by Lucy Gillen
I have told her she can have the money,’ Stefano
agreed quietly. ‘Since she was prepared to go to such lengths to get it.’
Alison looked at him reproachfully again, and she would probably have protested, but Aunt Celia gave her no time. ‘Oh, we girls will go to almost any lengths to get our own way,’ she informed him, with quite appalling coyness. ‘Won’t we, Alison?’
‘Almost,’ Alison agreed, swallowing hastily and keeping her eyes lowered.
‘Didn’t you realise that, Stefano?’ Aunt Celia asked. ‘Of course,’ she added brightly, ‘we don’t always mean exactly what we imply, but usually by the time our—victims realise that, it’s too late anyway and they’ve already committed themselves, just the way we planned.’
There was silence for several minutes, the most awful silence Alison had ever sat through, and she would have given anything to have been able to run from the room or sink through the floor. Then she realised with a start, that Stefano was smiling. A small, tight smile to begin with that gradually widened as he looked at Aunt Celia.
‘Celia,’ he said quietly, ‘you are a very—what is it? Femmina astuzia.’
Aunt Celia looked at him blandly. ‘I haven’t the remotest idea what that means,’ she told him, ‘but it sounds terribly impolite.’
‘It is not,’ he denied, apparently prepared to unbend, to her at least. ‘It means—crafty, no cunning. You are a cunning woman to have been so—frank.’
‘I only told you the truth,’ Aunt Celia insisted. ‘Although I’m not at all sure I should have let you in on one of womankind’s best kept secrets.’ She
looked across at Alison and smiled. ‘Should I, darling?’
Alison kept her hands round her coffee cup. It prevented them from trembling and it was better than clasping them together like hands in prayer. ‘I—I don’t suppose it will make any difference,’ she said flatly.
She started almost visibly when strong brown fingers closed over her right arm, and raised her eyes to look at Stefano. ‘It could,’ he said softly, and she hastily looked down again before she spoke.
‘I’m sorry,’ was all she said.
Danny stared at her in disbelief for several seconds when Alison broke the news to him that evening. Then his light blue eyes gleamed with excitement, and he hugged her close. ‘Darling! Are you telling me that he’s actually agreed? He’s giving us the money?’
‘He’s authorising it from the trust,’ Alison corrected him. ‘It isn’t actually his to give, Danny.’
‘No, no, I know that.’ He waved aside such -fine points with an impatient hand. ‘When? When can I—we have it,.darling? Soon?’
‘I—I don’t know for sure,’ she said, wishing she could feel some of his excitement herself. ‘It may take a little time to get so much. I suppose Stefano just has to authorise the amount and then—it’s yours—ours.’
‘It’s marvellous! ‘ He hugged her again, and kissed her forehead. ‘You’re a clever girl,’ he told her. ‘I’ll go over to that place just outside Skeggan and tell him I’ll take it.’ He rubbed his hands together gleefully. ‘Now I can really get down to business.’
The fact that it also meant they could now get married seemed to have escaped him for the moment, and Alison did not feel inclined to remind him, although with her next words she did so inadvertently. ‘When are you coming to Creggan Bar for dinner?’ she asked him, and he stared at her for a moment as if he had forgotten ever having accepted the invitation. As, she thought ruefully, he probably had. The garage was the be-all and end-all of his ambitions and she almost resigned herself to taking second place to it already.
‘Oh, yes.’ His enthusiasm for that was much less. ‘I’d forgotten about that.’
She smiled wryly. ‘Yes, I thought perhaps you had. Well, now I’ve reminded you, and in the circumstances I think it would be as well to make it soon.’
He shrugged uneasily. ‘Yes. Yes, it would, I suppose.’
‘Tomorrow night?’ she asked, and thought for a moment that he was going to argue, but he was still feeling elated about the prospect of owning his own garage after all, and he nodded.
‘OK—tomorrow,’ he agreed, and Alison thought, as she listened to him making plans, that he had not even been interested enough to ask her how she had achieved her success at last.
If Danny professed to being nervous at the idea of
dining at Creggan Bar, Alison felt just as apprehensive at his coming. Aunt Celia had said she liked
Danny, but there were times when Alison doubted it, and she could not for one minute imagine him having much in common with Stefano. It could well be a very trying evening.
