LUCY GORDON - The Italian’s Miracle Family

‘I know he was a great Florentine goldsmith and sculptor in the sixteenth century, but that’s all.’

‘Come and meet him.’

Taking her arm gently, the man led her to the end of the bridge, where she found a bust of Cellini raised high on an ornate plinth. It was impressive and elegant, but what caught Alysa’s attention were the railings that surrounded it, which were covered with padlocks. Hundreds of them.

‘Lovers put them there,’ the shop owner confided. ‘It’s an old tradition. They buy a padlock, lock it onto the railings and throw the key into the River Arno. That means that their love has locked them together for all time, even unto death.’

‘How-how beautiful,’ Alysa stammered. A terrible dread was rising in her.

‘Isn’t it charming? It’s also good business, because when lovers come to me I usually manage to sell them three. Then they leave one with Cellini, and each gives one to the other, but they also swap keys so that only they can open each other’s locks.’

‘Can I see some of them?’ she asked, speaking in a daze.

‘Of course. It’s this way back to the shop.’

Once there he spread a collection on the counter, and she picked up the one that was exactly like James’s gift, the heart studded with tiny stones.

‘Ah, yes, everyone likes that,’ the shopkeeper said. ‘They’re real diamonds and it’s the most expensive one I have.’

‘Even unto death,’ she murmured.

‘That’s the part that always affects them,’ he said. ‘They know they’ll be together for eternity.’

There in her mind was the picture of James and Carlotta, lying in the smashed chair, dead in the same moment. Together for eternity.

‘How much?’ she asked in a bleak voice.

He told her the price and she gasped.

‘Yes, you’d have to be really in love to pay so much,’ he conceded. He lowered his voice conspiratorially. ‘If your lover gives you this one, then you can rely on him for ever.’

‘Oh yes,’ she murmured. ‘For ever.’

‘Why don’t you bring him in to see it?’

‘I think we’re a bit past that point,’ she said wryly. ‘Thank you, but I must be going.’

She fled while she still had some self-command, turning back across the bridge so that she didn’t have to pass the statue again with its terrible display of lovers’ vows.

James and Carlotta had been here, hung a padlock on the railings, tossed the key into the Arno and swore love unto death. Then they had exchanged padlocks, each taking the other’s key. That was what she’d found in his bag, and that was why the key hadn’t fitted. It was all so clear when you knew.

She’d told herself that nothing could hurt her any more, but she found she was shaking as she’d done so often in the past. But, instead of weeping, she began to laugh at this last deadly joke that had lain in wait for her. It was hilarious, the funniest thing that had ever happened.

She made her way blindly along the streets, shuddering, laughing, pressing her hand to her mouth, knowing that she was receiving strange looks, caring nothing for them, or even for the fact that she was lost.

Now she was in a quiet part of the city, within sight of the river, and went down to lean on a low wall overlooking the water. Vaguely, downstream, she thought she could see the apartment building where Drago had taken her last night-the place where James and Carlotta had been free to indulge their love.

And, to her dismay, she was swept with longing for the one person in the world who she could reach out to at this moment. If Drago were here she would run to him, blurt out her misery, knowing that he would understand everything that was too hard for her to say. And she would find his powerful arms open to her in comfort. She had no doubt of it.

He’d known that soon her brave façade would collapse, leaving her defenceless. He alone had seen the fear behind the mask, because it was so like his own.

The need for him was so strong that she took out her mobile phone and found the card with his number. But when she’d dialled two figures she stopped and hurriedly turned the phone off.

‘What am I doing?’ she whispered. ‘I must be mad. Everything that happened last night just wasn’t real. I’ve got to get home to England, then everything will be normal again.’

Using the river as a guide, she finally managed to make her way back to the hotel.

‘There are some messages for you,’ the young man at the desk told her, pushing a paper towards her. ‘The gentleman sounded urgent.’

‘Thank you. Please have my bill ready first thing tomorrow. I want to leave early. And, if anyone else should call, please tell them I haven’t returned.’

She was booked on the two o’clock flight the next day; she would leave for the airport as early as possible. In her room she packed hurriedly, ignoring the phone when it began to ring.

She was afraid he would turn up at her hotel, but to her relief he didn’t. At last the phone stopped ringing, and she gave muttered thanks that Drago had given up.

Next morning she left quickly. Luck was with her. There was an earlier flight with vacant seats and she managed to change her ticket. After checking in, she went to wait in the departure lounge, telling herself that soon she would be free. Just a little longer…

‘Excuse me, signorina .’

She looked up to find a man in uniform.

‘Signorina Dennis?’

‘Yes.’

‘Will you come with me, please?’

‘But I’m about to board the plane.’

‘I’m afraid you can’t do so until we have cleared up a small matter.’

His manner was pleasant but firm, and she yielded reluctantly.

‘This way to my office,’ he said.

She followed him, impatient to hear his explanation, but when they reached his office he showed her in and retreated, closing the door, leaving Alysa alone with the man who was waiting there.

‘You!’ she said angrily. ‘I might have known!’

Drago didn’t reply immediately, and she had time to study him. Now she wondered how she’d recognised him. If his face had been haggard the day before, it was deathly now. A man who’d seen a ghastly vision might have had his burning eyes. But she refused to feel sympathy. She couldn’t afford it.

‘I’m sorry,’ he said at last. ‘I would much rather not have had to do this, but something has happened. You can’t go back to England until you know everything.’

‘There you go again, telling me what I can and can’t do. Who do you think you are?’

‘I’m the only person in the world who can fill the gaps in your knowledge, just as you did for me-except that there’s much more than either of us dreamed.’

‘I don’t want to know. You must be mad to-Actually getting someone to fetch me from the departure lounge-how did you do that?’

‘Pietro, the young man who brought you here, owes me a favour.’

‘And what about my luggage? It’s on the plane.’

‘It’ll be retrieved.’

‘It must be a very big favour,’ she said bitingly.

‘I wouldn’t have done it if I hadn’t been at my wits’ end. You ignored my messages, and when I went to your hotel this morning they said you’d left early. But I checked your flight and it was two o’clock. I thought I’d find you easily, but I discovered that you’d changed to the earlier flight. I had to do something.’

‘And everyone had to simply step aside,’ she seethed. ‘But not me. I’m going back to get on the plane, and don’t you dare to stop me. Get out of my way!’

Drago had positioned himself between her and the door, and showed no sign of moving.

‘You’re not leaving,’ he said quietly. ‘You’re coming with me.’