The Mermaid Garden (62 page)

who had brought him into the world wrapped their arms around him.

“So, you’re not Baffles, the gentleman thief,” asked Jake, finding the

intensity of emotion intolerable.

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Rafa laughed. “Of course not.”

“Then what were you doing in Marina’s room?”

“Trying to find proof that she was my mother.”

“And did you?” Marina asked.

“No. Just a poem. ‘My Marine Marina.’ ”

“Ah, wrong box. That was how I got my name. I chose it out of Kath-

erine Bridges’s book of poems that was on my bedside table when I ar-

rived in Beach Compton. Of course, I didn’t understand it, speaking no

English, but Marina is also an Italian name from
mare
, meaning sea.

The sea was the only thing I could find that England had in common

with Italy, so I chose it as my name and tore it out to keep. Let me get the
right
box and show you how I clung to your memory all these years.”

She left the room and hurried upstairs. Her heart was so light she

could feel it bouncing in her chest like a big helium balloon.

Rafa sat beside his father, still holding the file he had been show-

ing Clementine. Now he showed Dante. “There was no mention of

you anywhere in my uncle’s file,” he told him. “But I’m glad I’ve found you, too.”

Dante withdrew a little velvet pouch and peered inside. There, glit-

tering through the dark, was the diamond ring he had given Floriana,

and the charm bracelet from his mother. He turned the ring over in his

fingers, remembering the night he had given it to her, beneath the stars overlooking the sea. He had once thought they’d grow old together.

“Now that I know who you are, I can see you have Marina’s eyes,”

said Jake.

“Good God, I think you’re right,” Grey agreed. “I can’t think why we

didn’t notice before. The resemblance is startling.”

“And my coloring, not that you can see because I’m now so gray,”

Dante added.

“
I
never thought you were Baffles.” Clementine smiled at him af-

fectionately. He grinned at her and allowed his eyes to linger before

Marina returned with an old shoebox, and he had to tear them away.

She knelt in front of the sofa and opened the lid. The contents no

longer afflicted her with guilt. Like grenades, they had been defused.

“These are small treasured things from our brief time together. A photo of you the Mother Superior took.” She lifted it out and stared at it,

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amazed that the little baby in the photograph now sat before her as

a man. “There, you see how sweet you were. And your blanket.” She

pressed it to her nose then pulled out an envelope. “A lock of your hair.

Look how blond you were. You had such fine, silky hair. Silly things,”

she said dismissively, feeling foolish as she rummaged about with trem-

bling fingers. “But they were all I had.” She lifted out a wad of letters tied with the pink ribbon with which Violetta had wrapped her birthday present. “And these, how I treasured these.” She caught Dante’s eye and smiled wistfully.

“What did you call me?” Rafa asked.

“You were christened Dante.”

He looked down at his buckle. “Well, that has always been my mid-

dle name. Rafael Dante Santoro. R.D.S. When you introduced me

to Dante in Italy, everything fell into place. It was then that I knew

where I came from. But I wasn’t sure I could go through with telling

you. I wasn’t sure you’d want to know. I wasn’t sure
I
wanted to know—

I hadn’t anticipated feeling a sense of rejection. But now I know the

truth, I understand why I was given up. I understand that you were

given no choice.”

There were so many questions Marina wanted to ask, she didn’t know

where to begin. So she took his hand and asked him the one question

that had worried her more than any other. “Have you had a happy life?”

He smiled down at her. “Very,” he replied.

“I am also here for another purpose,” said Dante.

“What more could there possibly be?” Jake asked, weary of yet more

revelations.

“I would like to invest in your hotel.” Marina looked at Rafa and

pulled a face. “Yes, Rafa told me before you came down to breakfast.

Don’t be cross. I asked him why you had come, and he told me. I respect you for not having asked, but now let me make you an offer.”

“I’m embarrassed,” she said, replacing the lid on the box.

“There is nothing wrong with loving a place and doing all you can

to hold on to it. I love La Magdalena and would fight with all my re-

sources to keep it, were I in danger of losing it. Let me do this for you, because I can.” He smiled at her fondly. “And because I want to.”

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She nodded in resignation, secretly pleased, for all their sakes. “Then I will hand you over to my husband,” she said, pushing herself up from

the floor. “Grey understands the finances better than I do. Why don’t

you talk business with him while I go and arrange lunch? I suggest we

all eat together. One big family.” She looked around. “Where’s Harvey?

Has anyone seen Harvey this morning?”

“He went to visit his mother yesterday evening,” said Jake. “Maybe

he’s not back yet.”

“Then I must call him straightaway.” And she strode off into the

kitchen.

Grey invited Dante over to the hotel to discuss business in the li-

brary. Jake returned to his duties, pleased to leave the stifling atmo-

sphere of the little sitting room. Clementine and Rafa were left alone.

“So, are you still going to leave today?” she asked, thrusting her hands into her trouser pockets.

“How can I?”

“Well, you’ve found what you were looking for.”

“I’ve found
more
than I was looking for.” He gazed at her in that intense way of his. She averted her eyes, not wanting to hope and be

disappointed. “Clementine, I found
you
.”

“But you didn’t want me.”

“I always wanted you. I wanted you so much it ached.” He took her

in his arms. “I couldn’t expect you to love me when I was hiding my

identity from you. I couldn’t risk hurting you.”

“But you did all the same.”

He traced his fingers down her face. “I’m sorry,
mi amor
. I never wanted to hurt the woman I love.”

“So what do we do now?” She lifted her chin defiantly.

