‘And now I’ll never know,’ he said.
The bleakness in his voice broke Carla. Impulsively she stepped forward.
‘Vito—let me help! Please let me help you find her. There must be a way—there must!’
He looked at her. ‘How? She won’t answer my texts or my calls. I don’t have any address for her in London, where she lives, because she works as a nanny. I’ve had investigators checking nanny agencies, but nothing—absolutely nothing! She’s vanished!’
Frustration and pain were clear in his voice. Carla felt her mind racing. An idea was forming in her mind.
‘Vito—listen. Even if you can’t find her—and neither can your investigators—maybe...maybe the press can!’
Vito looked at her blankly. Carla felt words tumble from her in her desperation to make amends—any kind of amends—to the step-cousin she had treated so shamefully.
‘Vito, I’m a journalist—I know how the press works. What about this? I’m fairly friendly with the features editor on one of those glossy international celebrity magazines. She loves it that I know loads of the people she likes to put in it, especially you! I’ve always been very discreet, but this time—’
Swiftly she outlined her idea.
Vito looked at her. For the first time the lines around his eyes seemed to lighten. ‘Do you think it has a chance?’ he asked.
Carla looked at him. ‘It’s worth a shot, isn’t it? A centre spread of you, with a glamorously romantic photo of you both, and a headline asking, “Can you find my beautiful Eloise?” Those glossy celebrity magazines have a huge readership!’
‘Can you set it up for me? A meeting with this features editor?’ There was sudden urgency in Vito’s voice.
Carla smiled. The first time she’d smiled for a long time. If this was some way to make amends to Vito, however belated, she would do it.
‘I’ll phone her now,’ she said.
Five minutes later she put the phone back on Vito’s desk.
‘She almost bit my hand off,’ she told him.
She could see her step-cousin’s eyes flare—fill with hope.
He got to his feet, came round to her. Took her hands. ‘Thank you,’ he said.
Emotion welled up in her. ‘Oh, Vito, don’t thank me! Not after what I did to you! I can never forgive myself—never! I was just so...so twisted up inside. So—’
She broke off again. Half turned away. But Vito did not let her go. Instead he put his arms around her, hugged her tightly. She felt tears prick at her eyes.
Then, abruptly, Vito stood back from her, looked at her with shock in his face.
‘Carla—’ There was disbelief in his voice.
Too late, she realised why. She stepped away, disengaging her hands.
‘Cesare?’ Vito’s voice was hollow.
Colour stained her cheekbones. ‘After...after you refused to marry me he...he turned up at my apartment. It was—’
‘Does he know?’ There was a steely note in Vito’s voice.
Violently, Carla shook her head. ‘No! And he mustn’t! Vito—he mustn’t!’
Vito’s brows snapped together, giving him a quelling appearance. ‘He must know at once!’ he retorted. ‘Before he goes any further with his engagement!’
Carla caught at his sleeve. ‘No! Please, Vito! I couldn’t bear it!’ There was panic in her face.
For a moment his quelling expression held. Then, abruptly, it vanished.