Today is the day I will become a mother. A proper mother to my darling daughter, Lara. Giovanni is driving me to Tindledale to bring her home to London and then on to Italy with us when we sail next week. It’s all arranged with Mother and Father after I wrote to them soon after my last visit to see Lara, setting out my wishes to have her with me all the time. I’ve missed her so much these last two months without a visit, but it couldn’t be helped as Mother wrote back explaining that Lara was terribly unwell with measles and so it would be prudent of me not to visit in my condition. With the pregnancy so recently confirmed by the doctor in Harley Street, Giovanni agreed too that it would be wise to wait until Lara’s health is restored.

Ah, Grace felt her heart lift on knowing that Connie was pregnant for a second time, but then immediately wondered where that child was now. She found a pad and made some notes.

Another child.

Born some time in late 1946.

Grace read on, keen to see if she could find a name for the second child. But then, hold on, her heart sank all over again, for surely Nonna Maria would have mentioned Connie having a child born in Italy soon after she arrived here. Instead she had specifically said, ‘Connie didn’t have a baby when she came to Italia’ and ‘a baby is always a gift’; that’s what Nonna Maria had said, and so Grace felt almost certain that the pregnancy hadn’t succeeded. It seemed most likely, as there was no mention of another child in any of the diaries. Oh Connie, how did you endure such heartbreak after all that you had already been through?

Grace read on.

I feel so happy and cannot wait to wrap my arms around my daughter and tell her she is coming home with her mummy. When I think of this moment soon to come, my heart fills with an abundance of love, for she is such a sunny, cheerful little girl and one that her daddy would have been so very proud of.

Grace smiled to herself, revelling in Connie’s joy. But as she read on, Grace felt her body go numb, a feeling of fear trickling from the back of her neck, snaking a path around her shoulders and down her arms before settling in her throat as she held her breath …