‘Work?’ Charlotte asked, ears pricking up. ‘I hope this doesn’t involve any over-the-top presents for Gina…’ She had visions of gigantic games consoles and home cinemas crowding the bedroom. Sometimes fathers with limitless supplies of money could be impractical when it came to giving presents to their offspring, and Riccardo, seeing himself as the wounded party who had been denied his child for eight years, might just find himself strolling down that inappropriate route. She would have to nip it in the bud.
‘We know, don’t we, Gina, that pressies are for special occasions only. Birthdays…Christmas…maybe a reward for something out of the ordinary.’
Gina failed to give support to this theory, and Charlotte frowned at her until she said, glumly, ‘Yes, Mum.’
‘Thoroughly commendable!’ Riccardo agreed, and Charlotte looked at him suspiciously. ‘It’s crazy to buy things for kids just because you can afford to! Takes away their motivation to succeed and doesn’t teach them how to value money.’
Gina sighed in resignation.
‘So if none of that in the house is anything to do with Gina…’
‘Oh, but I never said that it had nothing to do with Gina. Look, we’re here.’ He leant towards his daughter and pointed out of the window as the taxi slowed in front of a very exclusive-looking sports centre. ‘Nice swimming pool. How do you fancy a swim?’
‘But I didn’t bring a swimsuit.’
‘With a little luck you can get one inside. It’s a small shop but well stocked. Caters for eight-year-old kids who forget to bring their swimsuits.’
‘Riccardo…’
‘We’ll talk in a minute.’
‘Okay…’ They walked inside the very small, very intimate sports centre where it became immediately apparent that Riccardo was the owner. ‘The minute’s up. Now, tell me what the heck’s happening inside my house while we…while we relax in your private little health spa!’ She stood still and folded her arms, refusing to go a step further.
‘It’s not my private little health spa, although I do admit membership is by invitation only.’
‘Well…?’
‘Well, I would have preferred it to be a surprise, but…guess what?’ He looked down at Gina whose ears had pricked up at the word ‘surprise’. Then he stooped down to her level, forcing Charlotte to bend down so that she could hear what he had to say, although she was beginning to have an inkling of an idea. ‘Your mum’s had you all to herself for eight years, and it wasn’t her fault, but…’ and he took his daughter’s hand and covered it with both of his ‘…now that I’m here, I would very much like to move in so that I can share every day with you.’
Gina beamed and flung her arms around him. Above, he heard a strangulated sound and decided to ignore it. The feeling of his daughter’s head pressed into the curve of his neck was answer enough that he had done the right thing.
‘Whoa!’ Charlotte managed to croak out. ‘Stop right there!’
‘Mum! I’m going to have my very own dad at home!’
‘Gina…’ Since Riccardo was showing no signs of standing up, Charlotte reluctantly knelt alongside him, but at an awkward angle because of the narrowness of her skirt. ‘I think you’ll find that perhaps your very own dad hasn’t quite thought the matter through.’
‘What do you mean, Mum?’
‘Maybe we should sit down and discuss this, honey.’ The dark brown eyes were beginning to look a little anxious, but Gina nodded and Charlotte led the way, walking briskly over to one of the little circular tables by the bar area. It was comfortable and agreeably empty, just a few businessmen relaxing in the corner, and an elegant foursome of wealthy mummies decked out in very tight designer keep-fit gear. With well-bred good manners, none of them glanced in their direction although they must have been curious.