A Life Sublime (4 page)

Wise old bird
, he thought. “Thank you.”

She smirked, “You didn’t think I’d be smart and beautiful did you?”

“It crossed my mind,” he murmured, resisting the urge to start laughing. “Gina’s lucky I met her first.”

She kissed her teeth. “Silliness! Hurry up and make yourself presentable. We’re all hungry and that Sofia is drinking champagne like it’s water.”

“Sounds about right.” He got up and gave her a brief hug. “I’ll be ten minutes.”

She still scared the hell out of him, but there was definitely something comfortingly maternal about her. Now, how to get around the enforced celibacy rule?

Dinner wasn’t at all what Belinda was used to and it took will power she wasn’t sure she had to keep her jaw in place. They were all seated under the
loggia
, surrounded by candles as mosquitoes batted against the flames. Large fans circled from the roof of the
loggia
.

“They’re mosquito repellent candles,” Paul assured her as he pulled out her chair. “In case you haven’t got your spray on.”

“They haven’t been too bad this year, actually,” Sofia answered as she sat herself down and reached for the nearest bottle of champagne. The balmy air was infused with gardenias and freshly baked rosemary focaccia bread, served with balsamic vinegar and olive oil.

“Red or white, Belinda?” Massimo asked, standing to pour her drink.

“White wine, please.”

She watched as he filled her glass, sending her a smile before he sat down. He didn’t look much older than his sons. She itched to see photographs of him when his wife was still alive. Her death must have taken its toll on his body as well as his mind.

Despite Belinda’s warning, Nick practically had Gina in his lap, their chairs pushed firmly together, his arm around the back. As olives, prosciutto, tomatoes and mozzarella were placed on the huge oak table, Paul voiced his fascination with Belinda’s relationship to Gina.

“Wait, you’re not related?”

“Not by blood, no,” Belinda replied, helping herself to the mozzarella which was drizzled with pesto.

“We tend to call everyone older than us aunt or uncle out of respect,” Gina answered, putting down her Amalfi lemonade. “I grew up thinking I was related to everyone in London and my grandparents had been seriously busy.”

“Everyone is family,” Belinda added over the laughter. “It’s that saying, ‘
It takes a village to raise children.’
Make sure they behave.”

“Didn’t work with Gina,” Nick murmured, only to have his thigh resoundingly slapped.

“Cheek!”

“See what I mean?”

“Behave,” Paul frowned at them both. “So you were…?”

“Gina’s mother’s friend. We were friends for a very long time.”

His frown deepened. “Don’t your kids mind?”

“I don’t have any and if I did they’d treat her as a sister.”

Paul’s face twisted in empathy. “Well, biology doesn’t make you a mother.”

“Lesson learned,” Nick said dryly.

“Amen,” Sofia scoffed, draining her champagne glass. “Auntie, can I ask you something in that vein? If you were Paulie’s mother—”

“Sofia…”

“No, let me finish. Wouldn’t you agree being within a five minute walk of your son’s home is a little too close?”

“I’m not moving,” Paul said wearily, indicating a conversation that had obviously been on repeat play.

“I want to live in Sheen,” Sofia whined.

“Sheen is gorgeous,” Gina said, taking a sip from her glass.

“See, Gina agrees with me, and it is the perfect place for Junior Da Canaveze to run about.”

Gina choked on her drink and Nick released a sigh, shaking his head. Massimo’s fork dived back to his plate and Belinda scrambled to catch her almost overturned glass.

“You’re pregnant again?” Paul blurted.

“You are having a baby?” Massimo asked in an awed whisper.

Nick pointed at Sofia, “You couldn’t wait just one day?”

“We’re twelve weeks tomorrow,” Gina said with a grin. “We just wanted to be sure everything would okay and we’ve still got another…”

She was cut off by the scrap of chairs being pulled back, and drowned out by cheers and hugs of congratulations. Belinda was caught between shock and sheer joy at the news. She was devastated when Gina and Nick lost their first baby. Having never felt life growing within her, but to know that life had been extinguished so soon, had broken Belinda’s heart. But this was nothing less than God’s blessing, if not before God’s intended religious blessing.

“Sofia,” Massimo chided as he put Gina back down.

“I forgot!” she squeaked. “You all told me I’m not supposed to keep secrets anymore!”

“This,” Belinda announced, “is why you stay close to home. So in case your father-in-law becomes a grandfather by you two, you can leave the baby with him and go shopping.”

“
Zia
,” Paul groaned, “don’t encourage her.”

“Shopping is my business,” Sofia crowed. “And I’ll have to do my auntly duty by buying everything Junior will ever possibly need.”

“Never mind Paulie,” Gina winced. “I’m sure she’ll buy you something along the way.”

“There we are. No need for me to do anything. Gina’s doing the baby show for all of us.”

Belinda looked directly at Sofia. “Being able to have children or not, does not define you or your worth in this world.”

Sofia blinked. “What?”

“You heard me.”

Belinda sent her an assured smile, and turned back to Gina who was saying, “I had to have the dress taken out and the lingerie designer wasn’t happy about doing things from scratch to fit around Bullet 2.”

“Are you going to be passing out mid conversation?” Paul asked.

“Yes, and probably lactating crack at the same time,” she drawled.

Paul’s face went bright red and he put a hand over his face. “Sorry G. That was fucking funny though.”

“Language Paul,” Massimo said, his tone making the four sit up straighter. “You are educated. You do not need to express yourself with profanity. Certainly not in front of me or your aunt.”

“Sorry
Zia
,” Paul said solemnly. Belinda sent him the slightest wink which made him grin. How could she be cross at that face?

