The Italian Matchmaker by Santa Montefiore Read Free Book Online Page B

there in the shade with their glasses of wine, if they had all been in residence as long as the professor.
    Romina proceeded to introduce them one by one, starting with a petite woman with curly blonde hair and big blue eyes. She wore a pale pink chiffon shirt tied in a bow at the neck. ‘This is Dizzy and her husband Maxwell, who live in Vienna, and that darling little creature on her lap is Smidge.’ Dizzy was stroking a fluffy white dog with long manicured nails.
    ‘Hello, Luca. We’ve heard so much about you.’
    ‘Hi,’ said Maxwell, running a hand over his balding head. ‘Good to meet you, finally! A man who bats on the same team!’
    ‘Maxwell works in finance too,’ explained Romina. Luca tried to stifle his irritation. Everything about Maxwell and Dizzy was repugnant.
    ‘And this is Ma Hemple.’ Romina placed her hands on an elderly lady’s soft shoulders. Ma was totally grey except for dramatic black streaks that swept from her forehead to the bun that was tied on top of her head, like a racoon. When she took off her large red-rimmed sunglasses her eyes were a surprisingly pale shade of green. Her lips were crimson, matching the poppies on her dress which she wore over wide black trousers. She was a large woman with a dry sense of humour some could mistake for rudeness.
    ‘About time!’ she said without smiling. ‘We were beginning to think your mother was making you up.’ Her accent was as upper class as the professor’s, her tone deep and fruity.
    ‘That is why I came, to save her face,’ Luca replied solemnly.
    ‘Well, just in time! Come and join us. There is a bruschetta left and it has your name on it.’ Luca had no option but to remain among this extraordinary gathering. He wondered where his mother had found them all. Her appetite for new people was voracious.
    ‘Isn’t this fun!’ said Romina, casting her eyes to the French doors in the hope that Ventura would appear with refreshment. ‘Silly woman! I’d better go and get her. We need more wine. Wine for my son!’
    As Romina disappeared inside, the professor emerged on Luca’s father’s arm. ‘Ah, here’s my boy,’ said Bill, grinning at Luca. He was tall and lean with thinning grey hair partially hidden under a stiff panama hat, a good-looking man with a wide, infectious smile. He was even-tempered and consistently jovial, which was just as well, being married to the mercurial Romina.
    ‘Hi Dad,’ said Luca. They embraced, clearly pleased to see each other.
    ‘So, what do you think of our new home?’
    ‘It’s spectacular.’
    ‘Not bad for an architect and a painter, eh?’
    ‘Not bad at all.’
    ‘How long are you staying?’
    ‘I don’t know. I’ll take every day as it comes.’
    ‘Like us. That’s the joy of being retired,’ interjected the professor.
    ‘Or unemployed,’ Luca added wryly.
    ‘So I gather,’ said his father. ‘Time to try something different.’
    ‘What exactly, I don’t know.’
    ‘You’ll figure it out. Here, have a chair and a glass of wine, that’ll do you the power of good.’
    Romina returned followed by Ventura, an attractive young girl with long brown hair and dark eyes, carrying the professor’s walking stick in one hand and a bottle of rosé in the other. ‘Don’t forget to put some food out for Porci,’ said Romina, pulling out a chair. ‘Porci was a house-warming present from your uncle Nanni, Luca.’ Luca raised an eyebrow. His mother didn’t usually like dogs, even little white fluffy ones like Smidge. ‘He’s a pig,’ added Romina, flapping her napkin and placing it on her lap. ‘A darling little pig!’
    ‘Who wears a nappy inside,’ said Ma. ‘A most uncommon sight. Though, I would say he has a certain hoggish charm.’
    ‘He’s a cutie,’ chirped in Dizzy. ‘But he’s naughty because he doesn’t like Smidge.’
    ‘Who’s to blame him?’ said Ma under her breath.
    ‘The only reason he’s not on the menu is because your mother wants the