by Lucy Gordon
‘You know,’ she mused, ‘in the fantasies he seduces her on satin sheets. She’s wearing diaphanous lingerie and he draws it slowly away, piece by piece. Then she does the same for him, overwhelmed by his perfect taste in clothes.’
‘That’s true,’ he said gravely. ‘Yanking off three layers of flannel and a pair of long woollen underpants doesn’t quite do it.’
‘It did it for me,’ she said contentedly, snuggling against him.
Mandy nodded off almost at once and slept without nightmares, only peace.
In the morning they took some breakfast from the fast declining food stock and ate it the forbidden room where they could watch the falling snow. There was a little light, so that they didn’t have to waste the torch batteries.
‘The snow’s hypnotic, isn’t it?’ she said. ‘It almost sends you back to sleep.’
Dreamily she began to recite a few lines from a poem about snow.
‘Did you write that?’ Renzo asked.
‘No, I learned it at school when I was ten.’
‘And you still know it? What a memory. I can’t get over you being an academic.’
‘Because I don’t look like one? Don’t you know by now not to judge by appearances?’
‘Are you going to throw “delicate” at me again?’ he asked warily.
‘No, I promise. Actually, at one time I wanted to be a dancer. I took lessons, but I wasn’t good enough to make a career of it, so I found something else.’
‘So that’s why you move as you do, like a pretty little cat?’
She smiled. ‘That’s what you say now, but the first time you called me a cat it wasn’t a compliment.’
‘Not entirely, but I’ve always been fascinated by your movements, and I don’t just mean when you were dancing. Everything you do is graceful, like an elegant feline, insinuating herself wherever she wants to be. You insinuated yourself into my mind. At first I didn’t want you there, but you wouldn’t go away.’
‘That’s me. Awkward. Never did what I was supposed to do.’
‘I’ll second that.’
‘Cheeky!’
He hugged her, resting his cheek on her head.
‘You’re so tiny,’ he complained. ‘I keep being afraid you’ll slip through my fingers.’
‘You’ll have to hold on to me tightly then, won’t you?’
‘Let’s get inside. There are easier ways to hold you tightly.’
Once under the covers, they went on talking.
‘Do you really not have any family?’ he asked.
‘Only the distant ones I told you about.’
‘Cat? Dog?’
‘Nope, just one very good friend. Her name’s Sue. We were at school together and we’ve stayed close, although we don’t meet much. She’s a nurse, working in the north. Sometimes she gets down to London and stays with me.’
‘And that’s all? It sounds lonely. Is it enough for you?’
‘In many ways, yes. I love my work, and sometimes it feels like all I need.’
‘But not always?’
‘Well, I’d like more eventually…one day…’
Mandy fell silent as she realized what she was saying. ‘One day’ would never come. With every passing moment that grew more certain.
‘What would you like-one day?’ he asked gently.
‘Someone of my own, who was just mine, who saw only me, thought of only me, wanted only me.’ She made a sound of impatience with herself. ‘That sounds so self-centred.’
‘No, it’s what we all want, if we’re honest. It’s just so hard to find, even impossible.’
‘Impossible? You really think that?’
‘I don’t know. I always used to, but that was then. Now it’s different. I don’t know what I believe any more, except that I believe in you.’
‘What about family? Is there anyone who’ll worry about you?’
‘Only my grandfather, but he’s very old and he’s mostly lost contact with the world.’
‘No parents?’
‘My mother left when I was about six. She and my father were a happy couple-so everyone thought. Then she fell in love with someone else and next thing, she was gone.’
‘Leaving you behind?’ she asked, aghast.
‘I came home from school one day and she wasn’t there.’
‘What? She didn’t explain or say goodbye-’
‘She wanted her freedom,’ Renzo said simply.
‘Did you ever see her again?’
‘Now and then. She eventually married her lover and they had three children.’
In her anger on his behalf she spoke without thinking. ‘So she didn’t want to be free of them?’
It was a moment before Renzo said quietly, ‘No, just me.’
There was a lifetime of desolation and rejection in those three words.
Appalled, Mandy realized that she’d touched a nerve that still hurt after so many years.
‘Bitch!’ she exploded. ‘I could kill her.’
Renzo’s voice was shaky as he said, ‘Hey, it’s all right. It’s all in the past.’
‘Is it really in the past?’
‘No, I guess not. It stays with you, but at this moment it doesn’t seem important. Nothing that ever happened to me before counts beside you.’
She stroked his face. ‘If we get out of this-’
He kissed her. ‘You must stay with me, always.’
‘Always and for ever.’
She held him tight and, after a moment, said, ‘And your poor father. It must have broken his heart.’
‘At first. After that, he embarked on what he called “a new life”. I went to stay with Nonno as soon as I could.’
‘Nonno? That’s grandfather, isn’t it?’
‘That’s right. Every time I visited my father, he seemed to have a different woman. He said variety was the spice of life. Once I reminded him of how crazy he’d been about my mother, and he didn’t know what I was talking about. He’s dead now.’
‘And your mother?’