She took much more time than usual trying to decide which dress to wear, putting on first one and then another, finally settling for a little pale lemon one with no sleeves and a full skirt that made her look rather childlike and very appealing. She dare not wear anything too formal for fear of upsetting Danny, and she hoped Aunt Celia would take his more down-to-earth tastes into account too.
She left her bedroom at the same moment Stefano left his, and he looked at her and smiled, approvingly, she thought. ‘This is a big night for you, is it not, Alison?’ he asked, walking along with her to the head of the stairs, and she was not quite sure how she should answer that.
`I—I yes, I suppose it is,’ she said.
Going down the stairs he was obliged to walk much closer to her and she was heart-stoppingly conscious of his fingers brushing against her bare arm. He looked very attractive and quite devastatingly self-confident, his black hair just touching the collar of a light blue shirt, and there was a glint of devilment in the black eyes when she met his gaze. She thought of Danny’s rather acid remark about the cost of his suits and guessed he would turn green with envy when he saw the dark grey, beautifully cut one he wore tonight.
`Stefano ! ‘
They were at the foot of the stairs and she put a hand on his arm, bringing them both to a halt. He
turned and looked down at her, seeming so much taller now that they were on the level, his dark, Mephistophelean features emphasised by the overhead lighting in the hall. There was always a light in the hall, even on summer evenings, because it was always a dim, cool place and for a moment she hesitated to go on, feeling suddenly shivery for no good reason that she could think of.
He put out a hand and touched her cheek gently with the tips of his fingers. ‘What is troubling you, Alison?’ he asked. He had never called her any of those half teasing but beautiful-sounding Italian endearments since they returned from Crag’s Head, and she had to admit to being sorry about it.
‘It’s—it’s about Danny,’ she began, and wondered how on earth she could go on, without sounding horribly disloyal to Danny.
‘You are afraid he will not like us—Celia and me, I mean,’ he explained.
‘He knows Aunt Celia.’
‘Oh, I see.’ He grimaced ruefully. ‘It is me—you think he will dislike me, is that it?’
‘Not really.’ It was really very difficult to explain, and she fervently wished she had never broached the subject. She took a deep breath and tried again. ‘It’s just that Danny is—is different from you. I mean,’ she added hastily, ‘he comes from a quite different background and he sometimes—well, he resents people who are different from himself.’
‘I see.’ He said it softly and she was unsure what his reaction was, or how he had interpreted her explanation, but it was too late to do anything about it now because the front door bell was already
summoning her, and she called out to Mrs. Dawlish as she hurried over to answer it.
Danny was wearing his one and only suit, and she was thankful to see that he was even wearing a tie. He looked scrubbed and pink-faced and slightly resentful, as she had half expected, and he made no attempt to kiss her when she asked him in. ‘I nearly didn’t come at the last minute,’ he told her, stroking nervously at his beard.
‘Oh, Danny, you didn’t!
‘ She was unsure whether to laugh or take him seriously, then she decided he was quite serious about it and looked at him in dismay. ‘But why?’ she asked.
He looked around the big hall, at the paintings on the walls and the old but valuable rugs underfoot, and shrugged. ‘This isn’t my scene, Alison, you know that.’
‘But that’s silly,’ she protested, fearing he might yet turn and walk out again.
‘It’s not silly,’ he retorted sharply, so that she looked round hastily, to make sure that Stefano had gone into the dining room and was out of earshot. ‘I just don’t fit into a place like this, Alison, you know that as well as I do.’ He smiled at her grimly. ‘You can’t make a silk purse’ out of this particular sow’s ear, darling, no matter how much you want to.’
‘I don’t want to make you into anything other than what you are,’ she protested, thinking that quarrelling in the hall within minutes of his arrival was hardly a good start to an evening that promised to be fraught with pitfalls anyway. If Danny had made up his mind to be on the defensive it was
going to be very hard indeed to put him at ease.
He kissed her with his usual rather off-hand carelessness and laughed shortly. ‘I bet you’d change me if you could, my sweet,’ he told her. ‘But I prefer to be what you look on as a misfit.’
