sorry for her now. Was there anything you didn’t share with her?’
There was one thing, thought Ellie. Something she hadn’t told anyone. Something she guarded with every fibre of her being.
She looked over at her sister, saw her sniff. ‘Want another tissue?’ she asked. ‘I’ve got lavender and chamomile as well.’
Abby let out a small laugh. ‘Sure. Why not?’ She blew her nose again, loudly. ‘Right. Are you ready?’
Ellie nodded. As Abby continued along the road, Ellie had a sudden realization. That was probably the first time Abby had confided in her. Ever.
Then a second thunderbolt hit her. If her sister was supposed to want to harm her, why had she just saved her life?
FIFTY-NINE
Matteo listened to his wife’s phone go straight to voicemail for the second time that night.
‘Call again,’ said Baroni.
‘What’s the point? It’s obviously switched off.’
‘Where are they?’ Baroni stomped across the gravel to the entrance of the Palacio Hotel, not caring, it seemed, if Abby and Ellie were to drive in. Except they wouldn’t, thought Matteo. They should’ve arrived hours ago. Santini was sitting on a wall, smoking.
Baroni spun around, fixed Matteo with an accusatory glare. ‘Did you call her again earlier? Tell her about this?’ She waved her arm at the hotel.
‘When was I supposed to do that? I’ve been with you the entire time.’
Baroni glowered at him, then stared out at the dark road. ‘They’re not coming. They’ve either changed their minds or . . .’ She shrugged in frustration.
Or what? thought Matteo. That was the trouble. Something had happened to his wife to make her change her plan to meet him and he couldn’t think of one positive explanation as to what that might be. Which left him with only a dark sense of foreboding.
SIXTY
Susanna had needed a drink after her mother had left. She’d looked through Abby’s kitchen cupboards until she’d found a bottle of wine and then searched in frustration for a corkscrew. The wine was warm so she’d added a handful of ice cubes to the large glass and taken several great gulps. Then she’d laid her hands on the counter and allowed herself to think about what had just happened.
Everything will go to me. It was huge – millions. The house itself was worth five million, the business – well, she had no idea, but it would be another significant chunk. She would never have to worry about money again.
Susanna picked up her glass and made her way outside to the terrace. It was late now and the crickets had quietened. Peace reigned. The stars were out. Susanna stared up at them, thinking what a perfect place this was. How it might now be possible for her to own such a place. To never have to live through a British winter again. To pack in her menial job. She could do anything; she’d never be fearful of what her future held. It was like a fairy tale with a happy ending.
Her mother was sorry. That’s what she’d said. She’d actually admitted that she’d been a poor parent, that she’d treated her own daughter badly. Old memories came flooding back and Susanna took another gulp of wine. It was so long ago. She found herself looking at the olive tree next to her on the terrace. Her eyes sought out a branch, quite thin and without any burrs or small twigs attached to it as they hurt so much. It wasn’t too thin as that was another mistake. If she chose a branch that was too slight, her mother would make her pick another, something with more weight. Susanna instinctively rubbed her fingers against her palms, remembering the lashings. If she couldn’t list the capital cities of Europe or recite her times tables. Her mother had said it would focus her attention.
As Susanna had got older the physical punishments had lessened but the control had been tighter. Kathleen had very strict ideas on which friends her daughter saw and boys were taboo. She went to an all-girls private school and wasn’t allowed out after nine o’clock at night – even in her late teens. After school was completed, she was brought into the fold of the business, under the tutelage of her father’s right-hand man.
Susanna hated it all but was too terrified to change anything. She didn’t know how. Once, when she had said she was meeting a friend from school on a Saturday evening, her parents had found out she’d actually gone for a drink with a boy. In