‘Living in Australia-I think. I sensed that she felt uncomfortable when I visited, so I stopped bothering her.’
‘Well, I guess it’s no mystery why you don’t think ties are the greatest thing in the world,’ she seethed.
He grinned in self-mockery.
‘I thought of a clever plan. I’d live as I pleased, do everything I wanted to do first. Then I’d get married and have children when I was too old and decrepit to do anything else.’
‘There’s a flaw in that plan,’ Mandy said gravely.
‘Yes, I’m beginning to see that. Besides, I soon realized that a man who takes such a jaundiced view of families as I do had probably better not have children.’
‘But you might be a better parent because you’ve seen the other side,’ she suggested.
‘That’s a nice theory, but I don’t believe it. There’s too much in there-’ he laid a hand over his heart ‘-that had better stay well hidden.’
Silence: the contented silence of two people at ease with each other. Soon they would sleep, make love, rise again to eat, then return to bed and talk. And it dawned on her that this was how people behaved on honeymoon, which was the ultimate madness.
Going to the kitchen again was a worrying experience. The bottled water was running out. There was still the water in the tank, which wasn’t really for drinking. Otherwise there was only a bottle of whisky. They surveyed it in silence.
‘Not for me,’ Mandy said. ‘I don’t want to hide. I want to be there and know about it-whatever happens.’
‘You might find it easier…’ he ventured.
‘I don’t want it to be easy. It matters too much.’
Renzo leaned forwards and kissed her tenderly. ‘I knew you’d say that. You’re right. Just us. That’s all we need.’
When they’d eaten their meagre rations there was nothing to do but seek the warmth that only the bed could offer. They made love again, knowing that time was slipping away, a
nd it was as sweet and pleasurable as before, but now there was an added resonance. With every tender gesture, every invitation given and received, they said goodbye.
There was desire in each caress, but softened by infinite tenderness.
‘I wish I could see your face,’ he murmured. ‘I want to see how you look at me.’
‘But you know my face,’ she whispered. ‘You don’t need to see it.’
‘But which face? The one that teases me-’
‘No, not that one.’
‘Tell me.’
‘Kiss me first…again…again…’
Her voice trembled into a soft moan as his lips moved from her mouth to her jaw, her neck, her breasts. She entwined her fingers in his hair, drawing him closer, the more deeply to relish the feel of his tongue flickering against her skin. She was drowning in sensation, as warm and comforting as it was passionate.
With all her being she tried to do the same for him, giving from a full heart, taking perhaps the last chance to show him what he was to her, although even she didn’t truly know that. What they might have shared would have been revealed over years together-fighting, making up, having children. Now it must all be experienced in a few moments, and she gave herself up to the sensation with all her heart.
Renzo sensed her feelings deep in himself and moved up to where her face was, just below his, still seeking something he needed to know. He found it in her eyes that glittered brightly enough for him to see and heard it in the long sigh of satisfaction that broke from her, telling him that she was ready, eager for their union.
As he entered her, she arched up against him, claiming him as her own and becoming his in the same moment. No matter what would happen tomorrow, they would have this one last triumphant assertion of life.
‘I love you,’ he said softly. ‘It may be the last time I ever say it, and if so, I’m glad it’s to you and nobody else. You are everything to me, and you will be everything, for however long we have-and afterwards.’
‘I’m glad too,’ she told him. ‘I love you and, whatever happens now, I can take it because we had this, and it matters more than anything else ever has.’
‘More than anything ever will,’ he whispered.
He slept first, holding her against him, her head against his heart, listening to the soft beat, until finally she too slept.
Mandy awoke to find herself alone and went to find Renzo in the forbidden room, watching the falling snow. He turned and smiled at her, and she remembered that smile afterwards because it was almost the last she saw of him. As she moved towards him the building began to shake and a thunderous grinding roar came from beneath their feet.
‘Get back,’ he yelled.
But she was petrified, staring at the floor that began to disintegrate under her feet. The next moment she felt a violent push that sent her flying to the back of the room so that her head hit the wall.
Now she knew what was happening. The ground beneath them had collapsed again, taking with it the place where Renzo had been standing. But he was no longer there. His lunge towards her had taken him almost to safety, but not quite. The floor was slipping away, sloping too steeply for him to be able to fight it. He fought to grab hold of something, but everywhere was too slippery.
‘Renzo,’ she screamed, stretching out her arms desperately.
But it was too late. He was vanishing faster every moment.
‘Renzo! No-’
His face was turned up to her, tortured with strain and horror as he reached vainly for her.
‘Mandy!’
The sound faded even as he uttered it. He was going down, down, until she could no longer see him. From somewhere in the distance she heard a long agonised cry that faded as it sank into the depths, like a man descending into hell.
‘No-please, God, no!’
Forgetting safety, she crawled back to the new edge, looking down into the abyss where there was only deadly whiteness. Scream after scream burst from her, echoing down into nothingness, and more screams until all the world echoed with them, and then it was over.
CHAPTER FIVE
O N THE Via Manzoni the buildings spoke of money. Here, in the most elegant part of Milan, there was an air of indulgence and reaching out comfortably to the neighbours. All except for one house, which had a bolted and barred appearance, suggesting, at least, someone who preferred not to be disturbed and, at worst, someone who hated the world.
