have liked a full, blow-by-blow account of the evening and the night in hospital leading up to Leo’s death, but Diana told her in a stiff voice that she was not up to going over it all again. She said she would know more details about the funeral when they had spoken to the priest, then she got off the phone as quickly as she could.

She went back up to the bathroom and knocked on the door again and called to Maria to tell her who she had rung. When there was no answer, she asked her to please come out as soon as she was ready because she was worrying her.

Things,Dianathought at that point, were just as bad as they could be, and Maria withdrawing into herself would not make the situation any better, and might well make it intolerable. But of course, she could not say that, and she had to be patient and handle things as well as she possibly could. She walked back downstairs and sat on the sofa, staring out of the window into the small cul-de-sac, just waiting, and not allowing herself for one minute to consider her own loss.

Eventually, she heard the lock on the bathroom opening and she jumped to her feet and went out into the hallway and stood at the bottom of the stairs. “Maria?” she called.

When there was no answer Diana made her way up the stairs and found Maria in a crumpled heap on the landing, her body trembling with silent sobs. Diana gathered the girl in her arms and held her tightly and they cried together, their sadness echoing throughout the house.

Eventually, Maria put words to her misery. “Why,” she asked, “did we not stay with him? Why did he have to die alone?”

Diana struggled to find answers to the questions that she had been rattling around in her own head. “He wasn’t alone,” she said softly. “The doctors and nurses were with him. And from what the doctor said, he fell asleep quite quickly after we left the hospital and never really woke up.”

“But I should have been there! He should have known that someone who knew him and loved him was there!”

Diana stroked her hair. “Just remember the last time we saw him. Your father was happy and smiling. Do you remember what he said?”

Maria said nothing for a few moments then she nodded her head.

“He told us to look after each other, “Diana had said. “And we said we would, and knowing that made him happy.”

“Yes,” Maria said, wiping the back of her hand over her face, “I do remember that. Thank God I have that to remember. It makes me feel a tiny bit better knowing that he was happy.” Then she halted again. “Will you help me, Diana?”

Diana looked at her, not quite sure what she meant. “Of course, I’ll help you any way I can.”

“I mean, will you help me with the . . .” She couldn’t say the word ‘funeral’. “Will you help me with all the arrangements? I know Dad has lots of other friends and we’ve only known you a few months, but because you were here a lot with Dad I feel you understand me better in ways.”

Diana felt a lump forming in her throat. “Maria, I’ll help you with anything I can.” Then, afraid that she was going to break down again, she loosened her arms from around the girl. “Let me get a towel for you.”

She got to her feet and went into the bathroom to the shelf where there was a tidy pile of half a dozen hand towels. She lifted two from the pile and wiped her own face with one and then went back to the hallway where Maria was now sitting upright with her back against the wall. She took the proffered towel and held it to her face, and for a moment Diana thought she was going to start sobbing all over again. Instead, she rubbed the soft material over her red, puffy face and then took a deep breath and sat back again.

“So this is it?” she said, shrugging. “This is it now. I’ll never see my father again. I’ll never see his face or hear his voice, ever, ever again.”

“Don’t think like that,” Diana had said, although the words had struck her to the bone.

“But it’s true. It’s going to be exactly the same as it was when my mother died. It will be as if he never existed at all – just a huge empty space.” She struggled now to get to her feet, straightening her clothes as she did so. “It’s true what people say – death is final. There’s nothing of that person – apart from photographs or clothes or music – ever again.”

“You have all the wonderful memories of your father,” Diana said. “And I know in the coming weeks and months that he will help you to cope through those memories.”

Then, a car drew up at the gate and a minute or two later a knock came on the door and Diana had to go downstairs and let a distraught Mrs Lowry in.

Eventually, after Franco and Bernice arrived, there came a point where there were enough people in the house to care for Maria without Diana feeling she was deserting her if she left for a while. Somehow, after only a few months of knowing this lovely young girl, she seemed to have found herself responsible for her.

Chapter 25

It was midday before Diana arrived back home, closed the door, and allowed herself to think about all that she herself had lost.

With caring for Maria and dealing with the immediate practical details following Leo’s death, there had not been the space or the time to think exactly how losing him was going to impact on her life. And there had been the feeling at the back of her mind that, after knowing him for such a short time, she did not have the entitlement to be as upset as those who had known him longer. And even the list of names that Bernice had mentioned who would need to be notified – customers, business acquaintances and the Manchester Italian community – it was obvious that there had been many other people who had liked and loved Leo Conti.

The house, though ordered, felt cold and cheerless so she went into the kitchen and switched on the central heating to warm it up and then she headed for the stairs to go and have a shower. It was only when she caught sight of herself in the gilt hall mirror that she suddenly stopped in her tracks. Overnight, her face seemed to have aged by years. She continued to stare at her reflection for a few minutes until her eyes glazed over and she could hardly see herself, then she continued upstairs to her bedroom.

And it was when she looked at the bed she had made up the previous evening with the new navy and cream Habitatbed cover that her own loss of Leo finally hit her. The bed signifying the stage that she and Leo had carefully reached in their relationship, and where, she knew, they would soon have lain together.

She thought back to the dreams and plans she had built around their relationship – the dreams she had not allowed herself to have with any other man for years. And now, it had all fallen apart. It was never to be.

