The Fragment of Dreams

by Phillipa Fioretti

Genres: Romance

Synopsis

As Lily farewells William, knowing she will join him soon in Rome, in rushes her newly found cousin, wildly accusing William of the theft of the carving and attempted murder. Is William guilty? Has his love for her been an elaborate lie? Lily realises that the truth about William, and about her family, can only be uncovered by travelling to one of the world?s most beautiful and menacing cities ? Naples. There she discovers family secrets that will make her journey back to William more dangerous than she could ever have imagined.

Release date: April 27, 2011

Publisher: Hachette Australia

Print pages: 352

Sample

Lily lay stretched out next to William, only her tangled blond hair visible above the quilt. Gently, he pulled the cover away
from her face. She appeared so deeply asleep it was hard to detect any sign of life. He smiled and quietly eased himself out
of the bed, pulled on his jeans and a sweatshirt, and made his way to the kitchen. He heard Otto, Lily’s two-year-old schnauzer,
hop out of his basket and patter through the living room after him.


From the kitchen window he could see the rooftops of the neighbouring terrace houses. Television antennas, wet leaves and
corrugated-iron roofs, all dull under the overcast sky. He filled the kettle, set it on the gas ring and bent down to fetch
two mugs from the cupboard. Otto took the opportunity to lick William’s face.


‘I’ll get back to you, my friend,’ he said to the dog and stood frowning at the stove until the kettle screamed. He quickly
whisked it off the gas so it didn’t wake Lily. Without enough sleep, she was inclined to get overwrought. Whenever his previous
girlfriends had been out of sorts he’d usually absented himself, not that bothered as to what they were upset about, or why
– as long as it wasn’t anything he’d done. Now he cared so much he felt ridiculous.


The thought of the day ahead unsettled him. He was going to meet Lily’s only living relative, her sister Poppy, who was flying
down from her home in the Northern Territory to stay with them. William was hoping to make a favourable impression. He wanted to marry Lily but she had not yet
given him an answer. Poppy’s blessing might help his chances.


The sound of William making tea in the kitchen woke Lily. She opened her eyes, picked up her phone from the bedside table
and checked the time. He was up early. Settling back into her pillow she pulled the quilt up, but the spell was broken and
she returned to the previous day’s worries to see if there was anything she’d missed.


Only a few more days and William would be gone, on his way to Rome to start the new job, and she’d be here trying to sell
an antiquarian bookshop during an economic downturn. It wasn’t how they’d planned it. He thought they would have months together
in Sydney, but now they’d be half a world apart and anything could happen. Lily flopped over onto her back with a sigh. There
was no point in her complaining, it would only make him feel guilty. Poppy arrived today and she could complain to her sister
instead.


Or maybe she wouldn’t.

In an email, Poppy had been less than enthusiastic about Lily moving to Rome with William. As the oldest sister, Poppy had
always saved her pocket money, finished her homework and bought the sensible shoes. But Lily knew she’d like William, because
despite his background in art, he was a straight edge, just like Poppy.


William returned to the bedroom, placed the mug of tea on Lily’s bedside table, put down his own and climbed back into bed.
Lily rolled over, wrapped her arms around him and they lay still for a moment.


‘Good morning,’ he whispered.


‘Mm.’

‘What time does Poppy get here?’

‘Around three, I think.’ Lily turned onto her back.

‘That’s a shame; I have to be at the Italian consulate at three, got some work things to sort out,’ he said, taking her hand.

Lily yawned. ‘Oh, you’ll meet her at dinner tonight. It’s a long day for her. She leaves the station east of The Kimberley
before dawn, flies to Darwin in a light plane and then catches a domestic flight to Sydney.’


‘That’s an epic journey,’ he said as he examined her hand. Relaxed and with the fingers half curled there was a slight crease
in the side of her palm. He placed his tongue there, a starting point for his intention to spend the next hour slowly exploring
all the other folds and creases of her body.


His phone beeped, and with his free hand he picked it up from the bedside table and read the message. ‘Alessandro again.’

‘I wish he’d waited a little longer before asking you to start this job, but I suppose it’s good to get going.’

