Page 139 of Modern Romance June 2025 5-8

‘Yes,’ he said, closing his eyes in understanding. ‘Of course.Sì. Yes. We lived together in England. But not Italy.’

Ivy bobbed her head in agreement, the long chestnut layers of hair picking up the glimmer of the setting sun. ‘I suppose the assessor is going to expect us to know things about each other?’

Antonio nodded, before abruptly shooting a question at her. ‘What is your favourite colour?’ he demanded.

‘Red,’ Ivy replied, trying not to let his rapidly fired question throw her. It had been the easiest colour for her to see following the accident. Rich, vibrant, lipstick red. ‘You?’

‘Blue,’ he said, barely stopping to take a breath before asking, ‘How do you take your coffee?’

‘I don’t,’ she admitted. ‘I don’t really like the taste.’

Antonio spluttered. ‘But you worked in a coffee shop.’

This time she couldn’t help but laugh. ‘Not because I like coffee, Antonio. I just needed the money,’ she said.

He stared at her as if he were trying to reframe what he thought of her.

‘Va bene. Family?’ he pressed on.

‘One brother, Jamie,’ she said.

‘Parents?’

She sighed; the topic of her parents was always difficult. ‘We haven’t heard from our father in about ten years now. And our mother…she remarried and lives abroad,’ she replied, remembering the phone call from four years ago vividly.

‘I got married! To Ted! Oh, love. He’s just wonderful. He really is.’

‘When?’was all Ivy had been able to ask.

‘Last week. We didn’t want to bother you about it. Especially as it would have been so far for you to come.’

‘So far?’

‘Boston. I’m in Boston! We have to be here because Ted needs to be near his daughter.’

A daughter only two years younger than Jamie. And six years younger than her. Ivy swallowed. Her mother hadn’t even asked about Jamie, her own child. She hadn’t even asked how Ivy was, what she was doing, whether they needed anything.

‘You?’ she asked him to stave off any further delving into her personal life.

‘Family? Lots. Gio had five children. My mother, Alessia, was the eldest. The eldest son, also called Gio, passed away before I was born. Uncle Carlos was next, but he is unmarried with no children. There was Aunt Amalia, who Gio disinherited long before trying that on with me. She had the gall to marry an American actor, much to my grandfather’s horror. She had a son, our cousin Enzo, who we met for the first time at the funeral. And then the youngest is Uncle Luca, who is Maria’s father.’

Ivy swallowed. There was no way she was going to remember all that. And in the silence that settled between them, she wondered whether he realised that he’d listed his family by their importance to his grandfather.

‘So why the library?’

‘Mm?’ she asked, catching up with the back and forth of the conversation.

‘You work at the library. Is that just for money too?’ he asked.

‘Oh. No,’ she replied, a small smile gracing her lips. ‘Well, notonlyfor the money,’ she conceded. The library hadn’t been where Ivy imagined she would end up working, end up finding herpurpose. But it had been. ‘It’s an important part of the community,’ she said judiciously to Antonio. ‘It’s a place for people to come when they want to escape. It’s a shelter. It’s companionship.’

It’s a haven.

‘That’s noble,’ he mused.

‘You say that like you don’t believe in such a thing.’

Antonio shrugged, refusing to get drawn in further.

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