‘I never saw him or heard from him again. I ran away from home and caught the ferry to England.’
‘When did he die?’
Eva pursed her lips and then shrugged a delicate shoulder. ‘It was quite recent. In fact it was only a few months ago. But please don’t get the idea that I deprived you of the chance of knowing him. He wouldn’t have admitted you were his. He would have refused to have anything to do with you.’
‘If anything, your mother was protecting you from the hurt of that knowledge and rejection,’ Gustav opined. ‘Regrettably, your father was not a pleasant character.’
Harriet studied the older man with an unease she tried to conceal. ‘You seem to know a lot about my background.’
‘I have no secrets from Gustav,’ Eva proclaimed.
Harriet tried not to think of the secrets that had been kept from her. ‘May I ask what my father’s name was?’
‘Cavaliere.’ Eva tilted her chin as she said that name. ‘Now perhaps you’ll understand why I want your parentage to remain a secret.’
As still as a stone carving, Harriet stared with fixed attention at the older woman. She could not credit that she had heard a name she recognised and, of all names, that particular one which had such deep personal significance. ‘Cavaliere?’ She had to say it twice before sound actually emerged from her lips. ‘Cavaliere?’
‘Valente Cavaliere. I dare say you’ve never heard of him,’ Eva contended brightly. ‘But in his day he was a famous international tycoon. He married the daughter of the big house outside Ballyflynn and divorced her when she had an affair. She was always ill. He used to visit with his child.’
Gustav was frowning with distaste. ‘Cavaliere was a notorious womaniser. In his lifetime he was involved in some very sordid scandals.’
Harriet was so rigid with tension that she was afraid a sudden movement might break her into a host of little pieces. Her mother had referred to Valente Cavaliere’s fame in a bright, almost boastful tone that was horribly inappropriate. Tension pounded behind her brow. Unable to think straight, she sat as if she was frozen in time. Cavaliere. That name had gone into her mind and there it lodged, like a ship caught in a whirlpool. Round and round the name went inside her buzzing head, and her skin turned clammy, perspiration beading her short upper lip.
‘You remind me of your father. You always have,’ Eva said almost sweetly. ‘You have the same problem with your weight.’
‘Valente Cavaliere?’ With pronounced care, Harriet vocalised every syllable of that name. ‘You’re saying that he was the man who got you pregnant…. my father?’
‘Haven’t I just told you so?’
‘There’s a great deal for Harriet to take in, my dear,’ Gustav said quietly.
Harriet parted numb lips. ‘Yes. Are you absolutely sure that Valente was my father?’
‘Now you’re being horribly rude and insulting! How dare you?’ Two spots of feverish pink adorning her taut cheekbones, Eva rose up in a sudden movement that took both her companions by surprise and stalked out of the room.
‘You’re very shocked. Eva can’t have understood that,’ Gustav sighed. ‘Perhaps you can now see why your mother asked for discretion. She has a real dread of her secret being exposed. Cavaliere had an unsavoury reputation, and she can’t face being associated with him in that way.’
Harriet said nothing. She did not trust her voice or her temper. It seemed to her that there was no proper acknowledgement of how she might feel. She got up to leave.
The older man went through the polite motions of offering her tea and suggesting she wait for her mother to join them again. But Harriet sensed that he was keen to close the chapter and the entire episode. He wasn’t comfortable with emotional scenes. She was walking out of the hotel with no idea where she was going when her mobile phone buzzed. It was Boyce.
‘I tried to speak to Mum about your long-lost father,’ her half-brother began. ‘But it went pearshaped on me…’
‘Did it?’ she said dully.
‘I had no idea that Gustav was working in the room next door and was able to hear every word I said. It was a bloodbath! Mum started crying, and Gustav came wading in, and I had to drop the subject.’
‘Of course you did.’
‘To be frank, I don’t fancy tackling Mum again. She has Gustav wrapped round her little finger, and I would prefer not to have to tell him to mind his own busine
ss. I’m sorry.’
‘Don’t worry about it. It’s really not that important.’
‘Are you sure?’
‘Totally.’ She snatched in a deep, trembling breath. ‘Did Mum tell you anything at all?’