Anthony’s words fell like a stone. Melissa felt a sinking feeling in her stomach as the full import of the words hit her. This explained so much of the past. The tell-tale signs had always been there, if she had only paid more attention. Anthony had been Victor’s favourite from day one. She had always thought Victor was a lonely and bitter man who hated women, and that was how Anthony had described his godfather. Melissa assumed that Victor had never forgiven Anthony’s aunt for leaving when Anthony was so small. He must have seen Melissa as a threat to the bond he had formed with his godson, and feared she would drive a wedge between them. He should have declared his relationship to a student when he was their tutor to ensure transparency, but that would obviously have interfered with his plans to help Anthony as much as he could.
“You never told me,” Melissa spoke in a near-whisper as she digested his words.
“Victor wouldn’t let me. He said you were too honest, you’d tell someone and he’d get in trouble for not having been open about his relationship to me.”
“He’d have been right.” Her words were tinged with the bitterness she felt.
“I couldn’t take that chance. He’s all the family I’ve ever had. You of all people know what that’s like.”
Melissa thought about her grandmother and how she had felt when she was dying. She remembered the pain that she had experienced after the old lady had passed away and the emptiness that had been left in her when the grief had finally subsided. She could not answer and simply nodded.
Anthony’s gaze returned to the window. “He gave everything he had to give me a chance, Liss. He gave up so much to get me to university because he wanted a good future for me and I nearly pissed it all away. Then I met you and you got me back on track. But you know me. I never do anything by halves – all or nothing, me! The year we graduated, I told him I didn’t care about a big career. I only enrolled on that Master’s course to be with you. I was going to ask you to marry me.”
Melissa grabbed the arm of her chair and gasped in shock. She put her other hand over her mouth to stop any further sounds escaping. She could not afford to interrupt him, not now. She had to hear what he was going to say next.
Anthony’s hand had gone into his trouser pocket. He pulled out a small box. “I even bought you a ring.” He was looking at the box, turning it over and over in his hands. “It’s not much, I didn’t have a lot to spend back then, but I knew you’d like it.” He turned briefly, long enough to throw the box to her and then resumed staring out the window. He took a long, slow breath in before speaking again. “Victor told me we were too young to make such a rash decision. He said we should finish our education first because we had plenty of time for weddings later. I didn’t know he was coming to be our lecturer at that point. I didn’t know he’d hate you so much and I promise you I didn’t know he stole your paper.”
Melissa was still staring at the box she held in her trembling hands. It was well-worn, and she could imagine Anthony had spent many days over the years turning it over as he had done at the window. She found she could not bring herself to open it. Shock had overtaken every other emotion she had been feeling and she feared that the sight of an engagement ring she had never been given would mean a total loss of her faltering control. She could not move or speak. She shut her eyes tightly and felt the first tear fall onto her wrist. His last words had barely registered.
“I found out a year ago, when Victor finally had to give up his home and move in with me. I was clearing his house and ended up searching through some old boxes of junk he’d kept. I found copies of some of my old work. I suppose I got a bit nostalgic and so I kept digging through the box. I found some of your papers. I thought it was odd that he’d kept them and so I kept looking. I found tons of your stuff all with marker pen over it. Then I found more copies of my work that had been altered to include bits of yours. It got worse the more I looked. Then I found that final paper − the one we broke up over. He’d copied almost all of it into mine and changed the submission dates. I swear to you, I didn’t know. I would never have done that to you − I loved you.”
Melissa was still trying to fight back the tears which were now falling from rage, not pain. Her grip had tightened on the box in her hands so much that she could feel the corners digging into her palm. She was shaking too, torn between wanting Anthony to stop and needing to hear it all. She looked up at his back. He had just delivered the two biggest bombshells in her life and still he was not looking at her. She was incensed.