The tears that overwhelmed her were a mixture of sadness and anger. The sadness was for Leo – a fine man cut down at a time in life when he should have been enjoying himself and reaping the rewards of all the hard work in the restaurant. And there was great sadness for Maria who was now left without either parent, and at that delicate, confusing time when she was neither a child nor yet a woman. And Diana could already feel the heartfelt sadness from all the friends and people who had known and loved Leo for his kindness and generosity.

But underneath it all, Diana was struggling even harder with the bitterness and anger she felt against life – against fate.

Once again, her hopes and dreams had been shattered, but this time it was much worse than it had been with Brian. Her romance with Leo had been following an easy and natural course, and there had been nothing to suggest it would not continue. They had talked easily and both had been open with each other about their pasts. Leo had told her that meeting her was the best thing to happen him since his wife had died, and that he had never imagined himself in a relationship again where he would feel so relaxed and able to talk about things. And he had confided in her about his gambling and drinking, explaining that he could now see he had been using them to fill a huge gap in his life – a gap that Diana had slipped so easily and naturally into.

Diana had not been naïve about the situation – she knew that Leo had a lot of work to do to sort out his finances and to break the habit of late-night drinking and card games, but she had somehow known deep inside her that all that would have been be resolved now that he had found other things to replace them. Now they had found each other.

She felt that his difficulties and his trusting of her had made their relationship more real – more human – and it was because of those reasons that she was finally able to open up to him about Brian. She was able to tell him the truth about their long-standing – but going-nowhere – relationship, and the truth about their break-up – something she had never imagined sharing with anyone – friend or lover.

The relief she had felt after sharing that particular burden was more than she could ever have envisaged. And that, coupled with all his other attributes, had led her to imagine that she could build a future with Leo Conti.

But it was not going to happen because he had been kind and stood up for a man who many people ostracised because he was effeminate and different. Leo had not been sure whether Timothy had even been a practising homosexual, but he chose not to judge him whatever the case. And he had stood up for Timothy on not one but several occasions, because he believed in right and wrong and had the courage to live out his convictions.

Brian, Diana knew to her cost, had done the complete opposite. He had lived a lie and had sucked her into his world for too many years. And yet he was still willing to lead a life built on hypocrisy. The recent letter she had received only yesterday from him contained numerous declarations of love and another marriage proposal. He described a big, rambling house he had seen in Wilmslow that would suit them if she would agree to a wedding, and the landscaped garden that was perfect for the two or three children they could easily have before it was too late. It was all down to her, he wrote. The ball was in her court. She only had to say the word and he would put the plans in action.

She noted that there was not a single mention of the reason they had split up. Nothing about the young man who had rung his apartment to ask for directions to the hotel they were meeting in that night. Nothing about the horrendous, sexually explicit male magazines she had found when she searched his desk for clues. And after she had confronted him with all the evidence about his homosexuality, and after he had admitted that he had been leading a double life, he still expected her to trust him again and even marry him and have his children.

How ridiculous, she thought, when Brian had obviously not felt any inclination or desire for her during all the years they were together. If he felt that he now could change and feel physical attraction for her after all this time, then that was most unfortunate, because she certainly did not feel the same about him.

If she had the slightest regard left for him, she might have asked out of curiosity if she was the only female he had ever had any interest in. Something told her that she should not flatter herself and that Brian would always have looked for a ‘normal’ relationship to cover up the truth. But, she may well have been one of the few women that he had been able to fool for all those years.

It had crossed her mind on more than one occasion that Brian would never be honest about his sexual inclinations because he himself could not face what he was – and he probably knew his family and friends could not support it. In a different situation, she might have had sympathy for someone in his position, knowing how difficult it must be to be open and honest when facing a wall of prejudice. And even though it had been legalised recently, it was a long way off from being socially acceptable. But even taking all these things into account, she could never forgive him for making her part of his deception.

She felt utterly exhausted. A couple of hours’ sleep was necessary if she was to continue to function and be a support for Maria. She sat on the bed for a few minutes, deciding whether to shower now or go to bed for a couple of hours and have it later. Then she wondered at herself thinking such an ordinary thought, as though she had not just lost the man who had made her whole life complete. How was she to cope with this? How was she supposed to go back and live again as a thirty-odd-year-old spinster?

How was she to act as though Leo Conti had never existed?

Chapter 26

For Maria, the house was becoming less and less familiar by the hour. The space and the quiet she was used to were gone, the daily routine she was used to was gone, and most of all – her father was gone. A strange house she hardly recognised was left in place of the warm home she had been used to.

The only spaces that remained more or less the same were her bedroom that no-one else came into, and her father’s bedroom. So far, she had only pushed the door open to look in. It was spotlessly tidy as always. Leo was an organised man who had automatically hung things up in the wardrobe after he wore them, put his shoes on the rack and put laundry in the basket for Mrs Lowry. Stepping over the threshold and walking around her father’s room and seeing his alarm clock and his rosary beads, and the polished wooden box where he kept his cufflinks and tiepins, was not something that she was ready for yet.

Everything in her life was upside down and her moods veered from being in an almost trance-like calm – which even she herself knew was not normal – to the periods of total clarity when she realised exactly what had happened. During the clearer periods she was apt to suddenly break down into hysterical sobbing.