‘I know, it would be better if we could have gone back to Rome together, but yes, I must admit to being excited.’

William kissed her hand. ‘It’s such a brilliant opportunity. Working with my closest friend and all the antiquities that move
through Leonelli’s. And I heard Gianna Ferrara is going to be my assistant. You remember her? She was at the dinner in the
Campo dei Fiori in Rome where you met Francesca and Alessandro.’


‘Tawny Knickers?’ Lily removed her hand from his mouth, her smile fading. ‘Yes, I remember her.’

‘What did you call her?’

‘All that tawny hair, and she wore a dress in the same colour.’


‘Anyway,’ William said, looking slightly confused, ‘she’s very clever, knows everything about Magna Graeca.’

‘You slept with her. Francesca told me.’

‘Good old Francesca, always taking an interest in my affairs.’ He lay down. ‘Yes, I did sleep with her, a long time ago. I don’t
intend to do it again if that’s what bothers you.’


‘Gianna spent that entire evening undressing you with her eyes. She kept touching you and tossing that hair of hers. I bet
she’s thrilled to bits to be working closely with you, the closer the better.’


‘Don’t worry. Nothing’s going to happen with Gianna.’

‘I’ve heard that sort of statement so many times.’

‘Not from me.’

‘You know I can’t cope with infidelity, not even a whisper of it.’ Lily’s voice was tight with emotion. ‘Not after Robbie
and his constant affairs and lies. And if Gianna wants you, she’ll get you. I know it. You’ll be together every day …’


The morning sun shone through the slats in the shutters of the French doors. They lay side by side, not touching, both staring
at the ceiling.


‘You think I’m a slave to lust?’ William said. ‘That I can’t control myself, that I have no scruples?’

‘Well what about us?’ Lily said. ‘Locked in a stockroom for one night and we were all over each other. And the scruples came
after the act, remember?’


‘That was different, you know it was. I  was, and I am, in love with you. And I never let it happen again, did I? Until Robbie
was out of the picture, despite your constant provocations.’


‘I never –’ Lily gasped.

‘Yes you did, you siren. But let’s not argue, I  am a faithful man.’ William moved towards her, but she wriggled away. ‘Come
back here, I swear to you on the souls of our unborn children I will never be unfaithful to you.’


‘But what if we don’t have children?’ she countered. ‘Then you’d be free to be unfaithful.’

‘It’s not going to happen. I love you, only you. I don’t share myself around, okay?’ He reached over to her hip, gently rolling
her back towards him, and rested his hand on her thigh. ‘You know there’s only you.’


Lily smiled and stroked his cheek.

‘Happy?’ he murmured. ‘Can I make love to you now?’

‘Is it making love to or with?’

‘Does it matter?’ He slid his hand up her thigh but, noticing a distracted look in her grey eyes, lay back against the pillows.

‘I suppose not,’ Lily said, throwing back the quilt and sitting up. ‘Speaking of love, I’ve got to get the marmalade going
so you can take some to Rome.’


‘Can’t it wait?’ His eyes followed her as she walked naked across the room.

‘I’ll be straight back,’ she said. ‘This is making love too, you know.’

‘Be quick,’ he sighed, watching her bend over to pick up her dressing gown off the floor. ‘I don’t need masses of marmalade.
Just half a jar will do.’


She turned, leaned over the bed, kissed him then left the room.

Lily heaved the string bag of oranges onto the kitchen bench, opened it and let the fruit tumble out. So Gianna was going
to be assisting him – all day, five days a week. She took a large bowl out of the cupboard, placed the wooden cutting board in front of her and picked up a knife. No, that should
be the very clever Gianna. Lily cut through the thin skin of the orange. The elegant and very clever Gianna. Frowning, she sliced more
of the orange, making sure each piece was the same width. As she placed the slices in the bowl, Lily’s voice of reason spoke
up and said, even though William and Gianna had slept together once, it was unlikely to happen again because William loved
her, not Gianna. Nonetheless Lily hoped Gianna had her own voice of reason, one which would direct her come-hither performances
away at another, unattached, man.


