The Correttis (Books 1-8). Кейт Хьюит

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СКАЧАТЬ never ask you to lie. I just don’t think they need to know everything. The Corretti name has a long history—it might not go down too well. You know how shocked I was when I found out who you were working for. That name is one that strikes fear into a lot of people and especially in my village.’

      And finally, finally, there was something to talk about, a common ground they could share. Maybe her trip to Italy was worth it, because at last there was a mutual link. ‘That family is dangerous,’ her mother warned.

      ‘I think things are very different now.’

      ‘There are no changes. I saw on the news that the wedding between the Corretti and Battaglia families didn’t go ahead.’ Ella smiled, because since she had been a little girl her mother always had the Italian radio on. The one thing Ella had been able to do for her mother, to make her life a little more pleasurable, was to get satellite television so that she could watch the Italian news, which Gabriella did, all of the time. ‘I remember only too well Salvatore’s sons…’

      ‘Carlo and Benito?’

      ‘Morto!’ her mum said. ‘I still remember the night they died. My sister rang and I turned on the news….Don’t you remember?’ And a memory unfurled then. Ella would have been about twenty. She could see her mother standing by the television screen, shouting, a huge warehouse fire being shown on the news. It had meant nothing to Ella at the time, but it meant so much more now. She listened more carefully than she had back then as her mother spoke of that night. ‘It was no accident, whatever anyone says.’

      ‘They were killed?’ Ella felt a shiver run down her spine.

      ‘Who knows?’ Gabriella said. ‘They have a lot of enemies. Some people said it could have been an insurance scam that went wrong. These are the people you are dealing with—you should remember that at all times.’

      ‘Santo is nothing like that,’ Ella said.

      ‘Please,’ her mother scoffed. ‘He is Carlo’s son. He could be no other way. Carlo was obsessed with power, with money, with women—he could not stay faithful to his wife for even five minutes. Oh, but he was a charmer too.’ Maybe Santo did take after his father after all. ‘Salvatore was the worst.’

      ‘Did he cheat too?’

      ‘Who knows?’ Gabriella said again. ‘He was just pure bad—the Battaglia family too. How they ever slept at night with their consciences…’ Gabriella said. ‘Their wives were as bad too. Lording over everyone as if they were royalty, holding their fancy dinner parties. Your aunt worked in the kitchen of Salvatore’s wife, Teresa, once for a dinner party. Their money was filthy—you ask your aunts. They will tell you—oh, the stories you will hear….’ Then her voice cracked as a huge pang of homesickness hit. Gabriella missed her sisters so very much, but it wasn’t just them. She missed her home, her village and her history too. ‘I wish I could speak with them. I mean, I know we speak on the phone but I want to see them. I wish I could be there when you all meet. I want to show you my village… .’

      ‘Mum…’ Ella’s voice was thick with unshed tears. ‘Why don’t you come over?’

      ‘Please, Ella, you know it is not possible.’

      ‘Just for a holiday. I will pay your airfare…’ But Ella stopped then. She was just repeating herself and, given it was her mother’s birthday, Ella didn’t pursue it further. She didn’t want to upset her today. ‘I’ll go and visit everyone soon and give them all your love.’

      ‘Let me know when you go, so I can ring them and tell them to expect you.’

      ‘Okay.’ Ella could not manage upbeat even a single second longer. ‘I really do have to get to work now. I love you, Mum.’

      ‘I love you too, Ella. Do you want to speak with your—’

      It was Ella who hung up.

      She was actually shaking with anger as she did so. That her mother could even suggest that she speak with her father after all that had gone on, that still she was supposed to pretend that terrible day had never happened.

      Yet it had.

      She could not break down again, but she could no longer pretend to forget either. She looked into the mirror, lifted her hair and saw the pink scar. The scar was proof that that day had happened. It was even there when she smiled. Those lovely white teeth had come at the most terrible price. Ella could still remember spitting her own teeth into her hand, but worse than that was the memory of the betrayal—that her mother could have forgiven him and stayed.

      That she could watch as her own daughter was beaten and, instead of calling the police, had stood there sobbing and screaming. Instead of calling for an ambulance, she had handed Ella ice packs and told the story to give to the dentist, to the doctor. Had told Ella that if she didn’t want to make it worse for her mother, then she must tell everyone that she fell.

      Ella needed to get out, to walk, to run. It was the reason she opened her door, for she would never have opened the door to Santo in this state. She wasn’t crying, but she was still shaking in anger, still holding in a scream that wanted to come out.

      ‘Ella?’

      She brushed past him, but he caught her wrist.

      ‘Please, Santo.’ She was having great trouble keeping her voice from shouting. ‘I was just about to go for a walk.’

      ‘Later…’ He simply could not let her walk off like this. He could see how upset she was.

      ‘I just need to get out for a while.’

      ‘Of course you do.’ Santo was very practical. ‘We all go a bit stir-crazy in the hotel after a few days. I’ll take you for a drive. I could use one too.’ He was not going to argue about this. He had come to visit Ella for rather more pressing reasons than a drive, but for once, work could wait.

      They drove, in silence at first, around the winding streets, but Santo drove the powerful car with far more finesse than Ella and it was actually nice to sit back and stare at the scenery.

      ‘It’s beautiful.’ Ella looked at the dotted beige buildings built into the hills and then they turned into a village. Another one, Santo explained, that was run-down and in much need of the new lease of life the redevelopment might bring.

      ‘There is only one café now,’ he explained, slowing the car down. Ella peered up a long set of steps. ‘Do you want to stop for a drink?’

      Ella shook her head.

      ‘There are only a couple of shops….’ She was starting to understand more and more the difference this movie could make. It was such a stunning part of the country. There were just picture-perfect views everywhere. Yet so many, like her mother, had left. She blinked and turned her head as she passed vaguely familiar buildings, recognising some of them from the photos her mother spent a long time reminiscing over.

      ‘This is my mother’s village.’

      ‘I know.’ Santo turned and smiled. ‘You could drop in on your aunts now.’

      ‘I don’t think so.’ Ella gave a tight smile.

      ‘Probably a good call,’ Santo said. ‘Your СКАЧАТЬ