Treasured Lies (32 page)

Nonna held Archer captive with her dark eyes. ‘For seven hundred years this symbol has proudly represented wine grown from the Chianti
Classico
Zone.'

Archer sipped the red wine now, and as he made a show of appreciating its taste, Rosalina stifled a giggle. ‘But why did they choose a black rooster?' he asked.

‘I'm getting to that, Mr Mahoney.' Rosalina loved watching her grandmother in full form. Nonna was doing a marvellous job of suppressing her cheeky grin while she flaunted her authority on this deep-seated family tradition. It was a relief to know her grandmother was in good health and still had her wits about her. Rosalina was now certain Nonna had many more great years of living ahead of her.

‘Sorry.' Archer put his wine glass down and wrinkled his nose at Rosalina.

‘The cities of Florence and Siena had feuded over the rights to farm this region for a thousand years. Finally, around the year 1200AD, they agreed to a competition to put an end to the long running dispute. A challenge was put forward.' She paused, no doubt to ensure Archer was listening.

Archer inclined his head as if he knew the signal to get Nonna talking again.

‘The idea was that at the first morning crow of a rooster, one horseman would depart from Florence and one horseman would depart from Siena. Wherever they met would …
determinare
the boundary lines.' Nonna spoke as much with her hands as her voice. ‘The rooster was
necessario
, you see, because back then, how else could they communicate a starting time. But—,' she stabbed her finger in the air, ‘—the Siena people were a little
stupido
, because they chose a big fat rooster.' She puffed her cheeks and pumped her arms out to the side like big chicken wings.

‘However, we Florentines, being the wise ones, chose a starving black rooster. You see, Mr Mahoney, the starving rooster began to crow long before the happy fat one. So of course, our Florentine rider galloped off much earlier than his foolish rival.'

Nonna clasped her hands together again. ‘The Siena horseman, much to his surprise, no doubt, didn't ride very far before the two horsemen met. I give you comparison. Florence grabbed the barrel, while the Siena folk barely filled a thimble.' Nonna finished her fable with two fingers held an inch apart and a satisfied grin.

Archer laughed and clapped his hands. ‘That's fantastic. I love it.'

‘
Cin Cin
.' Nonna held her glass high.

‘
Cin Cin
.' Everyone else at the table raised their glasses too.

The sun was hovering high off the horizon when the city clock tower chimed seven o'clock. Rosalina excused herself from the table to freshen up and Archer jumped up too. ‘I'll come with you.'

They walked hand in hand back to the villa. ‘Your family are amazing, babe.'

‘Most of them.' She shrugged her shoulders. ‘Filippo's behaviour was appalling.' When she had an opportunity to get Filippo alone she had every intention of telling him so.

‘Yeah, he's not one of my greatest fans.'

They passed through the kitchen doorway and Rosalina tried to ignore the mountain of dishes piled high in the sink. ‘It's not you Filippo resents, honey. It's me.'

‘You. What did you do?'

She sighed. ‘Come on up to my bedroom, there's something you should know.'

He huffed. ‘Sounds a little daunting.'

‘Yeah. I guess it is.' She didn't feel comfortable talking about her family's dark secret, although given his history of harbouring life-shattering family secrets, Archer seemed like the perfect person to tell. It was a depressing quandary.

Rosalina led him to the bedroom that had been hers since the day she was born, and as she'd predicted Nonna hadn't moved a single thing while she'd been away. No matter how far, or how long she was abroad, Villa Pandolfini would always be her home and Nonna made certain of that by maintaining her room as she had left it.

‘Have a seat, I'll be back in a minute.' She ducked into the bathroom. As she washed her hands, she glanced into the mirror and forced back the tears stinging her eyes. What she was about to tell Archer was something she'd lived with nearly her whole life, yet it still hurt like it had happened yesterday.

She dabbed cold water on her eyes, inhaled a deep calming breath and returned to her bedroom. Archer was sitting on her bed and holding a picture frame that he'd lifted from her side table.

‘Is this your father?'

She sat at his side and looked at the photo. Not that she needed to, Rosalina had long ago committed the picture to her memory. ‘Yes, this was taken the day before Mum died. It was the last time I ever saw him smile.' A tear trickled down her cheek.

