Page 49 of Annabel and Her Sisters

‘She says that as if we don’t polish off a whole bottle every night anyway,’ Giovanni confided with a wink, pouring the champagne and passing me a glass.

‘Your health, my darling, and that of all your family too. They’re well?

Your mama, Ginnie, Clarissa– and the children?

Gosh, Polly and Luke– they must be so grown up! ’

I told him they were all fine and filled him in briefly on their lives, then asked after his grandchildren– so many, he and Susan had twelve because MT had four siblings– and they were all excellent, he told me proudly: and then I mentioned that Mum had had a night in hospital but was fine now.

I was perched on a stool at the island as Giovanni poured the peas into boiling water at the stove.

‘Ah, that can send you ga-ga. The old waterworks, at our age.’

‘Yes, it did, temporarily. And Giovanni, that’s sort of why I’m here. She said some peculiar things, which led me down a bit of a trail. To Pammy, initially.’

‘Pammy! Now there’s a girl I love and miss. Out in the sticks now, damn her. She is an absolute hoot, and so delightfully irreverent. Still the same?’

‘More so, if anything. When I am old I shall wear purple– with knobs on. Two baseball caps when we went out to lunch, one on top of the other, and when I asked her why, she said– why not?’

He laughed. ‘Remember that love affair she had with Jean-Claude, the diplomat, a few years after Bob died? When she disappeared to France for a bit? And when Marie-Thérèse, fascinated, said, “Oh Pammy, I didn’t know you knew Paris so well,” she said, “I don’t, darling.

I only ever saw the ceiling of the George Cinq. ”’

I giggled as he drained the peas. He took the pie out and set it on the table. ‘And when Ginnie asked her how many cigarettes she smoked,’ I told him, ‘she said– as many as possible, darling.’

He laughed as we sat down. ‘Old times,’ he said wistfully. ‘And bad luck on Pammy– and your mama– losing Bob and your dad so young. Not to mention you, my love. Susan and I have been lucky. But God, we had some fun, all of us. Back in the day.’ He smiled, remembering, as he dished up the pie.

‘Yes, and… tough times too, I gather.’

‘Oh?’ He looked up.

As we ate, I told him what Pammy had told me. About Mum. And Piers. And Daddy. And Clarissa. He listened in silence. Not a trace of shock on his face. He clearly knew.

‘Yes, that’s true,’ he said shortly.

‘You all knew?’ I said in surprise. ‘Susan, Bob, everyone?’

‘And Piers and Miranda. Clarissa too, of course.’

‘You knew Piers?’

‘Of course. I still do. He’s a friend.’

‘Wait. What– through Mummy?’

‘Initially, and Pammy and Bob and your dad. I wasn’t in Yorkshire with them, obviously, but you know, all roads lead to London, or they did in those days, and so later we all mixed in the same circles.

I still play a bit of feeble tennis with him at the Hurlingham.

Susan and Miranda used to slug it out far more professionally with another couple of girls, but Piers and I mostly had a laugh at the bar.

Not so much now that Miranda’s died– you know how bad men are at keeping in touch.

It’s always the girls who hook things up. But I still see him.’

‘Right,’ I said faintly, my heart doing somersaults in my ribcage. ‘When did Miranda die?’

‘About five years ago. Cancer.’

‘Oh. So… he’s on his own?’

‘Yes, in Park Crescent.’ Giovanni was no fool. He knew I was stunned by all this. ‘Darling, what were we all supposed to do? Ignore the situation? We accepted it.’

‘But– Ginnie and I didn’t know!’ I blurted.

‘No. That was Clarissa’s decision. And her right, I believe.’

‘But– do they ever see each other?’

He was silent: ate on, without looking at me.

‘Giovanni– she asked me to come and see you.’

He glanced up. ‘She did? Clarissa?’

‘Well, not in so many words. But I found a photo of Mum’s at Joan’s and you’re all in it, Piers too, and when I picked it up and turned to talk to her about it– actually I didn’t, but I wanted to– Clarissa said quickly, do you still see Giovanni? Out of the blue. And sort of, stared at me.’

