‘Is he married? Rocco never speaks of his private life.’
‘No. He lives with a friend. Angelo. Rent is high in Rome. It makes sense to share. He’s a real asset. Such a strong work ethic. We are always telling him to take a break, but he won’t. Our place is like a second home for him. You wouldn’t think he had his own to go to. Thank goodness.’ She swallowed. ‘Rocco virtually ran the place single-handed after Mamma … after she died, almost one year ago.’ Natale shrugged. ‘I just don’t get why Sarah would find him difficult.’
Mary pursed her lips. Give her an hour and she could explain. But it was early days and if Rocco was so popular with the Rossi family, then perhaps she ought to keep her concerns to herself. Even if he had blamed her for a coffee order he got wrong. Plus laughed at her Italian in front of customers.
‘I heard that you’d lost your mum,’ she said, softly. ‘I’m so sorry.’
‘You would have got on with her. Mamma loved astrology. Why do you have such a big interest in crystals?’ she asked and Mary wondered if she was changing the subject on purpose.
How could she tell her the truth? That she’d never had a steadying influence in her younger days. Foster parents changed. Caseworkers swapped clients. Whereas crystals – they remained steady. They offered hope – and a wisdom she’d received from nowhere else. A lump formed in her throat.
‘Years ago, I read about them in a teen magazine,’ she said, tentatively. ‘That article triggered my curiosity. It was about a girl who’d just had her heart broken. Every night she slept with healing crystals under her pillow. Six months later she was engaged to another bloke.’
‘So … your crystals help you emotionally.’
Cautiously, Mary nodded.
‘They have made you feel relaxed and at home, in Piazza Navona?’
Her face broke into a smile. ‘How could I not feel relaxed? My room is so spacious and bright. Lucia makes me laugh. You and I have some lovely chats. And I get to do my baking.’
‘Si,’ said Natale. ‘The ginger cream sandwich cookies you made, yesterday, were particularly delizioso.’
Granted, the first few days had been challenging. Mary was used to living alone and thought she’d prefer the quiet. However, soon she found herself looking forward to breakfast conversation with Natale, about the day ahead, and the evening mochaccino outside had become something of a habit – but not with Dante. Sometimes Alfonso kept her company but normally, in the evening, she’d find him sitting alone inside, in deep contemplation. Or Gabriel might pop across the piazza to see her for a friendly chat. However, Dante had reverted to being coolly polite. Granted one afternoon he’d sat down with her, at the back of the restaurant, to point out mistakes she was making with her Italian. But that would have been for the good of the restaurant. Apart from that he had kept his distance, emotionally as well as physically.
‘You okay?’ said Natale, bringing Mary back to the present.
‘Sorry. My mind was elsewhere.’
Natale raised an eyebrow.
‘I was thinking about Dante. I … I can’t believe how many pizzas he manages to make each day. It’s amazing.’
‘By now you know that my brother never likes to stay still. He is determined to stay busy and that life will continue more or less as it has always done.’
‘He still goes out with his police friends.’
‘Si. He sees old colleagues at least once every couple of weeks if he can. Losing his sight hasn’t affected his love of good food and wine – or office gossip. And he takes Lucia to the park – and swimming, seeing as her dad …’
Mary leant forwards.
‘He left before I gave birth,’ said Natale, quickly. ‘We were both so young – me seventeen, one year younger than him … To be honest, in his company I … how you say … went off the rails?’
‘Really? But you seem so sorted. So solid.’
‘I’ve had to grow up. My parents offered me one hundred per cent support, but made it clear I would have to face my responsibilities. His parents did everything they could to encourage my boyfriend to be part of his daughter’s life, but he disappeared shortly before my due date – apparently went to work abroad.’
‘Oh, Natale. That must have been – must be so hard.’
She gazed at her lap for a moment. ‘It is for the best. With him I drank … smoked … smoked all kinds of stuff.’ She looked up. ‘I almost ended up with a police record.’
Mary’s eyes widened.
‘You are shocked?’
‘Only because, well, your family, from the outside, it seems so … idyllic. And ordinary. I mean that as a positive.’
‘What, the cosy Italian family running a restaurant filled with laughter and singing – and ice cream?’
Mary looked sheepish.
‘And it is true. We love the bones of each other. But with Mamma gone, with Lucia missing a father and Dante losing his sight – I’d say we are far from ordinary.’
‘But you’ve pulled together. Stood together. In my eyes that makes you the perfect family. Always looking out for each other.’
Natale pursed her lips.
‘Sorry – have I said something wrong?’
‘No, of course not – it’s just … you don’t know the whole story.’
What could she mean? But then they didn’t know the full story about Mary. So why should she expect Natale to share every detail?
‘It’s great that Dante helps out with Lucia,’ said Mary. ‘And that must have helped him build his confidence too, in the beginning – trying out activities with a child who won’t judge.’
‘I’m sure you are right – although he has always spent time with her. Did right from the first weeks when her father ran off, in the days when he could still see.’ Natale fiddled with her watch. ‘I don’t know how I would have managed without him. Papà was so wrapped up with being angry and Mamma …’
Mary squeezed her arm. ‘I caught part of Dante’s conversation with your dad, the other day,’ she said, eventually. ‘He went into a school to give a talk? I’d be scared of doing that.’
‘Dante belongs to a volunteer programme, to spread awareness about his condition. Oro always gets thoroughly spoilt by the schoolchildren.’ Natale’s heart-shaped face fell for a second. ‘I don’t talk about this with Papà – he would only worry – but sometimes I think Dante keeps too busy.’
‘Better than staying in and overthinking his situation, surely?’
Natale finished her water. ‘But he even goes to the cinema now. They provide …’
‘We call it audio description, in English.’
Natale nodded. ‘Thing is, he was never a big fan of the movies, so why bother now …? I think he just does it to prove a point and to block things out – Mamma dying a year after his blindness …’
‘What a terrible time for you all.’ It would have been unbearable to watch this family going through such grief. For just a second, Mary’s heart warmed towards Dante. And Rocco – could the waiter really be so bad if he’d been such a support?
Tears welled in Natale’s eyes. ‘You have no idea,’ she whispered. ‘And sometimes it still feels so raw.’
Mary blinked rapidly. She wanted to