‘Oh, Rosa, I'm so sorry.' He captured the tear with his thumb and wiped it on his trouser leg.

‘I've never told you how Mum died.' To even say those words aloud after all these years still cut a slice from her heart.

Archer cocked his head and frowned. ‘No, I guess you haven't. You only ever speak of Nonna.'

Rosalina swallowed the lump in her throat. ‘Mum died giving birth to Filippo.'

‘Oh no.'

‘She was thirty-eight and I can still picture her as my incredibly vibrant, loving mother. To look at her you'd never have guessed her age.' Rosalina turned over the picture frame and slid aside the clips that held the picture in place. She felt Archer's gaze but he remained silent.

The back of the frame came away and as it did, a silver chain tumbled into her lap. She grabbed it before it slipped onto the floor. She realigned it so the tiny pendant on the chain was centred in her palm. The woman embossed into the front of the silver disk wasn't particularly beautiful, and Rosalina had always thought she appeared more ghostly than saintly. She didn't need to turn it over to know what was on the back. She'd long ago memorised the encryption:
Oh God, help me to see through the eyes of St. Rita. Help me to forgive my enemies. Give me the strength of faith, devotion and passion.
Rosalina had always questioned the strange choice of saints that her mum chose. She couldn't picture her mum ever having enemies. ‘Do you know what this is?'

Archer shook his head.

‘This is Saint Rita, the Patron Saint of Forgiveness. I was terrified about Mum going to hospital to have the baby. I was young, just seven, and for some reason it scared me. Mum gave me this bracelet to hang onto until she returned with my new baby brother or sister.' She released a long, heavy sigh. ‘She never returned.'

Archer wrapped his arms around her and Rosalina felt the warmth of his body against hers. ‘My father was never the same after that. He blamed Filippo for her death and from that moment on, he treated me as his youngest child. I was terrible for allowing that to happen.'

‘You can't blame yourself for your father's behaviour.'

She sat back and rolled the silver chain around her palm with her finger. ‘Nobody knows I have this. My father looked for it for months after Mum passed away and I didn't want to give it to him. It's been hiding here, with the photo of my dad, ever since.'

Archer reached for the bracelet. ‘Well, it's time it came out.' He undid the clasp.

Horrified, she pushed backwards on the bed. ‘No, Archer, I can't.'

‘Honey.' He cupped her chin and raised her head so she had no choice but to look into his eyes. Their usual smiling impression was gone, replaced instead with deep concern. ‘Your mother would've wanted you to wear it.'

Would she? Rosalina rolled the statement around in her head as St Rita swung from side to side in his hands like a hypnotist's shiny device. Her mind slipped to that moment, in this very room, when her mother had removed the chain from her wrist and folded it in Rosalina's palm. She recalled her mother's words as if she'd spoken them this morning: ‘Don't worry about me, darling. Having a baby is the most natural, beautiful thing a woman can do.' Rosalina had believed her at the time. But ever since she passed away, the idea of having a baby scared her beyond belief. Archer needed to know that.

‘Rosa, we're putting this on. This is a special day for us and this is the best way to have your mother here too.'

‘But there's—'

‘No. Stop. You're wearing this. Now, which wrist would you like it on?'

‘I guess you're right.' She raised her left arm and while he did the clasp she glanced in the mirror behind her dresser. Her red-rimmed eyes looked hideous. ‘Oh God, I look terrible.'

‘You look wonderful.' He leant in to kiss her, just a brief touch of their lips. ‘Now, come on. Let's dance off some of that food before we're forced to eat any more.'

‘Now?'

‘Yes now. It'll put you back in the right mood.' He reached for her hand, tugged her to her feet, and by the determined look in his eyes she knew there was no choice.

‘Okay, but not too long. They're all waiting for us at the table.'

Archer led her up the stairs to the third floor. Nine months ago, when she'd first taken Archer to the ballroom, she'd been embarrassed by the neglected area. For nearly a decade the grand room, once the picture of elegance and celebration, had been used as nothing but storage space. The dust that covered the beautifully polished floorboards had been heartbreaking enough, let alone the collection of cloth-covered furniture abandoned in the corner.

