‘He was,’ Rico admitted, albeit reluctantly. ‘Mind you, once my mother started making money he was only too happy to give up and reap the benefits of her hard work.’
‘Are you sure he was happy?’ There was a long silence, and Rico made to walk away, but Catherine pulled on his sleeve and after a slight hesitation he turned back, ready to listen to what she had to say. ‘Normally it’s the other way around—isn’t it, Rico? Especially in Sicilian families. Normally the husband is the breadwinner; look at how opposed you are to me working.’ He opened his mouth to argue, but Catherine was too quick for him. ‘The man is supposed to be the provider while the wife stays at home?’
‘Then why didn’t he work? Why didn’t he join her in the business, take over the books, do something to ease her load?’ Rico countered, and Catherine hesitated before answering. Her answer was not one she was sure Rico was ready to hear.
‘Your father can’t read, Rico.’
‘Don’t be ridiculous.’ Rico’s laugh was derisive, the superior scathing man back now, but Catherine refused to be intimidated.
‘I’m sure of it, Rico.’
‘He’s a clever man…’
‘I’m sure he is,’ Catherine responded. ‘And a proud one too. Can you imagine how hard it must be for him, Rico? How hard not to be able to read his bills, the snappy little letters you send him? The small world he must live in when he can’t even look at a newspaper?’
‘You’re sure?’
‘I’m sure.’ Catherine nodded. ‘Please, Rico, try not to view him so harshly, try and understand your father’s side too.’ He gave a small nod which, however tentative, Catherine took as a sign of encouragement. ‘Maybe it wasn’t so easy for your dad to sit back and do nothing. However much I don’t condone it, maybe in some way having an affair made him feel a man again. Who knows what goes on in people’s lives, Rico? Only your mother and father know the full story.’
‘And Antonia,’ Rico added bitterly.
‘Antonia knows your father’s version,’ Catherine said thoughtfully. ‘And, however much you might loathe her, your father clearly loves her. Surely that must count for something?’
He didn’t respond—Catherine had never really expected him to—but this time when he walked away he reached for her hand and took her with him, walking in pensive silence along the river. And despite the lack of conversation, despite the endless problems that lay between them, never had Catherine felt closer to him.
CHAPTER TWELVE
‘YOU’LL be okay?’
Standing in the hallway, almost bristling with excitement at the day ahead, Catherine picked up her briefcase.
‘I’ll be fine.’ She laughed. ‘Yesterday was wonderful.’
‘You were tired last night,’ Rico pointed out. You fell asleep on the sofa after dinner.’
‘It was my first day back,’ Catherine answered, buttoning up her jacket and checking her reflection in the mirror.
She could scarcely believe the smiling face that stared back. Going back to work had truly been a godsend. With the eternal teacher shortage, her school principal had welcomed her back with open arms—and Catherine had been only too pleased to run. Rico might not understand her need for independence, but even he had reluctantly agreed last night that she seemed happier. Oh, she wasn’t stupid, knew that the money she would be earning would be like loose change to Rico, but it was her money, the independence she craved. It was a reason to put on her lipstick in the morning, a chance to use her brain, to escape the undoubtedly luxurious but nonetheless stuffy confines of the house. And even though it was early days she felt as if she now had so much more to give. Even though she had been physically tired, Catherine had been imbued with a curious high when she arrived home last night. She had played with Lily with the same gusto Rico managed to muster on his return, even woken to give her her two a.m. feed. Going back to work was surely the right thing, and she moved quickly now to reassure Rico, terrified of having her new-found freedom taken away, determined to prove she could do it all. ‘I’ve only got today to do, then I’m finished till next week; I’m hardly slaving away.’
‘You realise you’re in the newspaper?’ He pulled the paper out of his briefcase and handed it to her, but Catherine shook her head.
‘I don’t need to see it, Rico. I know the journalists followed me to school yesterday, but they’ll soon get bored; they?
??ll soon find another family to hound.’
‘It doesn’t look good,’ Rico insisted, but Catherine merely laughed.
‘So the company shares are sliding because a Mancini woman is actually going out to work? We’re in frantic financial trouble and relying on my part-time teacher’s wage to support us? Come on, Rico, they’re clutching at straws to make a story out of it—and anyway, it was your mother, a mere woman, who founded the company. Remind them of that when you blast them this morning.’
‘You really don’t give a damn what people think, do you?’
‘Do you?’ Catherine asked.
‘Normally, no. But I am worried about what the social worker is going to say.’
‘The social worker happens to be called Lucy,’ Catherine said with a slightly weary edge. ‘Lucy has two children herself, and if you’d bothered to find out you’d also know that her husband happens to be one of the leading consultants at the hospital. So she more than anyone understands that women need to work for so much more than money these days, Rico.’
‘I never realised you were such a feminist!’