‘Seville oranges?’ William said, walking into the kitchen, the quilt draped over his shoulders and an empty mug in his hand.

A mass of oranges covered the kitchen bench from sink to stovetop. Lily nodded at the recipe book lying across the draining
board.


William picked it up. ‘Orange, chilli, cardamom and fennel marmalade?’

‘No, never.’ She looked up at him and wrinkled her nose. ‘Sounds like curried marmalade; I don’t want curry on my toast in
the morning. No, the one underneath, orange and clove.’


‘Mmm, looks good. It has a nice Elizabethan sound to it.’

He opened the cupboard under the window, took out a jar of Lily’s plum and brandy jam and placed some bread in the toaster.
Leaning against the kitchen bench he watched her as she worked. She was wearing the heavy woollen dressing gown he’d bought
her in London, and while functional, it covered all her charms. Her pale hair kept falling across her sweet face and she pouted slightly in concentration.


‘I never thought I’d feel like this,’ he said.

‘Feel like what?’ She lifted a hand covered in juice and with her wrist pushed the hair off her face.

‘Like I could eat a whole jar of jam. Here, have some.’ William smiled as he watched her trying not to laugh and then placed
a spoonful of the sweet, dark jam in her mouth.


She shut her eyes, swallowed and said, ‘Come on, let’s go back to bed.’

Lily hung back from the crowd at the arrivals gate, looking for Poppy’s light red hair amid the sea of brown, grey and blond
ambling off the Darwin flight. And there she was, freckled face, moleskins and navy sweater, waving a magazine and grinning.
Lily squealed, squeezed through the crowd and pulled her sister into a hug.


‘Look at you, Poppy Rose,’ Lily exclaimed, laughing. ‘Such rude health is shocking.’

‘And you, Lily Viola, are glowing,’ Poppy said, smiling and holding Lily’s shoulders. ‘God, it’s good to see you like that.’

Arms around each other, they made their way to the baggage carousel.

‘So,’ Poppy said, ‘is the new boyfriend responsible for this happy face?’

‘You’ll make me blush,’ Lily said. She fished her phone from her handbag and scrolled through the folder of images until she
found one of William. She passed the phone to Poppy.


‘Nice, very nice,’ said her sister. ‘So you’re moving to Rome with this man?’

‘Yes, I’m learning Italian and getting everything ready to sell.’


‘You said his parents were Russian, but he’s quite dark, really.’ Poppy nodded and gave the phone back. ‘I was expecting a
blond. Nice cheekbones. When do I meet him?’


‘Tonight. He’s had some business to do this afternoon.’

‘Do you love him?’

‘I hardly think I’d be going to live with him in a foreign country if I didn’t, Poppy,’ Lily said, taken aback. ‘Yes, I love
him, very much.’


‘Just checking.’ Poppy hauled one large suitcase off the carousel.

‘Tell me more about this letter you found in Mum’s things,’ Lily said, changing the subject. ‘Although, if it’s disturbing
enough to bring you to Sydney I’m not sure I want to know.’


‘I’m here to see you as well,’ Poppy said. ‘But yes, the letter. It was the surname of the sender that caught my eye. Same
surname as us, Trevennen. Hang on, that’s my other suitcase, it’s an empty one. Grab it. I’ll show you the letter when we
get back to your place.’


As they wheeled the suitcases through the car park, Lily asked, ‘How are my nephews?’

‘Good, yeah. Angus broke his arm last week; we had to fly him up to Darwin to have it set. Harry broke the bunk bed in the
same incident. Don’t ask. And Tim wants me to find dinosaur pyjamas while I’m here.’


‘And Cody?’

‘He’s fine. Busy working as usual.’ Poppy loaded the luggage into the boot then slid into the passenger seat. ‘What about
Robbie?’ she said as she did up her seatbelt.


‘Like I said in my email, I never see him.’

‘So you ended up with the car?’ Poppy sounded surprised. ‘He loved this old heap.’


Lily reversed out of the parking space, panting with the effort of turning the large car. The Citroën, despite its faded glamour,
was almost too much for her in both temperament and size. ‘He left it behind and I haven’t heard from him so I’ll keep driving
it until I do.’