Archer pushed through the double doors and the refreshing smell of pine caught her attention first. Someone had cleaned the floors. Archer flicked on the lights and her eyes widened in bewilderment as hundreds of fairy lights lit up the room. The furniture was gone and the fireplace at the far end, that hadn't been lit in years, was dancing with flames.

Rosalina covered her gaping mouth as she slowly scanned the room. ‘Oh, Archer, did you do this?'

With one foot forward, he held his hand towards her. ‘May I have this dance?'

She swallowed back overwhelming tears of happiness and could barely breathe as she stepped towards Archer and accepted his request. As he cupped her hand, she fitted into the warmth of his other hand as he placed it on the small of her back. With a twinkle in his eye he led her onto the dance floor and twirled her around the freshly polished floorboards with an elegance that belied his rugged appearance. After a few dips and twirls that literally had her head spinning, he pulled her close so their bodies moulded together. ‘I love you, babe.'

‘I love you too.' She reached up on her tippy toes to kiss him.

‘Alright, you two.' Rosa turned to see her oldest sister and husband step into the room. ‘Stop hogging the dance floor.' Her brother-in-law took Francesca in his arms and dashed her across the dance floor towards Rosalina and Archer.

As they arrived at their side, Archer leant over to kiss Francesca on the cheek. ‘Thank you for all your help, Francesca. I couldn't have done this without you.'

Rosalina gasped at her sister. ‘You sneaky little thing.' She playfully slapped Archer's chest. ‘You two are in so much trouble for keeping this from me.'

‘Can't believe we did it so quickly, but
complimenti
to you, little sis,' Francesca said. ‘We're so happy for you two. I hope you enjoy your little engagement party
il mio dolce
.' Francesca turned to her husband. ‘Quickly, darling, take me away before that ring on Rosalina's finger blinds me forever.'

‘Thank you, Fran, you're the best.' As her sister was whisked away, Rosalina twisted her diamond around her finger and was captured by its beauty in the twinkling fairy lights.

‘My turn to dance with the lady,' Jimmy demanded as he strode through the doors. Rosalina recognised his voice, but that was about all. Her mouth fell open. Jimmy, dressed in a tuxedo, looked truly debonair. He'd even slicked back his hair.

‘Jimmy?' She uttered his name as he walked across the floor towards her.

He assumed his position as her dance partner. ‘I scrub up pretty good, don't I?' He spun her around with a few clunky moves that had her laughing.

‘Oh, Jimmy, you have to stop, I'm getting dizzy.'

He clutched her to his chest. ‘Shall we tango?'

‘I'm not sure—'

She hadn't finished her sentence before he forced her to move with him. They strode towards the fireplace at such a pace she wondered if he'd stop. He did, and when he spun her around she couldn't believe what she was seeing. As a four-piece band started setting up in the corner, her family trickled in through the doorway and began dancing in pairs around the room.

‘Aha, my date has arrived,' Jimmy said as he dipped her backwards and then just as quickly yanked her upright again.

Confused, she glanced at Jimmy hoping he would finish his statement. Instead he gripped her again and strode with her across the dance floor to meet Archer on the other side. Jimmy cast her off into Archer's waiting arms and strode off in the opposite direction. ‘This is the most amazing thing you've ever done for me, Arch. Thank you.'

‘You're the one who's amazing.' He kissed her and resumed his dance hold. ‘Shall we?'

She laughed. ‘Yes please.'

Archer glided her over the dance floor as if they floated on air. At every possibility he stopped to make sure she said hello to everyone in the room.

Out the corner of her eye, she saw Jimmy take Nonna into his arms. Rosalina said a silent prayer, hoping he'd treat her gently. Nonna would likely snap in half with Jimmy's spinning moves.

A woman walked into the room who made Rosalina gasp. ‘Tracy? Oh my God, it is you.' Tracy squealed and bounded across the room to her.

‘How did you get here? When did—'

‘It was all Archer's doing.' Tracy wrapped her arms around Rosalina and she squeezed her best friend she'd left behind in Australia. Leaving her nearly a year ago had been one of the hardest things to do.