‘Ah.’

‘So I think …’

‘Yes, I agree. She can’t talk about such things. Can’t do emotions.’

‘No.’

‘So I get the hospital pass.’

There was a silence. Giovanni sighed. He put his knife and fork down and leaned on his elbows. ‘Yes, they see each other. It used to be once a year, I think, but since Miranda died, it’s more. She comes up, they have lunch.’

‘Clarissa comes to London!’

‘Yes, why not? They go to the theatre. Have dinner. Musicals, mostly, Piers is a big fan. He’s seen The Phantom six times.’

‘Good God.’

‘What?’

‘Well, it’s just…’ I was bewildered. ‘Giovanni, the woman you’re describing, lunching in London, the theatre, seeing… this man… is so unlike the sister I know!’

He looked a bit grave. ‘“This man” is her father. A very dear friend, actually.’ I was taken aback at his tone. ‘And I know he’s not your father, who she loved dearly, as I did, but he’s hers.’

‘Yes,’ I said humbly.

I finished my pie in stunned silence. I was trying to digest all this.

I was mostly very hurt that she hadn’t wanted us to know, but I understood the reasons.

Had guessed them and then been told by Mum.

Except… now she clearly did want us to know.

Perhaps she had done for some time. But she hadn’t been able to find the words.

Not everyone can. Ginnie and I had too many. But Clarissa… never enough.

‘What’s he like?’ I asked quietly.

‘Piers? Delightful. Not as bright as your father, of course, but kind and gentle and good company. Why else would your mother have fallen in love with him originally?’

‘Yes.’ I felt horribly conflicted. For Daddy. But I knew it wasn’t a competition.

‘Does…’ I didn’t want to voice it.

‘Does your mother ever see him?’

‘Well, I was going to say keep in touch,’ I whispered.

He smiled. ‘Yes. And Piers would like to see her more. Which I think is why Lea made the decision to sell up in London. She too, I think, wanted to see him more, and it frightened her.’

I gazed at him, astonished. ‘You’re kidding.’

‘I’m not. I’m Italian, darling, I know these things. I can express them. You English can’t. You fall in love and run a mile.’

I stared, horrified. ‘You think Mum’s in love with him?’ I gasped.

He shrugged. ‘I think they like each other very much and your mother decided to vamoose to the country. To Clarissa’s, to Ginnie’s– to distract herself.

To stop her being able to see him, when he called.

Susan says it’s far-fetched, but since you’re asking, it’s what I believe. You’re not eating your pie, darling.’

‘No– no, I…’ I had become frozen to my chair. I did reach for my drink, though. Gulped it. He smiled. Topped it up. His, too.

‘Why do you think our generation is any different to yours? Our hearts? Our feelings?’

Where had I heard that recently? Oh yes, he was echoing Pammy. I swallowed hard.

‘Your mother is a very attractive woman.’

‘She’s eighty-two!’

‘So?’

‘How old is Piers?’

‘The same.’

‘Did she… think we’d be shocked? Ashamed? Embarrassed? Ginnie and I? Hurt, even?’

‘Of course,’ he said calmly. ‘All of the above. Aren’t you?’

‘A bit,’ I admitted.

He shrugged. ‘So she ran. I’m pleased she’s back. Here, in London.’

‘She’s happy to be back,’ I conceded.

I glanced up. His eyes challenged mine. ‘She has to be allowed to enjoy what is left of her life, Annabel. And Piers too.’

‘Of course,’ I whispered. ‘I’m just… shocked.’

‘But pleased, too?’

I stared beyond him. At the tasteful art prints and lithographs on the wall. I let it sink in.

‘I think… maybe I will be. Eventually.’

He smiled. ‘Good. And it will grow on you. You’ll see.

If it was anyone else, you’d be pleased.

Your problem is that it was the man before your father.

That’s all. And let me tell you, because your father was my best friend, he would be very pleased.

Up there.’ He glanced heavenwards. ‘He loved Lea that much.’

He calmly finished his meal as I sat there, blinking back tears.