‘You told me about the twenty-million-dollar book he ran off with – typical Robbie – but that’s it. You met William when he
was hired to find the book, right?’


‘That’s right, but let me finish the story of Robbie,’ Lily said, pulling up at the boom gate and sticking her ticket in the
slot. ‘It wasn’t just the book. Without a word to me he took all our savings to Italy and left me with nothing, and he also
took a seventeen-year-old girl who used to work down the road as a barista.’


‘Oh, he’s a bugger of a man!’

‘Hang on, let me just work out this tricky bit,’ Lily said, looking over her shoulder and changing lanes. Once they were on
Southern Cross Drive she relaxed.


‘So,’ she continued, ‘William and I tracked him down to a farmhouse in Tuscany where he’d holed up with this poor girl. I’d
had more than enough of Robbie and his antics by this stage so I finished it then and there. Made him sign over the entire
bookshop business to me. The police recovered the book and Robbie was deported from Italy. I came back to Sydney, changed
the locks and he’s had to go back to his parents’ home, seeing as I own the flat and shop premises. He probably still doesn’t
believe it’s over. He’s taken his clothes and the television, but that’s it.’


‘I’m glad Robbie’s out of the picture. Two-timing bastard. His need to sleep around was killing you,’ Poppy said.

Lily pulled up at a set of traffic lights and glanced at her sister. ‘Thankfully, William’s not like that.’


Poppy raised her eyebrows in the sceptical I-was-born-two-years-before-you-and-therefore-know-better look Lily knew so well.

‘I hope not, for your sake.’

The lights changed and Lily accelerated. ‘You can check him out for yourself. Unfortunately he’s been called back to Rome
and leaves on Saturday. We were going to take our time selling this business and getting to know each other, but it’ll all
work out.’


Poppy snorted. ‘All I can say is he’d better be the loyal type, or I’ll …’

‘Or you’ll what?’

‘Not sure, something to do with fertiliser and a funnel, I suspect – but which end? Maybe both. Anyway, I do not want any
more of those excruciating emails you sent me every time Robbie slipped off the straight and narrow. I couldn’t go through
all that again.’


‘I couldn’t either,’ Lily said.

A tiny red light had been flashing in her mind since William told her he’d be working with Gianna. Lily ignored it, looked
her sister in the eye and said, ‘This is different, I know this will work out.’


Lily manoeuvred the car into the back lane and parked in the garage. She could hear Otto inside the house barking with excitement
at the familiar sound of the car engine. The garage had a door opening onto a small paved courtyard at the rear of the terrace
house. From the courtyard another door led into the stockroom. Lily carried the empty suitcase through the stockroom and into
the rear of the bookshop, while Poppy dragged in the full one. Otto wriggled and danced and flung himself at Poppy’s face
when she kneeled down to pat him.


‘Oh, he’s so sweet, I’ve been dying to meet him after all those photos.’

‘Otto, get down.’ The dog sat straight away, looking up at Lily with complete adoration. ‘Sick-making, isn’t it? Come on upstairs
and I’ll make you a cup of tea.’


A whitewashed staircase led upstairs from the shop to Lily’s small flat. Poppy hauled her suitcase up the stairs, dumped it
on the floor of the living room and looked around. ‘Exactly as it was last time I was here.’


‘I know, still tiny,’ Lily said, ‘I hope you don’t mind sleeping in the living room.’ The faded couch along the wall doubled
as Poppy’s bed. A standard lamp stood in the corner; its warm light shining on the jumble of blankets, old patchwork quilts
and pillows.


‘No, that’s fine,’ Poppy said. ‘I need the loo.’ While she was gone Lily went to the kitchen and put the kettle on to boil.
She placed mugs, milk and a lemon cake on the table and sat down to wait.


‘Now, the letter,’ Poppy said, walking back into the living room. She picked up her handbag, pulled the letter out and handed
it to Lily. Lily glanced at her and began to read.


Dear Susannah,

I trust this letter finds you and the girls well.

