She gave his arm a slight pressure.

‘Sometimes the only way you can show how much you love someone is to let them go.’

Lisa’s funeral was held three days later. The whole family was there to see her coffin, covered with flowers, being laid to rest. Despite what Celia had said, Della couldn’t help wondering what Hope was feeling now. Had the past come back to her, making her heart ache with its loss? Had Franco, too, become sharply aware of what had come and gone?

But Franco’s eyes were fixed unwaveringly on the coffin, and his expression was heart-rending. Della stole a glance at Hope, but Hope was looking at Toni.

On the surface life went on as before. The society apologised that Celia’s new dog would not be ready as soon as hoped, but Francesco seemed untroubled by the delay.

Things had reached a strange pass between them. They were lovers again, spending nights in each other’s arms, just as in the past, yet they never spoke of the future, and an air of impermanence hung over them. There were still decisions to be made, but neither of them wanted to face them for a while.

‘We’re cowards,’ she murmured dozily one night, from the shelter of his arms.

‘What’s wrong with that?’ he wanted to know. ‘We’ve tried being brave, and nuts to it.’

She giggled and blissfully snuggled down farther. The big problems still lurked outside the tent, but in the meantime there was a lot to be said for cowardice.

She supposed it was a sign of losing her nerve that she often kept her cellphone turned off, lest the call come from L’Esperienza, demanding that she make her dive from a helicopter. She owed it to the firm that she’d promised to support, but she didn’t want to face that decision yet. Eventually she would feel guilty and turn it on again.

In the end the decision was taken out of her hands, when she slipped up to the flat above to return a CD, assuring Francesco that she could manage that little distance alone. It was half an hour before she returned, having got caught up in cheerful gossip.

‘There was a phone call for you,’ Francesco informed her. ‘A journalist wanting to know when you’d be ready to go skydiving. He says he has a space in the paper all ready, and it can be a good story, but it has to be you, not Sandro.’

‘What did you tell him?’ she asked.

‘I told him I thought you were free any time, and you’d call back tonight to fix the date.’

Astonishment held her silent, staring.

‘You told him I’d go skydiving?’ she echoed in disbelief.

‘Yes-and could you call him back quickly? Because he’s going out, and he wants to get it settled.’

He left the room abruptly, before his resolve weakened and he said what he really thought-that she must commit herself quickly before he broke down and begged her not to do it.

It was his mother who had given him the clue, saying, ‘Sometimes the only way you can show how much you love someone is to let them go.’

He’d heard the words without truly realising what they meant. Now he discovered the reality for himself, and it was terrible. Sweat stood out on his brow, and he had to call on all his stubbornness.

Stubbornness had never failed him before, he thought wryly.

After a while she came to find him.

‘Is it all settled?’ he asked with forced brightness.

‘Yes, I’m going tomorrow. But, Francesco, did you mean it?’

He managed a laugh. ‘It’s a bit late if I didn’t.’

‘But why?’

‘Does it matter why? I won’t fight you any more about anything you want to do. I give in. Do what you feel you must. I’ll see things your way.’ He added with light irony, ‘You’ll observe that I make better jokes about it these days.’

She wanted to cry out a protest at the pain she could sense beneath the wit. She didn’t want him to give in. That wasn’t his way. But neither did she know how she did want it to happen.

He increased her discomfiture a moment later when he said, ‘All those years of watching Toni with Hope have taught me a few things about graceful yielding.’

‘No,’ she said at once. ‘Not like that. You’re not Toni. He’s happy that way, but you never could be.’

‘You know your trouble?’ he said. ‘You don’t know how to accept winning.’

‘But-’

‘I’m hungry. How about something to eat?’

Francesco made it impossible for her to pursue the subject. Only when they were getting ready for bed did he say, ‘You can send your driver for tomorrow away. I’ll take you to the airfield myself.’

‘Is that really a good idea?’

‘You mean, you don’t trust me?’ he asked, as lightly as he could manage. ‘You think I’ll back off at the last minute?’

She had briefly wondered. But while she sought for an answer, he said softly, ‘I think I’ve earned better than that by now.’

‘Oh, darling!’ She reached for him. ‘I’m sorry. I didn’t really mean to suggest-’

‘Yes, you did,’ he said without resentment. ‘You always do. And maybe I deserved it once. But I’ve learned a lot. The trouble is, I don’t think you’ve noticed.’

‘Yes, I-’ She stopped as the truth of this hit her. She had noticed how much easier it was to relax with him these days, but only in a vague way. Preoccupied with herself, she had missed much that she should have seen.

‘Never mind,’ he said, drawing her close. ‘I’ll drive you down there tomorrow-if I may?’

‘I’d love you to come-if you’re sure you won’t get too upset.’

‘I won’t make any trouble,’ he said, interpreting her correctly.

Celia kissed him again and again, full of contrition and love and something that was more than either. She didn’t understand it at first, but then she sensed his heart beating against hers, so close together that it was one beat. And suddenly she felt everything that he was feeling-sadness, dread, the fear of losing her, but most of all the fear of offending her.

Pain for him was so intense that it almost deprived her of the power of speech. She could only murmur, ‘Darling, darling…’

But words weren’t enough. Only actions could express the depth of her love, and she tried to show him with ardour and tenderness.

That night their lovemaking was like never before. It was as though they were open to each other in new ways, speaking silently of secrets never shared.

The first time they had loved had been a night of discovery as they’d explored each other’s bodies and hearts. Now it was as though they were discovering each other again, with new intensity and sweetness, but also with a new knowledge that cast doubt over the future. The time was coming when a final decision must be made, and the thought of what that decision might be made every movement and caress mean a thousand times more.