It was after one such emotional episode that Father O’Donnell and the elderly Father Quinn arrived at the house. Mrs Lowry showed them into the dining room as it was more private than the sitting room where some of the immediate neighbours were. Maria, now more composed, came downstairs with Bernice to speak to them.

Father O’Donnell stood up and, coming forward with outstretched hands, took both of hers.

“Ah, Maria,” he said, “this is a sad time for us all. Leo has gone to meet his maker much much sooner than we would have thought or would have liked.”

Father Quinn stayed sitting, but he nodded his head in agreement. As Maria looked at him, she suddenly thought he looked very old – surely beyond retirement age – and the vague look on his face made Maria wonder if he even knew who she was.

“Leo was a good and decent man,” Father O’Donnell used the same formal voice he used on the pulpit on Sundays, only softer, “and we have no doubt but that he is already enjoying the treasures stored up for him in heaven.” He then stepped back, his hands held behind his back.

There was silence for a few moments, then Maria realised he was waiting for her to say something, so she murmured, “Thank you, Father.”

Maria did not look directly at him because she knew he was uncomfortable but trying to cover it up. She felt almost sorry for the priest. She thought it must be an awful depressing sort of job where you have to go around to people’s houses on a regular basis, to talk to them about the person who had died and then about the funerals. The parish was big with lots of elderly people, so she imagined he might have to do this every other week.

“Now, my dear . . . I hope you are feeling well enough,” Father O’Donnell said, not looking directly at her, “because I am afraid we will soon have to think about the funeral details.”

Maria’s stomach churned. She was still thinking of her father as being in hospital. “When will that be?”

When Father O’Donnell raised his eyebrows, and held his head to the side, she realised she had spoken in a whisper. She repeated it again in a louder and clearer tone. “When will it be?”

“Well, that depends on when he is released from hospital . . . and whether we will have to wait for any relatives coming from abroad.”

Maria looked at the floor. “I don’t know anything about that yet.”

“Someone will need to call the undertaker’s. There are two particular firms that the Italian community tend to use. They have their own traditions about these things.”

Bernice moved forward to put her arm around Maria. “Don’t worry,” she said. “Franco and some of your father’s friends will help with all of this. He will know what’s to be done.”

“You will have to give them any paperwork,” the priest advised. “Insurance policies and documents of that nature. Does your father have a filing cabinet or anything like that?”

“Yes,” Maria said, “he has one in the spare room where all his work things are.” She shrugged. “But I don’t know anything about them.”

“Franco will sort it all out,” Bernice said.

Maria looked at her and said, “Thank you.”

Bernice turned to the priests now. “We have tea and coffee and sandwiches, if you would like to come into the room across the hallway.”

When Maria followed her into the sitting room, she was a little overwhelmed by the number of people there, and thought it did not seem like her own home any more. Since the news of Leo’s death began to spread, downstairs had been constantly occupied, which felt strange since she had become used to spending most evenings there on her own when her father was working.

The sofa, armchairs and dining-chairs were lined up in a regimental fashion around the perimeter of the room to allow more people to be seated, and the teak kitchen table had been carried through into the sitting room and placed against the back wall to accommodate food and drink for visiting mourners.

Maria had been relieved when Diana and Franco’s wife, Bernice, said they would stay in the house to be with her at all times, sleeping in the spare bedroom which had twin beds. They kept busy, and seemed to be constantly moving between the kitchen and sitting room. Mrs Lowry stayed for most of the day, only going home to feed her family. Franco was also a fixture in the house but would go home that night to be with his three children, who were being looked after by good, dependable neighbours. Still in shock, he was uncharacteristically quiet – a ghost of himself.

Maria did not know how to react when Franco told her he had closed Leonardo’s, and had put a sign up to let customers know about the tragedy.

“When will it open again?” she asked.

Franco stared at her for a few minutes and then he shrugged. “I don’t know . . . it is something that needs to be talked about.”

She stared at him now. “Who will talk about it?” she asked. “You’re the only one who knows everything about the restaurant and how it’s run. Who else is there?”

He turned his head to the side, now avoiding her eyes. “I don’t know, Maria. I can’t think about it now. I can’t imagine being in it without Leo. There are a lot of things to think about the restaurant . . . but not now.” He shrugged. “There are too many other things for me and you to think about.”

“Will you help with the funeral arrangements?” she said. “I don’t know anything about that either.”

He turned back to her now, a sad smile on his face. “Of course. It will be a privilege. I loved Leo – he was like my brother.”

Tears welled up in her eyes. “How can we manage, Franco? How can we do things without my father?”

He answered her honestly. “I don’t know, Maria . . . I don’t know.”

She had never seen Franco look and sound helpless before – he had always been laughing and joking with everyone. A cold fear gripped her now as it dawned on her that Franco had depended on her father almost in the same way that she had. He had been in total control of everything – both at home and in Leonardo’s. But he had handled things in such a light and easy way that it seemed as though everyone else had shared in the responsibility, and making the decisions too.

What, she wondered now, was going to become of the restaurant and the house without her father. What was going to become of her?

Diana arrived back at the St Aiden’s Avenue to find the house full of people. She joined Bernice and Mrs Lowry in the kitchen and they passed their time making tea and sandwiches, washing and drying cups and saucers, and brushing and mopping the kitchen floor. Although they chatted in quiet voices amongst themselves, they seemed to be listening all the time and automatically moved the minute they heard a car coming up the street or if anyone knocked on the door.

