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“I’m Alex and I’m nearly seven,” the oldest boy announces proudly, his grin revealing a missing front tooth.

“Hello, Alex! I guess you know I’m your Auntie Francesca. And, you must be Toby then! How old are you?”

Shyly, the youngest Rossi looks up at me and whispers, “Four.” He holds up three fingers and Alex rolls his eyes before gently pulling one more of his brother’s fingers up.

I follow my brother and his two children into the house and I’m struck again by how unsuited it seems to be for a family with children.Where is the chaos? The toys?

In the kitchen, Stefan introduces me to his wife Allegra. She is just as severe as he is. Uptight and cold, though she attempts warmth. Looking at the pair of them, I am not sure how they produced two such excitable young boys.

We kiss each other on each cheek and Allegra says, “It is so nice to have you here, Francesca. So nice for Stefan to have a family member who isn’t just out to use him. It is so sad that your father has so little care for his children.” Her voice is fluttery, and soft, and sounds far too young for her.

“Allegra,” Stefan softly reprimands her. His face says, ‘Be quiet’ and there is something awkward about their interaction.

“No, no, Stefan, it’s fine. I get it. I feel the same,” I smile reassuringly and they all smile back at me.

We have coffee and nibble on a selection of baked sweets Allegra has made. The boys are remarkably well-behaved for kids so young. They sit sipping frothed milk and listen to their parents asking me questions about my time in Britain. They’re bored, I can tell. But they know better than to express it.

We walked through a sparse hallway and into even sparser rooms to reach the living room and I hadn’t seen a single thing that would hold the interest of a four-year-old or a six-year-old.

Everything in the house is hard with sharp ninety-degree angles. Blocks of cold murky colours are cast against concrete and dark slate. It is impressive and expensive but belongs on the pages of some painfully obnoxious design magazine rather than housing a young family.

“So you’ve been back in Sydney for two years?” I ask when I finally spot a break in the conversation.

Stefan clears his throat and places his hand over Allegra’s where it rests on the polished concrete dining table. “Yeah, god time flies doesn’t it,cara? Can’t believe it has been two years.”

Allegra nods dutifully.

“So you’re here for good?” I don’t know why they would want to be. The Marinos don’t like him and they run the scene here. And, if he wanted to patch things up with Dad…he hasn’t made much progress in the past two years.

“We’re playing things by ear,” Stefan answers cryptically.

“What about your Dad, Allegra? You’re not needed in Melbourne?”

Stefan subtly squeezes Allegra’s hand and her childlike voice speaks. “Oh no, Dad has my brother. We wanted to…you know…give the boys a chance to see the other side of their family…”

“The truth is,” Stefan interrupts. “That is only part of the reason we moved. You are the other part.”

“Me?” This makes no sense whatsoever. “I was in England two years ago though?”

“Yes, but I got wind that Dad was going to marry you off and well, I couldn’t stand by. I failed you though, Francesca. Here we are two years later and you are engaged to that prick Elio.” He throws his hands in the air in exasperation.

Two years ago. Dad was planning to arrange a marriage for me two years ago. I was engaged to Gareth the posh Englishman two years ago! What was he going to do about that? Just get rid of him?

But, I did get rid of him. After Massimo showed up and talked some sense into me.

After Massimo turned up and talked some sense into me.

No. Massimo would have told me if he had been sent by his father or mine. We tell each other everything. Don’t we?

“Francesca?” Stefan is leaning forwards, concern etched on his pinched face. “I’m so sorry for failing you,tesorina. But I won’t give up.”

His dark, almost black eyes meet mine, but I don’t find reassurance in them. If anything, I feel trapped, and claustrophobic. Smothered.

“Thank you so much for coffee,” I say and in my rush to stand bang my hip on the stupid Flinstone’s table that probably cost $50,000. “Excuse me, but I just remembered - I have to go. It was so lovely to meet you Allegra and you boys. Please let's catch up again soon?”

Without waiting for an answer I rush out of the house, Stefan calling after me.

Chapter Twenty-Two