‘Hardly…’ Antonia sighed. ‘I don’t think this baby’s ever going to come out. What are you doing?’
‘Driving…Is Malvolio there?’
‘He’s just outside. I’ll get him—’
‘Don’t worry.’ Lazzaro interrupted his sister. ‘I’ll call over—I’m just a few minutes away.’
‘Well, stay for dinner. I could—’ Antonia started cheerfully, then stopped mid-sentence as the phone cut out—not that she gave it much thought. Her brother Lazzaro wasn’t exactly known for his small talk.
Putting down her book and trying to heave herself off the couch, Antonia smiled as the housekeeper opened the front door and her brother strode into the lounge. ‘I was just asking if you wanted to stay for dinner before you hung up on me.’
‘No…’ Lazzaro shook his head.
‘Stay,’ Antonia insisted, but still he shook his head.
‘Zio!’ Marianna’s squeal was delighted as she padded into the living room, dressed in pink pyjamas and a dressing gown, her dark curls bobbing as she ran delightedly towards him. Normally he scooped her up, rained her fat baby face with kisses—only he couldn’t today. He felt sick with indecision as he looked from his sister to his niece, not wanting to be the one to burst their bubble.
‘Hey…’ Lazzaro ruffled Marianna’s hair, tried not to notice the disappointment in the little girl’s eyes at his cool greeting. ‘It’s good to see you, Marianna.’ He turned his attention back to his sister. ‘I just wanted to have a word with Malvolio—about work…’ he added, completely unable to look at her now.
But Antonia wasn’t having it, and called to the housekeeper, asking her to take Marianna for a play, before talking to her brother.
‘Is everything okay, Lazzaro?’ Antonia checked. She hadn’t seen Lazzaro as bad as this for ages. Tense, distracted, he was like a coiled spring. ‘You seem…’
‘I’m just tired,’ Lazzaro answered, forcing a smile of his own. ‘It’s been a busy week. You heard about Jenna leaving?’
‘Poor you. Let’s hope you get someone soon.’
‘I already have.’
‘Already? That’s quick. Normally it takes you for ever to find someone suitable.’
‘Not this time.’
‘So stay for dinner,’ Antonia pleaded. ‘Marianna would be delighted, and so would I—it would help me take my mind off this little one.’ She ran a hand over her swollen stomach. ‘I’m getting more nervous by the minute.’
‘You’re going to be fine,’ Lazzaro said, and even tried to smile as he did so. ‘You’re both going to be fine. What are you reading?’
‘A baby name book—I’m down to about thirty names for a girl, but if it’s a boy…’ She paused for a second, watching as Lazzaro swallowed, pain flickering across his usually impassive features. ‘I want to call him Luca.’
‘That’s good.’ Lazzaro nodded. ‘That’s how it should be—it is the right thing to do.’
‘You’re sure? I mean, I know…’ She didn’t finish her sentence, waited for Lazzaro to fill in the impossible gap. Only he didn’t, instead running a hand over his forehead, then squeezing the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger for a second.
‘Talk to me, Lazzaro.’
‘There’s nothing to say. I just…’He couldn’t even think it, let alone say it, and Antonia tried to help him.
‘You think you’ll never be able to say that name again without remembering…?’
‘I’ll always remember,’ Lazzaro countered, because he always did. His late brother was a constant and was always on his mind.
‘Without feeling pain, then?’ Antonia suggested, but still she didn’t get it—the pain too was always there.
‘Without regret,’ Luca said finally. ‘I don’t think I will ever be able to think about Luca without feeling regret.’
‘Please don’t say that…’ Antonia’s eyes filled with tears—not for her dead brother, but for the agony that remained with the living one. The agony that could never, had never been fully discussed. And from the shuttering of his eyes, from the shake of his head, Antonia knew that this was as far as Lazzaro was prepared to go. Only it didn’t stop her from trying. ‘Lazzaro, if Luca’s safe, if he’s still with us somehow, then he understands why you had to say what you did—and something had to be said, Lazzaro. He was out of control.’