“I suggest we enjoy the rest of the summer here. I want to spend time

with Marina and share her memories. Then I will take you on a long

trip around South America.”

“That’s presumptuous.”

“We will start in Argentina, then go across to Chile on horseback,

up to Brazil and Mexico and Peru.” He bent his head and softly kissed

her neck.

“That’s going to take a while. What will Mr. Atwood say?”

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“You’re not going to work there anymore.” He placed his lips on her

jawline.

“I’m not?”

“No, because you are made for better things than that.” He moved

his mouth up to her cheekbone and lightly brushed her skin.

“What things might they be?” she asked weakly.

“I don’t know, but we’ll discover them together. That will be the fun

of it.” Before she could say another word he pulled her against him and pressed his lips to hers. As he kissed her, all the disappointment and

longing that had built up over the last weeks evaporated like summer

mist.

Marina telephoned Sun Valley Nursing Home and asked for

Mrs. Dovecote. There was a lengthy scuffle, the mumbling of voices,

then the receptionist returned on the line to tell her there was no one of that name in the home.

“But there must be some mistake. Perhaps she’s registered under

another name. Her son, Harvey Dovecote, goes to visit her regularly.

Recently, he’s been going several times a week.”

“I’m sorry, there’s no one by that name, and everyone who visits has

to sign in. There hasn’t been anyone by that name. I’d remember a name

like Harvey Dovecote.”

Marina put down the telephone, perplexed. She thought of his

nephew’s beautiful Jaguar, and her heart began to pound. He had

started mentioning his nephew only recently. Wouldn’t he have men-

tioned him before? And if he wasn’t going to visit his mother, where

was he going? If his mother wasn’t at Sun Valley, what else was he lying about? Did he have a mother at all? He was past seventy himself.

Suddenly, she had the most terrible vision. Hot with anxiety, she

hurried over to her office and rummaged around in her drawer for the

key to Harvey’s shed. She wasn’t sure whether she had one, having not

been in it for years. However, it lay there among all the other keys,

tagged and labeled. She clutched it tightly, hoping her fears were un-

founded. Perhaps Harvey had a plausible explanation. However, the

vision refused to go away. Without a word to anyone she stole down

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garden in the shadow of a giant horse chestnut. With a trembling hand

she slotted the key into the lock and turned it.

The door whined grudgingly as the contents of Harvey’s secret life

were brought into the light. She gasped in astonishment. There, in

neat piles among the baler twine and Agritape were jewelry, paintings,

and silver, pilfered from the grand houses he had robbed. On the shelf

nailed to the wall was a neat pile of books by E. W. Hornung about

Raffles, the Amateur Cracksman.

Hurriedly, she closed the door and locked it, her heart thumping

frantically in her chest.
No one must know about this
, she thought to herself, feeling sick.
At least, not until I’ve spoken to Harvey
. She slipped the key into her pocket and made her way back up to the house.

Maria Carmela heard the telephone ring and knew instinctively that it

was her son, Rafa. She hurried into the kitchen and picked it up.
“Hola.”

“Mamá.”

“What news? I haven’t heard from you for a week.”

“I have found my biological parents.”

Maria Carmela sat down. “You have found them? Both of them?”

“Yes. Marina, the woman who owns the hotel, is Floriana. She fell in

love with a man called Dante. They’re here, both of them.”

“Are you all right?”

“I’m happy, Mamá. I know where I come from now, but I also know

who I belong to.”

“You do?” Her voice sounded strained.

“I belong to you, Mamá. I always have.”

Maria Carmela’s heart felt as full as a bag of sunshine. “I have been

so worried. You see, when Father Ascanio asked us to adopt you, I had

to confide in my employer, Señora Luisa. When she took you under

her wing, I feared she would take you from me, for she was the only

person who knew you did not belong to us and she was enchanted by

you. When you set out on this quest to find your biological mother,

again I feared I’d lose you. I have always been aware that you were

entrusted to us, but not one
of
us. I’ve always feared I would lose you one day.”

“But that makes no sense. You were the mother who kissed me good

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night, who read me bedtime stories, who bandaged my knee when I fell

off Papa’s mare. You were the mother I ran to when I was unhappy, to

whom I poured out my heart when it was broken. You are the woman

who has been a mother to me in all the ways that are important. I had

no other mother but you.” He sensed her emotion down the line and

understood that she was too moved to speak.

“Listen, you know the girl I told you about? Clementine?”

She sniffed and composed herself. “Of course, Rafa.”

“I want to bring her to meet you.”

“You’re coming home?”

“Yes, I’m coming home.” There was a pause. Rafa could feel his

mother’s happiness, and his heart swelled with joy. “She’s incredibly

special. I know you’ll love her, too.”

“If you love her, then so will I. How wonderful to think that you

went in search of one woman and you have found two. Tell me,
hijo,

was your biological mother very happy to see you?”

“Yes, she was.”

“Did you tell her how well I looked after you?”

“I told her that I have had the happiest life possible.”

“We weren’t rich.”

“Neither was she. But like you, she is rich in everything that mat-

ters.”

“I think your father would be very proud of you.” Rafa didn’t reply.

“I mean it,
mi amor
, he would consider you very brave. You took a risk, one he would have advised against, but it has paid off.”

“I miss him.”

“And I miss him, too. He wouldn’t have approved of me giving you

his brother’s box of personal items, but he would be happy to know the

outcome. That you are safe, that you know where you come from, but

that, above all, you still know where you belong.”