I have, over the years, tried to be a good sister-in-law to you, and you have my deepest sympathy at the loss of Philip. His
death at an early age is unfortunate, but his years of ill health and suffering could have been avoided had you both not run
off to Africa on a whim.

Your choice of companion throughout this sad time, Luca di Troia, a man who has nothing but vicious and selfish ends in mind,
has hurt Stephen and myself immeasurably. This leads me to say that I regret it is no longer possible for us to continue any
family contact. Stephen feels as I do on this matter.

We wish you and the girls all the best for the future.

Jean Trevennen

Lily blinked as she read the letter. The mention of her father always stirred her emotions. But the longing quickly disappeared,
replaced by anger at the tone of the letter. Who was this Jean to write to their mother in such a manner? And who was Stephen,
and Luca di Troia?


Poppy went to the kitchen and poured the boiling water into the teapot. When she returned to the living room Lily put the
letter down on the table.


‘A prize bitch or what?’ Poppy said

‘But what does she mean about Dad?’

‘Mum must have lied to us. She told us Dad dropped dead suddenly after a heart attack when you were two months old, didn’t
she?’


‘Yes, that’s how I remember it, but this letter …’ Lily looked down at the letter, shaking her head with confusion.

‘Suggests that he didn’t,’ Poppy finished. She poured the tea into the mugs. ‘Dad must have died of something else and whatever
it was Mum didn’t want us to know. And this cow appears to be blaming her.’


‘Who is Jean Trevennen? We don’t have any relatives at all.’

‘Ah, but it turns out we do. Mum lied about that as well,’ Poppy said. ‘I found out that we have an uncle, Stephen Trevennen,
and he was married to this Jean creature, who’s dead now. Which is a good thing because I would have smacked her face if I
met her, and –’


‘Where did you find this?’ Lily asked, uneasy at the thought of unknown relatives, ones who wrote vile letters to her mother
in particular.


‘In among some photos. I’m surprised Mum kept it. If some woman had written me a letter like that I would have sent it back
daubed with cow shit.’


Lily had no doubt that Poppy would scoop up a cowpat, fold the letter around it, stick it in a postbag and send it off without
a moment’s hesitation. ‘Well isn’t Jean lucky she died before you got to her,’ Lily said, taking a sip of her tea. ‘I just
can’t believe we have family. Mum always said we were all alone.’


‘May as well have been,’ Poppy said. ‘They never contacted us. And why is that? I rang our uncle and introduced myself. He
seemed surprised to hear from me but didn’t slam the phone down or anything. Told me a little about himself, mentioned his
wife was dead and that he had a son, Andy. I said we’d love to meet him.’


‘We would?’ Disturbed by the sudden knowledge that her father had suffered before he died and that maybe her mother was to
blame, Lily wanted time to collect her feelings.


‘Yes. We would. Tomorrow, in fact.’ Poppy crossed her arms and gave a deep sigh, signalling there would be no further discussion
on this matter. ‘But can you afford to close the shop for a day?’


‘I’m hardly going to keep working when I haven’t seen you for so long. Besides, an antiquarian bookshop is not feverishly
busy at the best of times.’ Lily returned to the kitchen to get a knife for the cake. Poppy had had time to think over the
letter and all its implications, but she had not. They would have to talk some more before visiting Stephen tomorrow, and
she’d have to explain it all to William.


Poppy joined her in the narrow kitchen. ‘I can’t believe you and Robbie lived here for five years. It’s looking so …’

‘I know, but I was in a mad scramble when William and I left for Italy and we’ve only been back a short while. I haven’t had
time to –’


‘But you’re okay financially?’ Poppy asked. ‘I mean, you did say you were going up to the library to read my emails.’

‘I’m fine. The computer thing is only temporary. ComTel cut off my landline, so no internet. I  forgot to pay them when I
went to Italy. I paid as soon as I got back, but nothing’s happened yet.’


‘But you’re making a living?’

‘I pay myself a living wage from the profits, not huge, but enough for me.’ Lily brushed past her sister and returned to sit
in the living room. ‘I’m all right, Poppy, don’t fuss.’ She gestured at the cake on the table. ‘This is one of Marcel’s lemon
cakes, remember Marcel? Patisserie on the corner.’