Maria found their presence reassuring, but every so often she found herself watching Diana who was quietly talking to people and doing all she could to help, but who Maria thought was not quite herself. But then, she reasoned, how could she be? Nobody was really themselves after what had happened.

Mrs Lowry was certainly distraught when she first learned about Leo but, after she had got over her initial shock and had cried for a while, she had just said, “When you get to my age, Maria, you learn to accept that life is going to knock you. And it’s usually when things have been going well for a while and you become complacent that it catches you unawares.” Then she had patted Maria’s hand. “It’s an old saying, but it’s the truth – time is a great healer. You’re a young girl, Maria, and a strong girl and you’ll survive this. Better things will come your way.”

“But I don’t want anything different,” Maria said, tears beginning to choke her. She had another cry and so did Mrs Lowry.

Then, the housekeeper took her in her arms. “You’ll be all right, Maria. Your father had good friends, and we’ll all make sure that you are well looked after until you’re old enough to do for yourself.”

Her words, meant to comfort Maria, instead left her anxious and wondering what the future held. Lots of questions rattled around in her head – could she still live in the house on her own? What was going to happen to the restaurant? What about Bella Maria? What about her and Paul? How would she get to her riding lessons without her father?

Her father was the one person who would have had answers to everything.

After their chat, Mrs Lowry went off to the kitchen to find cleaning materials for the downstairs toilet as she wanted to give it a quick going-over and, after that, she told Maria, if anyone was looking for her, she would be upstairs tidying up the bathroom.

“Poor Mrs Lowry,” Bernice said. “She’s heartbroken, but she’s the old sort who copes by keeping busy.”

At one point in the late afternoon the phone rang and Maria asked Bernice to answer it. Bernice listened for a while and spoke only a few times. When she came off, she went into the kitchen and spoke to Diana, and then the two women asked Maria if she would come up to her bedroom with them where they could talk in private. As she followed them up the stairs she felt as though there was a heavy weight in her chest because she knew she would hear something she did not want to hear.

“We’ve had a call from the hospital, Maria,” Diana said, “and they asked us to tell you that they have been doing some tests on Leo today and will let us know when they are able to release him. It could be sometime this evening. He’ll be taken to the undertaker’s first of course”

Maria swallowed hard and tried not to imagine what that meant. All day she had been afraid that someone would tell her that the hearse was at the gate, and that she would have to face seeing him lying in a coffin. And yet, another part felt she desperately needed to know that he was back in their house, because something at the back of her mind told her that it would make life more familiar again.

“Is that normal?” she asked quietly. “Does that happen to everyone?”

Diana lowered her eyes. “Yes,” she said, “I would think that it’s very common.”

Maria looked from one to the other. “What will happen tonight then?”

“I think it will be just the same as today,” Bernice said, “with people coming and going and paying their respects to you.”

Maria pictured how the rest of the afternoon would be and then the evening stretching ahead. Having to speak to more and more people she did not know, and sense the awkward, self-conscious way certain ones felt when they had to offer her their condolences. The worst part was listening to them all saying how they could not believe what had happened, and then overhearing them talking in low voices to Mrs Lowry or Bernice about the accident and pressing them for the exact details.

“How long will it be until . . .” She could not finish. She could not say the words until the funeral.

A flicker of alarm crossed Diana’s face, as though she had been trying not to think of it herself, and she turned to Bernice.

“We don’t know exactly when,” Bernice said. “Franco is trying to contact your father’s relatives in Italy. They will have to organise flights if they are coming over.”

“But my grandparents are very old,” Maria said. “They won’t be able to come. They wouldn’t be fit enough for the journey.” She paused to think. “My Aunt Sophia stays at home looking after my grandparents, and my uncles – his two brothers – are in America. I don’t think they have been there that long, so they probably wouldn’t be able to come either.”

Bernice nodded. “I’ll speak to Franco.”

Footsteps sounded on the stairs and they all stopped talking.

Bernice went to the bedroom door and looked out to see who was there. “Here he is now.”

He told them he had come looking for some addresses and some documents. Bernice explained to him what Maria had told them about her grandparents and relatives in Italy.

He listened carefully and then he looked at Maria. “I understand what you’re saying, but I think we must let all your father’s family know, because someone will probably want to come – maybe a cousin or an uncle or someone like that. I know that some of his family came to Manchester before. Not recently, a few years ago.”

Maria thought of all the people she saw when she went to Italy each year and could not imagine any of them travelling over to Manchester.

“If anyone does come,” Bernice said, “you don’t need to worry about them staying here. They can stay at our house or with some of your father’s Italian friends.”

“I have to ask you something else,” Franco said.

His face was so grave Maria thought she hardly recognised him.

“I know you and your father have not seen your Irish relatives for a long time . . . but maybe we should contact them too.”

Maria shook her head. This was the last thing she expected him to say. “No, no. I don’t want them here. They wouldn’t come anyway. They hated my father!” Her voice was becoming higher now, almost hysterical. “No one from Ireland has been here since my mother died and I don’t want them coming here now that he’s died too!”