“He ... did ... what?” The pitch of her voice rose with every word. She was fighting to hold back the torrent of abuse she wanted to throw at the man standing in front of her. Whether he knew what had happened in the past or not, he was the only one she could vent her anger on. “LOOK AT ME!” She shouted her demand at Anthony’s back. After a moment he complied, his face full of shame.
“HOW DARE YOU COME HERE AND TELL ME YOU LOVED ME!” Melissa was still shouting. She rose to her feet, pausing long enough to slam the ring box on the table. “You knew Victor shouldn’t be there without admitting to your relationship. You knew it was wrong. You could have stopped him any time you liked, but you chose not to. You and Victor used me to get you through that damned course. It’s my work that made you famous. My work made you rich. And what did I get? A few years of lies and platitudes oh, and of course let’s not forget the sex. I get to tell everyone I know about how I had the great Anthony Marcus! Well, lucky me!”
“Liss, you’re being irrational,” Anthony was trying to keep his temper, but her high- pitched ranting was grating on his nerves.
“Don’t call me that. You no longer have the right to call me that.” Melissa was bordering on hysteria. “Why are you really here, Anthony? Did Victor get such a kick out of destroying me last time that you thought another go might cheer him up? Send him off with something to remember? Or is it that you fancied a look at just how sad and uneventful your life would have been if you hadn’t traded it in for mine? You come here making out that you are just as much a victim as I am, well, you can forget it. I have no sympathy for you whatsoever. I can’t believe you would stoop so low.”
Anthony tried again. “Liss, I …” Melissa raised an eyebrow in contempt at his continued familiarity, making him pause. He began a second time “Melissa, if you would just calm down long enough for me to explain everything, you might find it easier to understand.”
“Oh, there’s more, is there? Oh, how lovely!” Melissa had walked to the door. She wrenched it open with such a force Anthony knew instantly that she had hurt herself. She stared at the opening, no longer wanting to look at him. Her voice went oddly calm and quiet. The change was quite frightening.
“I couldn’t give a shit about what you have to say. I want you out of my house. Now!” She finally looked back across the room to where he stood. Anthony hesitated, preparing to stand his ground.
“OUT” she shouted, pointing at the opening until Anthony crossed the room to where she stood. He paused in front of her as if he intended to speak, then thought better of it and left. Melissa slammed the door behind him, shaking the pictures that hung on the wall. She leant against the door, sliding down it until she was sitting on the floor and finally gave into the tears that now fell in a flood from her eyes.
As soon as Anthony left the room, he knew he could not leave. For a start, his car keys were on the coffee table, but, more importantly, he had so far failed to achieve his objective of persuading Melissa to join him in Italy, and he was staying until he succeeded. He moved closer to the door, listening for any sounds from within. Hearing her crying made him angry with himself and he slammed his hand against the wall to release some of the tension he was feeling. His palm stung from the impact, but it took his mind off Melissa, briefly. What he wanted to do was to storm back into the room to comfort her, but he knew that any attempt to do so would probably result in the ornaments on the mantelpiece flying at his head. Experience told him he had to withdraw, allowing her to m
ake the next move. He turned and headed for the kitchen. The evening was drawing in and he had not eaten since breakfast. He was pretty sure Melissa had not either. Logic dictated that where honesty had failed to have the desired impact, food might just get him a reprieve.
Anthony went straight to the fridge. He was pleased with what he found; plenty of fresh vegetables and salad. A quick rummage in the cupboards located dried pasta and a good selection of herbs and spices. Dinner would be basic, but quick − exactly the kind of meal they used to eat at university.
Anthony had always loved to cook for Melissa. She had never been good at looking after herself, and he had enjoyed coming up with new culinary delights to tempt her palate on their ever-precarious finances. Cooking had never been one of Victor’s strengths and Anthony had learnt at an early age that, if he wanted to eat anything good, he would have to make it himself. As his career had taken off, he found he had less time to spend in the kitchen and his eating habits had gone downhill. That was only one of the standards that had slipped over the years.
