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      ‘I’ll come back for Raffi’s funeral and to see you, Papà and Serena. But I’m not promising any more than that.’

      ‘Why must you be so difficult? So headstrong?’ Viviana demanded.

      Headstrong? Melinda nearly laughed. She wasn’t the one who drove fast cars and fast boats and fast planes, who went through money as if a fresh supply could be printed every day, or whose champagne bill was legendary. She was the one who’d always been quiet, bookish, who’d spent her time in the stables and the kennels. Raffi was the headstrong one and Serena was the one who wore pretty dresses and had beautiful manners and charmed people. Melinda was the odd one out, and everyone knew it. A very square peg whose corners just couldn’t be rubbed off to make her fit the role they wanted her to take.

      A role she didn’t want.

      A role she’d never wanted.

      ‘Mamma, I am too tired to argue. I can’t fly out tonight. I’ll talk to George, then I’ll catch a flight from here to London tomorrow and from London to…’ She thought rapidly. Palermo was nearer to Contarini, but Naples was probably a little more discreet. ‘To Napoli. I’ll text you to let you know my flight times, d’accordo?’

      ‘Then we will see you tomorrow.’

      And that was it. The line went dead. No ‘I love you’. No warmth or affection. Just as it had always been when she had been growing up—her parents had always been too busy and their duty had come first.

      Maybe, she thought, if Viviana and Alessandro Fortesque had spent more time with their children, Raffi would have learned to control his impulses.

      Gritting her teeth, she dialled her boss’s number. She knew the burly vet would be understanding, but she still hated the fact that she was letting him down.

      ‘George? I’m sorry to bother you on your night off.’ She took a deep breath. ‘My mother just called. I need to go home for a few days.’

      ‘Something’s wrong?’

      ‘My brother…died. In a car crash.’ It felt weird, saying it. And she felt cold, so cold. She really needed Dragan. Needed to feel his arms round her.

      ‘Oh, love, I’m so sorry. Of course you have to go. Look, I can cover for you tonight. Go now. Don’t worry about a thing.’

      Dear George. She could have hugged him. ‘I can’t get a flight until tomorrow anyway. I’ll still do tonight on call. But if I could leave first thing in the morning—and I’ll write down a list of my patients and what have you—that’d be…’ She swallowed hard. ‘That’d be really appreciated.’

      ‘Are you on your own? Do you want me to come over, or do you want to come over to us?’

      George, his wife and four children lived in a sprawling old farmhouse just outside Penhally. At the Smiths’, you could always be sure of a warm welcome, a cat to curl on your lap in the big farmhouse kitchen and a dog to sit by your feet.

      ‘No, no. I’ll be fine. I’m, um…Dragan is keeping me company this evening. I’m hoping I don’t get another callout because I have Cassidy here.’

      ‘Violet’s parrot? Why?’

      ‘I think he ate some chocolate and his system’s reacting to it.’

      ‘Chocolate’s poisonous to parrots—as well as to dogs,’ George said.

      ‘Essatamente. So he needs nursing here in a heated cage for a few days. I’ve given him the electrolyte powders tonight, but he’ll need them twice a day and a gradual return to his normal diet.’

      ‘Leave me your treatment plan and I’ll ask Sally to come in early tomorrow and take over,’ George said.

      Melinda was happy that the practice nurse would follow the treatment plan exactly. And she was so experienced that she’d probably seen a few sick parrots in her time: Melinda often thought Sally knew as much as the vets did. ‘George, thank you so much. I really hate it that I’m letting you down. And if I’m not back by Saturday—’

      ‘Then young Tina Chamberlain can shadow me for the morning. She might like to come and see what we do with the livestock, so she sees the other side of the practice and not just the small-animal work,’ George finished. ‘I’ll clear it with Lizzie first. Don’t worry about a thing. Just ring me if you need me or there’s anything I can do, all right? And we’ll see you when we see you.’

      ‘Thank you, George.’

      She’d just put the phone down when the doorbell rang.

      Dragan.

      She went down to meet him and unlock the door; he followed her back up the stairs to her small kitchen, carrying two wrapped parcels. ‘Sorry I was so long. There was a queue, and then I had to wait for fresh chips. But at least they’re really hot,’ he said with a smile. And then he frowned, taking in her expression. ‘What’s wrong, Melinda? Cassidy’s worse?’

      ‘No.’ She dragged in a breath. ‘My mother called. My brother…’ She rubbed a hand over her face. She still couldn’t quite believe it. ‘He died yesterday after a car accident.’

      ‘Oh, Melinda.’ He put the fish and chips on the worktop and held her close. ‘I’m so sorry.’

      ‘I have to go back.’

      ‘Of course you do. How are you getting there?’

      ‘I haven’t booked a flight yet. But I’ll take the first one I can get tomorrow from Newquay to Gatwick, and then Gatwick to Naples.’

      Dragan could remember the feeling. The black hole inside when he realised he’d lost his entire family. That he was the only one left. And although he realised that Melinda wasn’t close to her own family, he knew she would do the right thing. She’d go back and help her family with the funeral, comfort her parents.

      Though it was a tough thing to do on your own. Especially when you felt you didn’t fit in—the one thing she had admitted to him over the last few months.

      ‘Do you want me to come with you?’ he asked, stroking her hair. ‘For support?’

      ‘Bless you for asking, but no. I can do this.’

      But her expression was grim. She was clearly dreading this. ‘Melinda, you’re not on your own,’ he said softly. ‘You have me. And if there’s anything I can do, all you have to do is say so.’

      ‘Right now, just hold me. Please.’ Her voice sounded hoarse, broken—as if she was trying to hold back her tears. Typical Melinda, being brave and not leaning on anyone else.

      ‘Let the tears come, piccola,’ he said softly. ‘They will help.’

      She dragged in a breath. ‘Right now I feel like the most selfish, horrible woman in the world.’

      ‘Why?’ He really didn’t follow. Ignoring the fish and chips, he led her over to the sofa and settled her on his lap.

      ‘Because you…you’ve lost your family. And you were close to them. I’m not close to mine—and I feel horrible telling you that, because I have what you’ve lost and I don’t want you to think I’m just…oh…not appreciating it, throwing it all away like a toddler having a tantrum with her toys.’

      ‘Of course I don’t. I’d already guessed you weren’t close to them. But it doesn’t make me love you any less. Not all families are like mine—I see plenty of difficult relationships in my job,’ he reminded her. ‘Let me go with you, tesoro. So at least you have someone on your side.’

      For a moment he thought she was going to say yes. But then she shook her head. ‘I won’t drag you into all this mess. And I…I could strangle Raffi for being so reckless, so stupid. And my parents, for not letting me say goodbye to him. The accident happened

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