“I don’t want to argue with you, Maria,” Franco said, “but your father told me that when you were older he wanted you to get to know some of your Irish family. He said –”

“If they didn’t want to see him, then I don’t want to see them!”

“That’s okay,” Diana said. “That’s okay. You don’t have to see anyone you don’t want to.”

Maria started to cry and put her hands up over her face, repeating, “I don’t want them here – I don’t want them here!” Then she went across the room, threw herself down on the bed and broke down into great heaving sobs that she could not control.

Seeing her so upset was the last straw for Franco and he had to leave the bedroom and go out into the hall, his shoulders heaving and huge silent tears running down his face. When Bernice followed her husband, Diana went over to the bed to try to console Maria or at least to check that she was not becoming so distraught that she was going to make herself sick. She sat quietly on the side of the bed, stroking Maria’s hair, while she just kept crying and crying until she started to cough and choke.

“Bernice!” Diana called. “Would you bring Maria some water, please?” Then she turned back to Maria. “Don’t let it overwhelm you – your father wouldn’t want you to make yourself ill. He loved and adored you, and he would be so upset to see you like this.”

Maria made a little muffled noise as though she was trying to speak but Diana could not make out what she was saying.

“We’re all so sad, Maria,” Diana said, trying not to break down herself, “and you’re entitled to be sadder than anyone, because you were the most important person to him in the whole world. You were all that really mattered to him.”

Maria suddenly went still and then the sobbing began to subside. Eventually she moved out of Diana’s arms, wiped the back of her hands over her eyes and sat up. Then she looked up at Diana with her red and swollen eyes and said, “But you made him happy too. He never showed any interest in any woman after my mother died until he met you. I’ve never seen him as relaxed and happy in years.”

Diana looked back at her and her chest felt so tight that she had to take a deep breath. “Thank you, Maria,” she said. “Thank you. That means an awful lot to me.”

“Don’t thank me.” Maria was shaking her head. “I don’t deserve it. I feel so terrible – I feel so guilty.”

“But you have nothing to feel guilty about.”

“I have.” Her voice was now a whisper. “When Stella told me that her mother was going to matchmake you and my dad at the races that day, I was really angry with her and I planned to do everything I could to keep you away from him. Everything she told me about you made me really want to hate you.”

Diana looked astounded. How could Jane Maxwell have talked about her in such a way to her daughter? How could she have made her sound like such a pathetic, desperate case?

“If I hadn’t met you in the church that morning,” Maria said, “and discovered what a really nice, kind person you were, then you and my dad wouldn’t have had all those lovely months together.” Maria bowed her head now. “I wish he’d met you years ago because he wouldn’t have been so lonely that he sometimes drank too much or gambled away his money. I wish he’d met you because he would have been so much happier than he was.”

Diana pulled her back into her arms. “You have to stop thinking like that,” she said. “It won’t do you any good. And from what your father told me, he wasn’t ready or interested in meeting anyone else up until now. Sometimes it’s just the way life works out.” She stroked Maria’s hair again. “And maybe it’s the way it was designed to be, because it was a million to one chance that you and I met in that church and then met up again at the races. The more I think about it, it’s as if was as if it was all meant to happen.”

Maria’s head suddenly jerked up, as though something had just struck her. “Do you think that it was all in God’s plan to bring us together?”

Diana’s hand came up to her throat. “Who knows?”

Maria was silent for a moment. “Well, all I can say is that I think God is very, very cruel. Why did he bring us all together and let us be happy for such a short time – and then do such a terrible thing to my dad?”

Diana closed her eyes and Maria knew that she had no answers, and that she had probably been asking herself the very same thing since they got the call to go to the hospital.

The word continued to spread about Leo’s death through neighbours, the church congregation, talk in the local shop and phone calls. Most of the people who called at the house to pay their respects were neighbours and local people who knew Leo from the church and the newsagent’s and the other nearby shops. Then there were the others who knew him from the restaurant, the local pub he had frequented, the bookie’s shop he placed his bets in, and the trainers and staff from the stables who looked after Bella Maria.

And there was a constant flow of Italian people who knew Leo from when he was a young boy first landed in Ancoats from Lake Garda. They arrived, several of them openly crying, carrying Italian bread and cakes, and some of the men brought bottles of Italian wine and liqueurs. They were quiet at first when they were drinking tea or coffee, but became more talkative afterwards when the ladies in the kitchen brought them glasses of whiskey or wine or sherry. When one or two of the Italian women were uncertain as to what to drink, Diana went into the kitchen and a few minutes later returned with a tray with small glasses filled with the Italian liqueurs which they found much more acceptable.

When any of the Italians came to speak to her, they all made it clear to Maria that she only had to ask for anything if she needed it and they would be there, and they all embraced her and told her what a fine man her father had been. She found their offers of help very touching, but struggled when some of the more emotional mourners started crying and going over all that had happened to Leo again.

Quite a few people were intrigued about Timothy, the man her father had defended, and wanted to know whether he knew what had happened to Leo. Maria heard two of the men asking Franco if Timothy had had the decency to call to the house to offer his sympathies, and she found she could not listen to it as it upset her too much and made her relive the night again.

Each time a group of people left, Mrs Lowry and Bernice said how surprised they were at the number of people who knew Leo, but not one bit surprised that they all spoke so highly of him.

