Page 85 of A Scottish Teashop in Napoli

A puzzled smile danced across Elena’s face as she took the flowers and ripped open the card.

‘A secret admirer?’ asked Lucy with breathless excitement. ‘Don’t keep me in…’

Her words dissolved as Elena’s face crumpled and she flopped into her chair, burying her head in her hands.

Lucy knelt beside her. ‘Elena?’

With a shaky hand, Elena passed Lucy the card.

The door is still open.

Warm wishes to you & your family, Richard Conti

‘Who’s Richard Conti?’

Elena flinched, then swallowed hard. Her lips trembled.

‘He’s the director of Sarastro & Salieri a delicatessen in the UK. Giancarlo had just negotiated a deal for them to stock our mozzarella and feature some of Mamma Moretti’s recipes in their cookbook the night…’ She gulped. ‘… the night…’

‘It’s okay. I remember now,’ Lucy said gently, clasping Elena’s hands tightly in hers.

The kind and empathetic tone of Lucy’s voice released a torrent of tears which Elena had been bottling up for the longest time.

‘Scusa.’

‘Please don’t apologise,’ Lucy said, grabbing a piece of kitchen roll and handing it to her. ‘I understand that grief comes in waves.’

The two women sat in solemn silence for a while, then Lucy said, ‘Tell me to mind my own business, Elena, but I’m guessing from this message Mr Conti is still keen to work with Mozzarella Moretti?’

Elena nodded.

Taking a deep breath, Lucy continued, ‘And what do you think Giancarlo would say to that?’

Elena raised her tear-filled eyes to the ceiling, searching for the right words.

‘It was his dream. I know deep down he’d want us to go ahead, and I know what I feel doesn’t make sense, but… I… I…’

‘You blame Mr Conti for what happened?’ The words flew out of Lucy’s mouth.

Elena nodded. ‘I’m ashamed to admit this. It’s irrational, but I keep thinking if only Mr Conti had insisted on taking a cab to the airport, then Giancarlo would still be here.’

‘Stop torturing yourself, Elena. Easy for me to say, I know, but…’

Another emotionally charged silence stretched between them. Lucy wondered if she’d gone a step too far. By trying to sound compassionate but positive, had she broken Rule Number One?Don’t tell a grieving person how to feel.

Inwardly cursing herself, Lucy scraped back her chair and reached inside the kitchen cupboard for the teapot.

As she waited for the water to boil, she looked out of the window. The sea, calm after last night’s storm, glistened in theFebruary sunshine. Her reflective gaze rested on cove-studded Capri and the rugged Sorrento coastline beyond. Despite the ever-present dangers of a live volcano and organised crime, this had to be the most beautiful place in the world.

The sound of bubbling water turned her attention back to the stove. Stirling Brew and Dundee cake; Granny Oona’s remedy, guaranteed to calm the mind and lift your spirits a wee bit.

Elena took a grateful sip of tea, warming her hands on the mug. She felt as if something was slowly starting to shift; she was tired of running. It was time to stop hiding behind her grief and to honour Giancarlo’s legacy by living out his dream.

Before she left home that afternoon to collect Stefano from school, she fired up her laptop, typing quickly then clicking ‘send’, before she changed her mind.

Dear Mr Conti,

Thank you for the beautiful flowers and message, which arrived this morning.