‘I have never forgotten Marcel and his patisserie.’ Poppy took a slice while Otto sat patiently at her feet watching. ‘He’s
the sweetest dog,’ she said. ‘Can I give him some cake?’


‘No way,’ Lily said firmly.

‘It’s odd without Robbie here,’ Poppy said. ‘You two were together for six years, after all. It’s like losing a brother-in-law.’
She passed a chunk of cake down to Otto. ‘A brother-in-law I’m delighted to lose.’


William felt Poppy’s eyes boring into his back as he reached into the fridge for another bottle of wine. As pretty as her
sister, but more weathered, she’d been friendly and direct with him, but he knew she had him under close scrutiny. Fair enough,
he’d be the same given the circumstances. While Lily was in the bathroom, Poppy seized the moment. She’d left the table and
was now leaning against the doorway of the kitchen.


‘I’m Lily’s only family, despite these long-lost relatives we talked about at dinner.’

‘Yes, she’s told me,’ he replied, shutting the fridge. ‘It’s a shame you live so far away.’

‘Rome is even further away.’ Poppy crossed her arms, her eyes seeming to probe every cell in his body.

William carried the bottle through to the living room and they both sat down. ‘Another glass of wine?’ Crusts of bread, the
remains of a green salad and empty plates strewn with chicken bones and olive pits covered the table.


‘Lily and I are close despite the distance,’ Poppy said, holding out her glass. ‘I like to know she’s okay.’

He knew what Poppy was getting at. ‘I appreciate your concern, but I can assure you that Lily will be safe with me.’

Poppy nodded, not taking her eyes from his face. ‘And I appreciate your directness. Let me be direct too: if she’s hurt in
any way, I’ll do whatever I can to get her away from you, and then hunt you down to the far ends of the earth – with a big
stick in hand.’


William burst into laughter. ‘Right, now that’s out of the way, can we be friends?’

Poppy laughed with him and raised her glass. ‘What do you Russians say? To understanding?’

William drank some wine and put his glass down. ‘Poppy, she means more to me than anyone ever has. I would never mistreat
her.’


‘Actions, mate, not words,’ Poppy said. ‘And any hint of cheating will bring a shitstorm down on your head.’

William knew she wasn’t bluffing. She had the resources of one of the most profitable cattle stations in Australia behind
her, and he had no doubt the station’s success was largely due to the fact that Poppy was high up in the chain of command.


Lily came out of the bathroom and fetched a plate of washed-rind cheese and purple grapes from the kitchen. William poured
her another glass of wine, and it hit him like a blow to the chest how much he’d miss her when he left. Her grey eyes sparkled
with pleasure, enjoying her sister’s company and all the chatter about the station. He also noticed Otto on the couch, a dog-free
zone, keeping a low profile beside a tapestry cushion.


‘So Cody and the boys were okay with you going away for three weeks?’ Lily asked.

‘Yep. That letter really messed my head around,’ Poppy said. ‘I couldn’t stop thinking about it. Cody just about put me on
the plane himself. Said go and bloody well find out more about it, if you can.’


‘Tell me more about your boys, Poppy,’ William asked.


‘My two oldest, Angus, nine, and Harry, seven, managed to smash a new bunk bed and break Angus’ arm last week while attempting
to make an indoor flying fox. The youngest, Tim, who’s six, thought it was all very funny.’


‘I grew up with three brothers,’ William said with a smile. ‘There were always balls through windows, cricket bats through
windows, boys through windows, broken limbs, teeth, furniture.’


‘Boisterous house, huh? Tell me about it. Actually I wouldn’t mind a few more kids. I like to do things in bulk. I’ve masses
of shopping to do while I’m in Sydney. Mainly for Cody and the kids, the boys grow so quickly and I can’t just nip out to
the shops. And I’m going to a wedding in a couple of months, so I need to get something for that.’


‘I’m sorry I won’t be here for the rest of your visit,’ William said. ‘Did Lily tell you I have to leave in a few days?’

‘Yes, to start the new job in Rome. So tell me more about what you do? You met Lily when you were hired to track down this
twenty-. . .