Diana found that each person who came in with a story of Leo’s kindness or his great sense of humour left her feeling sadder that she hadn’t known him as long as some of these acquaintances. And, on a number of occasions, she overheard people asking Bernice or Mrs Lowry who she was, and why Maria was sitting with her most of the time. Whilst she was gratified to hear them both describe her as Leo’s girlfriend, the fact that they didn’t know she existed and seemed surprised underlined just how new their romance had been.

Maria’s friends also appeared at the house in small groups for moral support, or with their parents. Stella arrived with both her parents, and when she saw Maria in the sitting room she ran over to her and they stood hugging and crying until they were separated when Mrs Lowry took Maria gently by the shoulders and Stella’s mother did the same with her.

When the girls went upstairs to Maria’s bedroom, Jane Maxwell went to speak to Diana and said that Leo’s death was the biggest shock she’d had in a long time, and that she still could not believe that such a fit-looking man in the prime of his life was gone. She had then thrown her arms around Diana, crying and saying how sorry she was because she knew that Leo had been the love of her life, and how awful it was for her to lose him so soon.

Diana, her heart sore with grief, silently and politely took herself off into the kitchen. She knew she could not trust herself to speak without telling Jane exactly how she felt about her. Bad enough that she had been talking all the nonsense about her matchmaking schemes, without adding to it by making a huge emotional drama out of her and Leo’s relationship. But she knew it was not the time or place to let fly with her anger now, and so had to bottle it up along with all her other feelings.

More people arrived and gave their commiserations to Maria and Diana and Franco – who some people mistook for Leo’s brother. Bernice and Mrs Lowry kept putting teacups and saucers on the table, and milk and sugar, and frequently did the rounds with an extra big teapot borrowed from Leonardo’s. When plates of sandwiches and sliced fruit cake and biscuits were passed around, the sombre mood in the room eased a little and people began talking about the weather and things they had heard on the news.

At one point Diana and Bernice brought Maria to a quiet corner to explain that it was customary to make a small altar-like area, using a table and candlesticks and maybe a holy statue. It was too late to buy flowers today for it, but they would order enough flowers first thing in the morning to put on a small side table as well. Maria had asked what she was going to do about paying for the flowers and other things like the food, and Bernice told her that at some point she would be entitled to an insurance pay-out which would cover all these costs. Until then, she and Franco had discussed it and would pay any bills and the money could all be sorted out later.

Then, another car pulled up at Contis’ gate and Diana saw two young men get out. She turned towards Maria and said, “I think you have some friends arriving.”

Maria looked towards the window and saw Paul and Tony coming up the path. She felt an unexpected thrill at seeing Paul which was quickly followed by an enormous wave of guilt. She took a deep breath and went to open the door herself. She greeted them both quietly and then she guided them into the empty dining room and closed the door behind them.

“How are you?” Paul asked when she turned to face them.

She looked up into his concerned eyes and thought how grown up he suddenly seemed, with the same responsible air she felt around Diana. It made her feel a little safer in the midst of the nightmare situation she was in, and she wished that that Tony wasn’t there so she could talk to him properly and he could reassure her that things were not as wholly awful as they seemed.

“I’m okay . . .” Her voice was faltering, and she was trying not to break down. “I still can’t believe it . . . I just can’t believe he’s gone.”

He moved towards her now and put his arms around her and held her close to him. She leaned against his chest and closed her eyes. She would have loved to have just stayed in his arms, but knew that it would make Tony feel awkward.

As she drew away, Paul held her shoulders gently and kissed her on the forehead.

“I don’t want to ask you to go over it all again,” he said, “but if what we heard is true – it shows what a brave and Christian man he was.”

“It is true,” she said, her eyes filling up. “He died because he went to help Timothy – a vulnerable sort of man – who was being bullied.”

Paul nodded his head. “I remember your dad talking about him the night we were at the Palace Hotel and, when I heard, I guessed it was the same man.”

Maria took her hanky out and rubbed it under her eyes. “It had been happening for a while – they’re a bunch of lads who go around looking for trouble.”

“I know what I’d like to do to them,” Tony said, clenching his fists. “I’d like to give them some real trouble. Bloody morons!”

Maria looked sad. “Well, there’s no point in us thinking like that. Both my father and Franco said it was an unfortunate accident and that they were just stupid boys showing off. They shouldn’t have bullied Timothy, but they didn’t deliberately set out to do something that serious.”

“Have the police been involved?” Paul asked.

“I don’t honestly know. I don’t even want to think about it. If they are involved, then Franco will probably deal with it since he was there.” She went to open the door to take them to the sitting room when she suddenly thought of Stella and her parents. “Oh, Tony,” she said in a low voice, “I’m sorry, but Mr and Mrs Maxwell are in the sitting room with Stella. I don’t want things to be awkward for you – would you rather stay in here until they are gone?”

He shrugged as if he didn’t care, but she could see he looked uneasy. “I don’t think they will say anything to me today. It’s not the time or the place.”

They went into the sitting room and when Maria saw Mr and Mrs Maxwell sitting on a sofa near the kitchen door, she led the boys over to chairs in the corner at the opposite side of the room. When they were seated, Maria – trying to think of something to talk about that would not be too sad or awkward – asked about a big race that was coming up the following weekend. It was a race she had heard her father and Franco discussing the last time she was in the restaurant and that she knew the boys would have a great interest in. It seemed bizarre to be thinking of anything else but her father, but she knew she needed to focus her mind on something ordinary for a while, and the three of them needed a topic that would also help distract Tony from thinking about Stella’s parents.