Mandy paused outside to check that she’d come to the right address. It was hard to connect Renzo with the slightly grim aspect of this place, yet the paper in her hand assured her that this was where he lived. She raised her hand to ring the bell, then backed off and went instead to a small café just down the street.
You’ve lost your nerve, she told herself crossly as she sipped her coffee. But then, it’s been a long time. Two years since we found each other, loved each other, lost each other. And so many things have happened since then. I know I’ve changed, and he must have changed too.
It saddened her to think of him being different. She could see him now, giving her the old smile-teasing, yet tender and generous. Surely nothing could have altered that?
She caught a glimpse of herself in a mirror on the wall. It was like seeing a ghost, and in a strange way that was how she’d felt since the day she’d awoken in a hospital in Chamonix to the news that, while she had been rescued, Renzo was missing and probably dead. His death had been confirmed a few days later.
She’d returned to England in a daze of grief and tried to take up the threads of her life, although, after the love that had blazed briefly and been so cruelly snatched away, it felt little better than a half life.
But then, two years later-almost to the day-she’d picked up a newspaper and read:
Avalanche Victim Wrongly Identified.
It now seems that the body identified as Italian climber Lorenzo Danilo Ruffini, following the Alpine avalanche nearly two years ago, was actually another man of similar appearance…
She’d embarked on a determined quest, hiring a private detective who had soon been able to tell her, ‘It took the rescue team a long time to find him, and then nobody thought he would live. His body had actually shut down with the cold but, against all the odds, they managed to bring him back.’
‘How did he come to be wrongly identified?’
‘There were two men missing, and the woman who did the identification was the wife of the other one. She couldn’t face the fact that he was dead, so she simply denied that the body was his. Then she had a complete mental collapse, but recently she recovered enough to admit the truth.
‘He now lives in Milan, where he owns a sports-equipment company. His physical recovery took a long time, and his mental recovery even longer-and both, I understand, are incomplete. In fact, they will probably never be complete.’
And now, here she was, having followed the trail to Milan. In a few moments she would see Renzo again and know if the dream she’d carried in her heart had any reality.
One thought troubled her. She hadn’t sought him out before because she’d thought he was dead, but he seemed to have made no effort to find her. It could have been done easily through Pierre Foule’s records, but he hadn’t tried. Had she too been reported as dead? Or had he simply put her behind him?
No! Her heart denied it fiercely. He had said, ‘I love you. You are everything to me, and you will be everything, for however long we have-and afterwards.’
She heard his words but more, she saw him, not shielded by darkness as he had been then, but as he had lived in her heart ever since-his eyes softened with tenderness, his voice deep with fervour as he proclaimed his love for ever.
The man she remembered had not turned his back. He loved her still, as she loved him. Anything else was impossible.
Today she would see him again and life would spring anew within her. He would look at her and his face would be transformed with a joy that echoed her own, and somehow they would find the way forward again.
At last she rose, determined not to be afraid, walked back to the house and rang the bell.
It was answered by a woman in her thirties. She had a distracted air, but she smiled politely.
‘Does Signor Lorenzo Ruffini live here?’ Mandy asked in Italian.
‘Yes, but he doesn’t want to be disturbed. I’m Lucia, his secretary. Is he expecting you?’
‘No, he’s not expecting me. At least…’a sudden vagueness overtook her ‘…I don’t think he is.’
‘What name shall I tell him?’
‘Mandy Jenkins.’
‘Does he know you?’
‘I don’t…really know.’
‘Look, I don’t think-’
‘I’ll wait. I don’t care how long it takes.’
She was inside the door before Lucia could protest.
‘You’d better come in then, but it could be a long wait. He’s got an important appointment with a business associate-well, more of an enemy, really. Mind you, he seems to think everyone is an enemy these days.’ Lucia added confidingly, ‘He’s going to carve him up. Ah, that must be him.’
The doorbell had rung again. Lucia admitted a squat individual with an expanding belly and a cunning face.
‘Signor Vanwick?’ she asked politely.
‘Mr Vanwick,’ the man declared grumpily in English. ‘I’ve got no time for that Signor stuff.’
‘Yes, Mr Vanwick. Follow me, please.’
She led him down the hall, Mandy following, and opened a door.
‘Mr Vanwick, Signor Ruffini,’ she announced and stood back quickly before she was brushed aside by Vanwick’s advancing bulk.
Before the door closed they could just hear him growl, ‘Now then, Ruffini, what’s all this trouble about my bill?’
‘Nice character,’ Mandy said in English. ‘Not a good advertisement for my country.’
‘No problem,’ Lucia said. ‘In a few minutes he’ll come out of that door, pale and shaking. He tried to cheat Signor Ruffini out of a million euros and now he’s going to wish he hadn’t. Nobody makes that mistake twice. Mr Vanwick is an unpleasant man but I feel sorry for him, getting on Signor Ruffini’s wrong side.’
‘You don’t like Signor Ruffini?’
