‘I know,’ said Mim. ‘You asked if anything was sacred. That’s all I was saying.’

Mim was saved by the sound of a vehicle pulling up on the gravel. Her eyes sparkled. ‘You get it, Stella – I just want to dash to the bathroom.’ Hana slipped out to the laundry with the broom.

Stella peeked hopefully at Ava, who said innocently, ‘Who is it?’

Her mother spun on her heel and headed for the front door. Ava saw her quickly checking herself in the mirror on the way and she had to smile. Mim and Hana reappeared magically, all discomfort gone. Mum was on the back foot now. Ava had to hand it to them. ‘Go, you guys. I’m impressed.’

Chapter Thirty-six

Ava

Hana, Mim and Ava craned their necks as they peered avidly through the kitchen window. Her mother was making lots of hand movements and the man was watching her with a small smile on his face. As they turned to come back inside, Mim and Ava collided in their haste to get away from the window and Hana laughed. They’d only just managed to stop giggling by the time her mother returned.

The colour was high in Stella’s cheeks when she brought the big man through to the kitchen. ‘Lorenzo, you’ve met Hana, apparently, but this is my daughter, Ava, and my mother, Mirium Mason.’

Lorenzo DeFortelli stood almost six feet tall, had muscular arms and a barrel chest. A bear of a man who moved with surprising lightness of foot as he entered. Ava decided he was probably a few years older than her mother, judging by the brush of expensively cut hair that held distinguished grey around his temples, and the creases from laughter etching lines at the corner of his kind eyes. Ava had met few Italians and wondered if many older Italian men looked this George Clooney-esque in their expensive shirts and trousers. He was also extremely polite and gazed warmly at Stella. She could see why her mother was flustered if she was the reason he’d called.

Lorenzo made an infinitesimal but elegant bow. ‘Enchanted, Miss Ava. Mrs Mason.’

‘Call me Mim, please, Lorenzo,’ her grandmother said.

Ava resisted the urge to say, Just Ava. ‘Nice to meet you, Lorenzo.’ He held out his hand and she shook, and slowly, while still holding his hand, turned his wrist. ‘Nice stitches.’

‘She is clever, no?’ Lorenzo laughed and it was a deep, delighted chuckle that had Ava smiling too. They dropped hands. There was something vaguely familiar about him, but she couldn’t catch it. ‘Your mother repaired my foolishness very neatly.’

‘She’s a good cook, too,’ Mim said and deftly avoided the daggers Stella shot her way. ‘The jug’s boiled,’ she went on blithely. ‘Would you like tea or coffee?’