His interest in archaeology had been sparked when he was nine: some Roman coins were found on their farmland and he had been fascinated that something so old and valuable had been left in the ground. He was hooked, and spent every spare minute looking for other potential finds around the farm. Despite rebelling at his English boarding school, he knuckled down to work for just long enough to achieve the grades he needed to get onto a degree course. He had been determined to obtain that degree, but had never thought he would achieve a first until he hooked up with Melissa. He was more than capable academically, but lacked the drive necessary to excel. She had given him his focus and he knew he had her to thank for the life he now had.
Being famous had opened up an entirely new world for Anthony, one that he had never dreamed possible. It had all come so fast that he struggled to keep control. It was like being on a never-ending roller coaster that had no brakes: he was offered book deals, TV and radio appearances and lecture tours at an alarming rate. It was demanding work and he spent months on end living out of a suitcase, but he loved every minute of it.
Being permanently on the move made lasting relationships difficult. Anthony had never had any difficulty getting women, but having a long-term relationship with one became almost impossible. Actresses, pop stars, and at least one heiress, threw themselves at him with such frequency that the choices became too hard to make. Even after he took a steady job at an Italian university, he continued to play the field. He enjoyed the attentions of the press and the number of beautiful women available to him only fed his desire to maintain his playboy status, despite the fact that his lifestyle was frowned upon by his colleagues in the academic world.
Anthony became obsessed with sex. The more he got, the more he craved and soon he needed to extend his gaze. His students proved the easiest target. He never ceased to be amazed at the levels of depravity to which some would stoop for the chance of a better grade. Had he been found out, he would have lost his position, but amazingly none of them ever said a word. He began to think he was untouchable.
That had all changed four years ago when a three-in-a-bed romp involving a pair of twenty-six year olds he had picked up in a bar in London made the English tabloids. It had earned him the nickname Sindiana Jones. There had been no point in denying the allegations: the pictures they printed made it quite clear it was him. He was lucky that these girls had not been younger, or students, or his career would have been finished rather than severely tarnished.
Victor had gone berserk at the revelations; he ordered Anthony to sort himself out and forced him to see a therapist for sex addiction. It took many months, but eventually Anthony came to realise that he used sex as a way to avoid confronting his inability to form lasting relationships. He had only ever loved two women in his entire life and both of them had, in his mind, deserted him. He needed to confront his demons. He could not resolve the issues with his aunt, as Victor would not give him any firm details about her, but he could try to work things through with Melissa.
He had had to put his plans on hold when Victor was diagnosed with bowel cancer. Victor was the only family Anthony had, and he chose to step back from the limelight to help his godfather through the treatment. It was humbling to watch a once great man reduced to a shadow of his former self. Victor had always been strong, never needing help from anyone for anything, but the combination of operations, chemotherapy and radiotherapy ravaged his body, leaving him frail. All through this experience Anthony had been there to help Victor cope with the simple daily tasks that could not be managed alone. Whenever life became too much to cope with, Anthony would find himself thinking about Melissa and how much he missed just talking to her. She had been the sensible one in their relationship, always knowing what to do when problems arose and never judging him for his stupidity. The more he reflected on their time together, the more he understood that she had never deserted him − he had been the one who had let her down. Worse still, he realised he was still desperately in love with her and he had to know if there was any chance to get her back.
And now he was here making dinner in her kitchen. She was so near and yet still out of reach. Being so close to her had not been easy for him. It had been nearly a year since he had last been with a woman, and he had paid for both her services and silence. Just having Melissa’s body touching his when he stopped her falling had excited him, and his mind was now racing with thoughts of how much he wanted to feel her naked flesh pressing against him once more. He knew he could have forced himself on her as soon as they were in the house. She was far too inebriated to have resisted him, but, despite his many failings, Anthony could never bring himself to force any woman to sleep with him, let alone the one with whom he wanted to spend the rest of his life. He had to be patient and work his way slowly back into her confidence. He had done it once, and he could do it again.