She was listening to the boys quietly talking about the horse that was the favourite when Stella appeared at Maria’s side to say hello and check if they wanted tea or coffee. She naturally spoke in a more serious tone than normal, but when Maria glanced at her she could see that her whole attention was focussed on Tony as if there was no one else in the room. For a moment Maria felt angry with her, as if Stella felt that even a sad occasion like this was worthwhile if she could be with him. But then she remembered how she had felt when Paul arrived and how she had wished they could be on their own, and she thought that maybe she was being hard on her friend.

When the boys said they would both have tea, Stella went back towards the kitchen. As she passed the sofa, Maria saw her mother reach over and catch the cuff of her jacket, pulling her to a halt.

Although they were quiet, and Stella kept her head bent low, it was plain to Maria that her mother was saying something very serious, and at one point she seemed to be appealing to her husband to become involved in the hushed discussion too. Stella appeared to be saying little, but Maria knew her well enough to know by the set of her jaw that she was not happy, and this was confirmed when she saw her friend jerk her arm out of her mother’s grip and walk into the kitchen. She reckoned that Mrs Maxwell had been telling Stella off for being with Tony, and thought that if the romance continued there was going to be a big showdown over it, one way or the other. Over the weeks she had seen Stella getting more and more upset and annoyed with her mother about Tony and, from what Maria could see now, her mother was not budging one inch to meet her on this issue.

Paul and Tony went back to discussing the race, Tony talking quickly and dominating the conversation, but Maria thought there was an uncertainty in his voice and she was sorry for him because she knew it was all a cover-up because he felt uncomfortable with the situation. She remembered the anxious way she felt when she first started seeing Paul, in case the Spencers might not think she was good enough for him.

She now felt Paul discreetly reaching for her hand and giving it a little squeeze and when she looked up at him he leaned down and asked her in a low voice if she was okay. She looked up into his eyes and nodded, wondering whether, if they were alone, she could somehow explain that there were times when she felt she was her normal self – which she knew wasn’t right – but there were other times when she felt that the people there and all the other things going on around her were like a strange, foggy sort of dream. And she would also have to explain that there were even times when she felt that this was not her house and that her father was not really dead.

She was listening to Tony saying something about one of the horses at the stables having problems with its front hoof when, out of the corner of her eye, she saw Stella coming out of the kitchen. This time she did not go too close to where her parents were sitting, and acted as if they weren’t in the room at all. As she approached, carrying two china cups of tea with saucers, Maria noticed that the dark checked slacks Stella was wearing had slipped down lower on her hips, revealing what looked like her younger brother’s snake belt. Maria had been with her in Stockport the day she bought the trousers about a month ago. They had been the smallest size in the shop and had just fitted her. She had obviously lost more weight since and they now looked almost baggy on her, and Maria wondered if maybe something was wrong with Stella that was making her continuously lose weight.

As Stella passed the teas over, Maria saw Diana come out behind her carrying a huge platter of sandwiches. She watched the elegant, attractive woman quietly going from group to group of the mourners, pausing to have a few polite words with each one, and she realised that things would be very different today if her father had not met her.

Diana was just coming towards Maria and the boys when the phone rang in the hall.

Bernice came out of the kitchen, looked over towards Maria and mouthed, “Shall I get it?”

Maria nodded.

A few minutes later Bernice came back into the sitting room and went over to speak to Diana, who placed the sandwiches on a table and went back out into the hall with her. When the door opened again, Maria looked over at them with anxious eyes and they beckoned to her to join them.

Beatrice took both her hands in hers. “Maria,” she said, “that was the hospital. They said they’ve released your father and he’s now on his way to the funeral director’s.” She was talking quickly as though she wanted it all over, as though she did not want Maria to think of him in the black hearse. “They said that someone needs to go to collect his belongings and – and collect the certificate. If it’s okay with you, Franco and another friend of your father’s will go for it.”

“What certificate?” Maria asked.

Bernice looked down at the floor. “The death certificate.”

Maria closed her eyes as the reality of the situation hit her once again, making her stomach feel as though it were doing somersaults. Then, just as she thought hysteria was going to descend on her, the strange foggy feeling came in its place.

“After that,” Bernice said, “they will need to go through his things and get his birth and marriage certificate and some other documents so they can register it all.”

“I told Franco that everything will be in the filing cabinet in the spare room that he used as an office.”

“I’ll tell him to get them now,” Bernice said, “and if there’s anything else we need he’ll come and ask you.”

Diana touched her shoulder. “Are you okay?”

Maria nodded.

“It’s nice that your friends have come – it must be a help to you.”

“It is nice.” Her voice was flat. She looked from Diana to Bernice. “Is there anything else I should do?”

“We’ll come to you if we need anything else,” said Diana.

Maria turned to go back into the sitting room and, when she entered the room, she stood for a few moments with the door not quite closed, trying to compose herself before joining Paul and Stella and Tony across the room.

