Still the other woman looked at her strangely. Ally told herself to ignore it, delving further into the bag to discover more clothes, this time in solid colours, cut stylishly. They looked trendy and well-made but maybe a bit dressy for around the house.
‘Thank you,’ she said again, looking from Rosetta to Angelo. ‘Can you give me the receipt please, so I know how much I owe you?’
Ally heard a choking noise that could have been shock or disparagement, then the housekeeper said something in Italian and, at a nod from Angelo, left the room.
‘What did I say? Is something wrong?’ The housekeeper already disapproved of her and Ally didn’t want to get her further offside.
‘Nothing’s wrong.’
Yet his tone and quizzical look said otherwise.
Ally put the clothes down. ‘Please, Angelo. We called a truce, didn’t we? I’d rather you told me what the problem is.’ Surely nothing he said would be as upsetting as the facts he’d already shared.
He spread his hands in a gesture that struck her as intrinsically Italian. ‘No problem. Just something interesting.’
‘Go on.’
He tilted his head to one side as if taking stock of some curiosity. ‘First, you looked uncomfortable with the lingerie Rosetta chose. But in the past you had no qualms about wandering around the house in just that.’
Ally blinked, trying and failing to picture herself letting anyone else see her in those tiny wisps of nothing.
‘Second, the one item you gushed about didn’t have a designer label.’
Ally folded her arms. ‘Let me guess. In the past I only wore expensive clothes?’
Angelo shrugged. ‘They were your preference and I know for a fact you never wear florals. Your taste in clothes is more...dramatic.’
Ally’s forehead twitched as she looked again at the clothes. Of the lot, the one that appealed most was the sundress. It seemed her tastes had changed in half a decade.
‘Anything else? No, let me guess.’ She swallowed, hating what she knew was coming. ‘That I intend to pay you for the clothes.’
Slowly he nodded. ‘That and the fact you mentioned altering it to fit. Your strengths didn’t lie in dressmaking.’
Heat swirled deep inside as Ally thought of what shehadbeen good at. Lying and sex, as far as she could tell. She lifted her chin. ‘That was years ago. Obviously I’ve changed.’
For a second Angelo said nothing. Then he inclined his head and it felt like a win, as if the truce they’d called were real. ‘Clearly you have.’
He gestured to something else Rosetta had brought. A small backpack embroidered with daisies. ‘There’s this too. The belongings you left in the locker on the mainland.’
Instantly Ally forgot about clothes and personality changes and reached for the pack. It was light, too light, if it held all her worldly possessions.
She clutched it close, trying and failing to be optimistic that this might jog her memory.
‘Ally?’ Was that concern on Angelo’s face? It felt like it when he steered her to a deeply padded chair and guided her into it. ‘It will be all right. I promise.’
His words, soft and deep, wrapped around her chest, easing the tight breath caught in her lungs. Making her realise she was, quite suddenly, terrified.
‘Do you want me to open it?’ The unexpected tenderness in his tone almost undid her. She could stand up for herself against aggression or disapproval. But against kindness...
‘No. Thanks. It’s fine.’
With trembling fingers she opened the fastening and upended the contents. Faded jeans. Sneakers, a blue T-shirt that saidRoma, which she knew to mean Rome, a nude bra and knickers. A comb, lip balm, water bottle, sun cream and euros. She didn’t know the currency so couldn’t tell if it was a lot or a little.
Nothing to divulge her identity. No name tag or address. Worse, nothing familiar. Her hands strayed over the collection again and again, willing herself to remember, but nothing came. Just that yawning blank.
She shivered, the lip balm rolling off her lap.
‘There’s nothing,’ she gasped. ‘Nothing I can recall.’