His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of the living room door opening. Anthony stopped preparing the salad and took a couple of deep breaths, gaining control of his feelings and pushing them to the back of his mind. He resumed his dinner preparations as Melissa entered the kitchen.
“Dinner will be about ten minutes,” he called over his shoulder as casually as he could manage. “Nothing too special, I admit. It’s just the usual pasta, a fresh sauce and some salad. Hope that’s OK with you?”
“I told you to go,” Melissa replied, her voice cold.
“Couldn’t,” he replied, “I left my car keys in the lounge.” He glanced over his shoulder at her. She looked terrible, with her face flushed and her eyes red and swollen from crying. The urge to take her in his arms was almost too much to bear. He resumed slicing the cucumber to distract his mind. “If you wouldn’t mind giving me a hand, you could lay the table while I finish this salad.”
They ate in near-silence. Melissa had not realised just how hungry she was. The last meal she had eaten was breakfast, since Anthony had not made it in time for their planned lunch. He was still an excellent cook who could make something out of next to nothing and she was grateful to him for having gone to the effort, though loath to admit it. She knew that he had other plans apart from just making dinner. He still wanted her to go on this blasted dig and she knew he was unlikely to give up too easily. Best get it over with, she decided.
She made more coffee and they returned to the living room, taking up positions on either end of the tired old sofa. It proved to be only marginally more comfortable than the chair that Anthony had avoided when he re-entered the room
“So, tell me more about this dig, then,” she said. She tried to sound as disinterested as possible, but annoyingly, she was curious at his offer. It was why she had waited at the pub for so long, after all.
“I knew you’d come round. My cooking has never failed to work its magic yet.” Anthony was grinning as he spoke. “Victor’s been doing tons of research since he was diagnosed. The chemo made him so sick that for days he just lay in bed, but then he
’d get a bit of life back and feel bored being stuck in the house all day waiting for the next lot of treatment. So, he spent hours with books and I finally introduced him to the internet. Can you believe he still thinks computers are evil?” He paused as he waited for a response, but Melissa merely looked at him with indifference. “Anyhow it’s taken years of hard work, but he’s found the Rubicon and the location of the camp.”
“How can you be so sure?” Melissa’s question was not unreasonable: scholars struggled to pinpoint the river to more than a rough area between the modern-day towns of Ravenna and Rimini, and to have located a temporary structure on the banks of an elusive river about which so little was known was beyond the realms of belief.
“He does know what he’s doing.” Anthony was blunt, almost rude in his retort. Melissa smiled to herself. He had no idea whether it was true or not. Victor had said jump and he had dutifully obeyed. It appeared that some things never changed.
After a moment’s reflection, Melissa re-entered the debate. “OK. Let’s assume Victor’s right. Let’s assume you have the river and camp locations. Why do you think there is anything there worth finding?”
“Caesar was there for months with the Thirteenth legion. That’s five thousand men, give or take. There’ll be tons of stuff in the rubbish pits alone.”
“OK. So we strike lucky and find some broken pots, maybe some damaged armour or livery from the horses. What’s so amazing that I should give up my jobs?”
Anthony was grinning again. “You don’t need to give them up. That’s why I was so late. I’ve taken the liberty of making some financial arrangements with both the curator at the museum and your college principal. Both will grant you extended sabbaticals in return for a donation and me doing some talks for them. I will be in charge as the Site Director and you and Victor will be my Field Supervisors. You may have to carry the bulk of the work, as I don’t know how much Victor will be up to each day. I intend to give you complete credit for anything of value we find, and, if there’s nothing there, then I’ll take the blame for a wasted effort. I am offering you the opportunity to get your career right back to where it should have been, Liss …, sorry, Melissa. You can’t lose. And on top of that, you get to spend a wonderful summer in Italy with me.”
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