“Look at Dad,” Nick sounded amused. “Going on like he’s brought us up properly.”

“Did I not?” Massimo asked softly.

Gina laughed, cupping her belly. “You can give it another go with this one. We’ll need help!”

“Anything you need,” Massimo promised with such sincerity Belinda felt her throat thicken with tears.

“I think you’ve been beautifully brought up,” Sofia pouted, slipping her arms about Paul’s neck to give him a sharp peck on the lips.

“That’s because you were brought up by wolves,” Nick snorted.

“You’re lucky I love your almost-wife.”

“You’re both lucky I put up with you,” Gina interrupted. “Play nice.”

They were quiet for all of one second before Sofia said, “I’m going to teach your child to call you Prick-Daddy.”

“Oh lord,” Gina sighed. “You, don’t teach my unborn child anything I can’t undo. And you, I haven’t said I do yet.”

“Okay.” Nick blinked with little boy innocence before looking at his brother. “Same lady who did Paul McCartney’s divorce. On speed dial.”

“Yeah, I got it already,” Paul answered, barely looking up from his anti-pasta.

Sofia sucked in a breath of shock. “Ooh how dare you! After…”

“Sof,” Paul laughed, “calm down. We’re just rattling your cage.”

“You wait until I
do
get a baby.”

Paul’s eyebrows rose. “When is that
ever
going to happen?”

“Your next trip to Malawi?” Gina suggested.

Belinda was going to ask when they had been to Malawi before Massimo said to her, “I am thinking of bringing back the cane. Just to try and control them.”

“Good luck,” Belinda said with disapproval. The main meal arrived, a lasagne made with Tuscan sausage.

“Yes!” Gina crowed. “I’ve been looking forward to this for ages!”

Massimo stood up. “Let us toast.” He turned to Paul and Sofia. “To you, may you find whatever path brings you peace. To Belinda, welcome to our family. I apologise for the nonsense you will hear over the coming days.” He was nearly interrupted by calls of insult. “To Georgina and Nicholas, we wish you love and happiness at the very start of your journey together. Thank you for making me a very happy future grandfather.
Salute
!”

“
Salute!
” they all cheered.

Belinda took a sip of her wine and picked up her fork to dig into the lasagne. “Doesn’t mean you’re in the same room.”

Massimo caught her eye. “Ah, so I do not need the cane after all. I have you.”

Belinda started.
What the hell did he mean by that?

Massimo dropped two capfuls of limoncello into the black tea. He paused for a moment before adding a third. That would help him sleep. He was tired but rest evaded him repeatedly. It’d be nice for the ghosts of the villa to disappear now. In the distance, he heard the slap of bare feet on the tiles. Who was still up? Everyone else was now fast asleep, or being ‘helped’ on the way. Belinda turned the corner, dressed in a grey marl robe and matching full length night gown. She came to a skidding halt when she saw him.

“Good evening,” he said in delighted surprise. “I thought you had gone to bed?”

“I need tea,” she replied, waving a huge mug toward him. “Can’t sleep without a cup of tea.”

“There is a kettle, tea bags and milk in your rooms.”

She blinked. “What? Where?”

“The small cabinet beside your bed.”

“The cabinet that looks like a desk?”

He laughed, “Yes. Georgina said you are an avid drinker of tea. You have a wonderful view of the sea from your balcony. I thought you would enjoy your tea and some peace and quiet. The younger ones are rather loud.”

She tugged at her earlobe. “I had no idea, thank you. Sounds very nice.”

He held out a hand toward her. “Give me your cup.” She handed over the mug and he dropped a tea bag in it.

“What are you drinking?” she asked into the silence.

“Black tea with a little something extra.”

“Alcohol?” she wrinkled her nose in disapproval.

“A little.”

“That won’t help you sleep,” she warned.

“It is a temporary solution,” he said gently. He handed the cup back to her and watched her sip. There was an understated elegance to the woman as she lifted the cup to her mouth, resting the edge on her bottom lip which had a rather tantalizing divide in the middle. Salt and pepper chin length hair sat in immaculate waves, framing a strong square jaw dusted in rich cocoa skin. The grey robe skimmed exaggerated curves that boasted femininity in the extreme – the femininity that had defined Hollywood’s Golden Age. He hadn’t been alone with a woman in decades – certainly not one who looked like her.

She lowered long, sooty lashes to the cup and sighed with appreciation.

“Mmm. Good tea. Thank you.”

He dipped his head toward her. “Anything else I can give you?”

Wariness passed through her chestnut dark eyes. “What are you saying?”

“A piece of cake, some biscotti, a slice of cheese?”

“Everything about you lot is food,” she told him with a shake of her head.

“I am sorry, are you not from Ghana?”

Belinda burst out laughing. “Cheeky man. I’ve had plenty to eat.” She indicated the doorway. “I’ll just take myself off. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Belinda.”

She stopped, then turned back to him. “You need to talk to Nicholas and Paul.”

“About?”

“Their mother.”

Massimo halted, his heart suddenly frozen with fear. “I have discussed it with them.”

“There’s some guilt there, for feeling sad that she’s no longer here. They need to know it’s natural and they aren’t betraying you or some such nonsense.”

“She has been dead for well over a year.”

Belinda paused. “The first year after my mother’s death, I was at work and someone said something to me my mother used to say all the time and I was mad. A few days ago, I was packing and I saw an old photograph of my parents and I cried the whole day. The whole day. Time doesn’t matter when it comes to your parents. I’m sure Nicholas is thinking about what his mother would have been like if she had been here today. Even if he didn’t want her to be here. So talk to him. I’ve done what I can, but he’s your son. You should know him better.”