Then, she heard Bernice’s voice from the hallway saying, “My heart goes out to that poor, poor girl, and it’s awful having to ask her things about the funeral, but we can’t just go ahead and choose things without her opinion. She shouldn’t have to deal with all this at her age – there should be some relatives to do it for her.”

“Is there really no one?” Diana asked.

“It doesn’t look like it, but Franco is doing his best to contact some of them, although he’s devastated himself about Leo. What I’m concerned about are the difficult things we still need to ask her.”

“What’s do you mean?”

“The coffin has to be chosen and it has to be decided what Leo is to be dressed in . . .”

“Oh, God . . .” Diana said.

Maria stood now as rigid as a statue, images of what now lay ahead for her father crystal clear in her mind. She suddenly felt that she needed to get out of the house, but she could not go to the front door and have to face Diana and Bernice after what she had heard Bernice say. She looked over towards the kitchen where she knew Mrs Lowry was, and wondered if she could go out into the garden without having to stop and explain herself to anyone.

She was just about to move when she heard Tony call out: “Stella!” Then she heard a loud thud which cut through all her previous thoughts. She turned to look over to where Tony and Stella were standing and her eyes widened in shock when she saw Stella collapsed on the floor, Tony and Paul kneeling beside her.

Then she saw Stella’s mother rush across the floor and push Tony to the side. “Get your hands off her! Don’t touch her!” She lifted her skirt a few inches to allow herself to kneel down at her daughter’s side.

“I was only trying to help,” Tony said as he got to his feet. “I didn’t do anything wrong. She just suddenly fainted.”

“Get away!” Jane Maxwell hissed, patting both sides of Stella’s face in an attempt to rouse her. “It has nothing whatsoever to do with you. She has nothing to do with you! Her father and I will look after her.”

Maria, somehow unable to move, felt sorry as she saw Tony’s face flush with discomfort and embarrassment. He took a few steps back and, for something to do, stuck both hands deep into his jacket pockets. He then stood watching, shifting anxiously from one foot to another as though ready for a quick getaway.

Paul moved closer to Mrs Maxwell. “She was fine one minute – chatting away – and the next minute she just seemed to go into a dead faint.”

“Thank you, Paul,” she said graciously. “I’m sure it’s just a little faint. Lots of girls get them. I’m quite sure she will be fine.”

Maria watched as Stella’s father appeared now with a glass of water. “Stella?” he said quietly, crouching down beside his wife. “Sit up now like a good girl and have a sip of water and you’ll feel better.”

Stella stirred a little as though she had heard him but moved no further.

“Come on now, Stella,” her mother said. “You need to move. It’s time for us to go home.”

The door opened behind Maria and she had to move to the side to allow it to open fully. Diana and Bernice came in, followed by Jennifer Cox from next door and her mother and father.

Diana looked over to where a small group were gathered around the Maxwells then she looked at Maria. “What’s happened?”

“Stella fainted,” Maria said in a low voice, surprised to feel fairly normal again. “She seemed fine one minute and the next she fell to the floor.”

“Oh, my goodness,” Diana said. “I hope she’s okay.”

Jennifer Cox looked back at her mother and said, “I think we’ve come at a bad time. It might be best if we come back tomorrow.”

Maria looked over and could see Stella sitting up now. “It’s okay,” she said. “I think my friend is recovering. Come in and have a cup of tea.” The Coxes then in turn shook Maria’s hand and had a few quiet words of sympathy with her, while she stood pale-faced and quiet.

A short while later Stella was helped up into a chair and then she drank some water, looking as if she was gradually coming back to herself. While her father was checking if she was fit to stand, Jane Maxwell came over to Maria. The Coxes excused themselves politely and left them to talk.

“I’m terribly sorry about what happened, Maria,” Jane said, her face strained and pinched. “I know that things are hard enough for you without this happening. I think we need to get Stella straight home and into bed.”

“I hope she’s okay,” Maria said quietly. She looked over and could see that Stella was on her feet now, and her father had his arm around her protectively.

“We must get her to a doctor and get her checked out. As you probably know, she has had a few fainting episodes over the years when her periods are due.”

“That’s probably what it is.” Maria hesitated. “She’s also lost a lot of weight recently . . .”

“Yes, a lot of people have noticed that. I hope it’s not the ballet taking too much out of her. She’s been doing more practice lately than usual – she’s never out of the studio.” She raised her eyebrows. “It’s a change – a few months ago she was the opposite – we couldn’t get her to do anything. But that’s Stella all over; you can’t tell her to do anything.” She gave a loud sigh. “Oh, hopefully we’ll get it all sorted.”

Maria looked over to the corner where the two boys were and could see Paul talking to Tony, who was still moving from side to side and looking more uncomfortable than ever.

Jane followed her gaze and then pursed her lips and shook her head. “Dear God! She’d be an awful lot better if she kept away from that boy. I don’t know what she’s doing with him, and I hope she didn’t arrange to meet him here.”

“Tony being here had nothing to do with Stella,” Maria said. “He came with Paul. He knows me and my father from the stables, and he’s always been nice to us, and I think it was kind of him to come.”

Jane looked back at Maria, her eyes filled with doubt. “Well . . . I’m so sorry it happened today. You have enough on your mind without this. We’re so sorry about your father.” Then, her eyes started to fill up. “Dear, dear Leo . . . How very unfair life can be.”