Zia nodded. If Fiorella was about to say she wanted to sweep their relationship under the carpet she’d probably break down and cry. Zia wasn’t what Pap would have termed ‘a leaky female’, weeping and wailing her way through life, but tears were already blocking her throat. She knew her grandmother now, had worked alongside her in Lucia’s absence. She’d tuned into Fiorella’s rapid Italian muffled by her missing tooth and devoured news of her unknown family, smiling over the remarriage of an aunt and the exam results of a younger cousin. She swallowed. ‘I only discovered who my father was five months ago.’

‘Ay, ay, ay,’ said Fiorella. A tear brimmed from her eye. ‘You are my granddaughter.’ She made a small, uncertain movement of her arms.

Zia took a step, then another. Her grandmother’s arms reached out and she closed her eyes as they closed gently about her.

‘Zia-Lucia,’ Fiorella whispered. ‘With a good heart you helped Durante and Lucia. Roberto and I liked you for it. We never dreamed who you were.’

The hot tears trickled down Zia’s cheeks as, for the first time in years, she knew what it was to be hugged by a grandparent. She just couldn’t let go. Fiorella sniffled, patting Zia’s back. Ten, maybe twenty seconds passed before another, larger body loomed beside them. Zia wiped her eyes and turned to find Roberto hovering. He drew her gently from Fiorella’s arms and kissed both her cheeks.

‘We wanted to come straight away when Gerardo told us,’ he murmured. ‘But we decided to wait, as we knew my sister and Durante would soon be home. Our English …’ He gave a rusty laugh. ‘We wanted someone nearby to translate if needed.’

Zia wiped her cheeks with the backs of her hands, laughing too. ‘I might have managed. My Italian has improved while I’ve been here.’

Fiorella gave her high-pitched laugh between the tears. ‘I told you. She nearly always understands me now.’

Durante emerged from the house where he must have been awaiting the right moment, beaming, kissing Zia’s cheeks. ‘Let’s talk together. Between us, we have the whole story.’

The conversation lasted for the rest of the morning and right through lunch, though Durante carried his upstairs to eat with Lucia in their bedroom. Working along the timeline as best she could, Zia put together everything she’d learned of her history.

As they listened, Fiorella and Roberto shook their heads or winced and exchanged pained looks. ‘Perhaps we were too strict,’ Fiorella sighed. ‘Too unbending. Gerardo was inclined to want the liberty of adulthood without the responsibilities. We were frightened of him getting in, in … a situation.’

‘A situation like making his girlfriend pregnant?’ Zia asked drily.

Fiorella looked troubled. ‘It was not so common then. Not always accepted.’