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‘Tell him how you feel,’ said Elena.

‘But I don’t know how I feel.’ She winced at her own lie.

‘Oh, but I think you do.’

Chapter Twenty-Seven

‘Buon compleanno!’

‘Happy birthday!’

‘How did you know?’

‘Ah, ha,’ said Elena, tapping the side of her nose. ‘As your employer, I have inside information.’

‘And Zio Jamie, he tell us,’ Stefano piped up

‘And we know that it’s a special birthday too,’ said Elena. ‘Buck’s Fizz?’

‘Grazie,’ said Lucy, a smile flickering across her lips.

Stefano returned to the breakfast table with a plate of pastries, a hopeful Harry hot on his heels, tail a-thump.

‘Sfogliatelle!My favourite,’ said Lucy, taking a bite. ‘And what’s this?’

Wiping her sticky fingers on her pyjamas, she picked up the red envelope bearing her name, which was propped against the coffee pot.

‘Open it, Zia Lucy,’ said Stefano, bouncing up and down like a ping-pong ball.

She gave the envelope a vigorous shake then gingerly lifted the flap and peeked inside. ‘It’s a ticket. Am I right?’

Stefano nodded.

‘Hmm. A ticket for what, I wonder. No, don’t tell me. Give me a clue…’

Elena leaned over and whispered in Stefano’s ear, sending him into an explosion of giggles.

Regaining his composure, he began strutting up and down the kitchen screeching like a wild dingo.

‘I know! The zoo. It’s a ticket to the zoo.’

Stefano shook his head and resumed his performance, only louder this time.

‘Dinoland?’

‘You’re allowed one more try,’ said Elena, hands covering her ears, ‘before somebody calls the police.’

‘I’ve got it! The opera. It’s a ticket to the opera.’

‘Essato,’ said Stefano, high-fiving her. ‘But which opera?’

He drew an almighty breath, just as Elena clapped her hand over his mouth.

‘Basta! Enough! Take a look please, Lucy, and put us all out of our misery.’

There was a tearful pause as the wordsLa Bohèmeflashed before Lucy’s saucer-wide eyes.

‘Oh, Elena, I don’t know what to say… to see my favourite opera here, in Italy, is a dream come true. And we’re in a box! What are you going to wear? I think I shall wear the same dress I wore to—’