When at last they lay quietly together, he whispered, ‘Promise to come back to me-until the next time.’

So he understood about the next time, and recognised that it was inevitable, she thought. That should be a help, but mysteriously it was a new source of pain.

‘Of course I’ll come back,’ she said. ‘I always do.’

He didn’t answer, and she reached out to caress his face, relishing the details, the high forehead and the strong jaw, the mouth with its unexpected sensitivity.

‘Darling?’ she murmured. ‘Darling?’

Then she realised that he had gone to sleep, his arms still about her, and she felt a curious sense of delight.

‘It’s all right,’ she whispered. ‘Just stay there. I’ll take care of you.’

She stroked his hair, relishing its springy feel in her hands, wondering at the surge of protectiveness that went through her.

Blind in one way, blind in another, she thought, condemning herself. If you can’t see other people it’s easy to forget their needs.

It would have been so easy to do the dramatic thing and tell him that she had changed her mind and would stay safely on the ground. But she knew she couldn’t do that. All her life she’d fought for her precious independence, wounding herself in the process, but never until now seeing the wounds of others. Even now something that was essential to her true self wouldn’t let her yield, though he’d generously shown her the way by yielding first. That was the truth of it.

And yet something had changed. Now she understood how much he was in her hands, how cruelly she could make him suffer-far more than he could ever inflict on her.

She leaned down, kissing him gently, not to awaken him.

‘Forgive me,’ she whispered. ‘Forgive me for what I can’t help.’

CHAPTER TWELVE

AS THEY drove to the airfield next morning Francesco asked lightly, ‘Why are you and Mamma thick as thieves these days?’

‘Not just us. Olympia and Polly, too, and Della, when she’s here instead of hunting backgrounds for her series. There’s a big party to be planned for the wedding anniversary.’

‘I’d forgotten. How many years is it?’

‘Thirty-five. Hope says she and Toni always celebrate in style, but this year it’s going to be special. It’s all being planned well in advance, so that everyone has time to get here, wherever in the world they live. It’s going to be the party to end all parties.’

He thought, but didn’t say, Let’s hope you’re still alive to be there.

But she could read his thoughts. ‘And I’m going to be there, too. I’ve promised Hope that when this jump is over I’ll concentrate on the party. You know, it’s lovely the way she’s welcomed me into the family. In fact, they all have.’

‘Maybe they’re trying to tell you something.’

‘Maybe. I know they’ve turned this jump into a family occasion. Hope and Toni are going to be there, also Carlo and Della, and maybe some of the others.’

When they reached the airfield Francesco dropped Celia by the steps into the main building and gave her into the hands of a young woman who would help her change. When she had gone inside he turned to find Carlo and Della approaching him. With his new sharp eyes Francesco saw how Carlo had his arm protectively around Della’s shoulders, but so lightly that she wouldn’t feel it as a constraint.

‘Are you all right?’ Carlo asked, giving him a meaningful glance.

Francesco grimaced. ‘Surviving.’

‘She’ll be fine,’ Della told him. ‘Women are a lot tougher than men allow for. In fact, the truth is that we’re a lot tougher than men, full-stop. Isn’t that so, caro?’

‘Yes, dear,’ Carlo said in a comically robotic voice. ‘No, dear. Anything you say, dear.’

‘You two are turning into Mamma and Poppa,’ Francesco observed.

Carlo grinned, not in the least offended by the comparison. He drew his wife closer and dropped a swift kiss on the top of her head.

‘I’ve got him well trained.’ Della chuckled. ‘You’d better watch out. Celia will have you in line in no time.’

‘She already has, or we wouldn’t be here,’ Carlo said. ‘Francesco, we’ll see you later.’

They wandered off, arms entwined.

Francesco watched them, wondering if he and Celia would ever reach such a pitch of perfect understanding. Or would today be the end of everything, one way or another?

Then he saw the door open and Sandro come out, led by his dog, with Celia’s hand tucked in his arm. He brought her over, followed by a man dressed in the same kind of gear Celia was wearing. Relieved, Francesco recognised Sandro’s skydiving partner from the previous occasion.

‘Just dropped by to tell you not to worry,’ he told Francesco. ‘Celia and I will jump out together, and I won’t let her go until I know she’s safe.’

‘Who’s worried?’ Francesco said cheerfully. ‘But, thanks.’

‘We’ll be back for you in a few minutes,’ Sandro told Celia, and the two men departed discreetly.

‘Everything all right?’ Francesco asked. He did his best to sound cheerful, but he could hear the strain in his own voice and doubted he was enough of an actor to hide it.

‘Everything’s fine,’ she said, sounding too polite, too cautious. She was making allowances in case he backed off.

He grew frantic. He must convince her that he was really behind her in this. It had never been as important as now.

‘That huge thing on your back is your parachute?’ he said, putting as much interest in his voice as possible. ‘How do you open it?’

‘This ring, here-in the front. I just pull it and the parachute opens.’

Suppose it didn’t open? It might not and then she’d crash to earth and die. He must stop this madness, for her sake.

But the desperate thoughts that screamed through his head stayed silent on the outside. Instead, he asked brightly, ‘What about the other bits and pieces? There are too many to count.’

‘This is my two-way radio, so that someone on the ground can warn me if I look like I’m coming down in the wrong place. I can guide the parachute in different directions using these rings. And don’t worry-I know exactly where they are and can find them easily.’