‘Oh, Danny!’ She looked at him in despair. ‘I don’t know why you say things like that ! You had the same upbringing I had, and you fit in here just as well as I do—or you would, if you weren’t so bent on being—being difficult ! ‘
‘Difficult?’ He looked at her speculatively. ‘If I’m going to make it difficult for you, darling, shall I go?’ He half turned, as if he meant to carry out his threat, and she clutched at his arm hastily.
‘No! No, of course you won’t go,’ she told him. ‘Besides, Stefano knows you’re here now, you must come in.’
She took him across the hall and into the dining room, her heart doing crazy and alarming things when she thought of him meeting Stefano at last, and remembering his often expressed opinion of him. She opened the door and took a deep, almost audible breath as she introduced the two of them.
Danny eyed the older man as they shook hands, and there was some deep, glinting resentment in his light blue eyes, but he was quite formally polite, acknowledging Aunt Celia with a greeting that was much warmer, though still a little resentful. At least the first few minutes had gone off well, Alison thought, and heaved a sigh of relief while. Stefano rang the bell for Mrs. Dawlish to bring in dinner.
It was not an easy meal, but thanks largely to Aunt Celia and Stefano it went off very well in the
circumstances, and Alison breathed a sigh of relief as they sat over coffee, for the moment quite relaxed.
‘Well, Aunt Celia said brightly, smiling from Alison to Danny, ‘this has been something of a celebration dinner, hasn’t it?’
‘Yes. Yes, I suppose it has,’ Alison agreed a little warily.
She and Danny had discussed the garage plans at length, but nothing had been mentioned of their getting married, and she was wondering how he would respond to the assumption that the dinner was by way of being an engagement celebration. He would probably resent it in the way he did most things that he had not thought of himself.
‘Are you celebrating something, Mrs. Friston?’ Danny asked, one brow raised curiously, and Alison held her breath when she recognised the signs she had half expected.
Aunt Celia looked vaguely uneasy, as if she only now realised she had been a little unwise to be so open about something he obviously felt was his own private business. ‘I will have my own celebration before very long,’ she told him quietly. ‘But it’s a little premature for that yet, Danny. I was thinking more of you and Alison naming the day at last.’
Danny looked at her steadily for a moment, then he flicked a brief and querying glance at Alison before giving his whole attention to his coffee again. ‘I don’t think we’ve even discussed it yet,’ he told her bluntly. ‘There’s no particular hurry that I’m aware of.’
Aunt Celia looked momentarily taken aback, but
she managed to smile as she looked from one to the other of them. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said. ‘I must have got the wrong impression. I thought it was only the lack of funds that was holding up the proceedings, and that’s been taken care of now, hasn’t it?’
‘That was holding up the business of buying the garage we want,’ Danny informed her. ‘It’ll still hold up the purchase if the money’s too long in coming through. That one on the Leethorpe road is too good to miss, and the man won’t hold if forever.’ He looked at Stefano as he spoke, his meaning obvious, but Stefano was not to be so easily swayed, however broad the hints.
‘It takes time,’ he told him quietly. ‘And as you say, there is no particular hurry.’
‘There is for the garage,’ Danny insisted. ‘There’s no time to hang about with that, or it’ll be gone, and I especially want that one.’
He would, Alison thought ruefully; it was by far the most expensive one he had found so far and he had set his heart on that particular one. ‘But, Danny—’ she began, but might not have spoken for all the notice he took of her.
‘The sooner I can get my money down, the better,’ he told Stefano.
‘Put down your money?’ Stefano asked quietly, and Danny did not see the pitfall until it was too late—he nodded. ‘You have some money to put down?’ Stefano’s voice was so quiet it sounded gentle, but it was as hard as steel, Alison realised with dismay. Danny had said the wrong thing by referring to it as his money, and she wondered what on earth had possessed him to be so tactless.
‘All right, Alison’s money,’ he said harshly. ‘It amounts to the same thing.’
‘Only if you marry,’ Stefano reminded him softly, and Danny scowled at him belligerently.
‘We’ll marry when we’re good and ready,’ he said. ‘At the moment there are more pressing matters to consider.’
`Ah yes, the garage.’
‘The garage,’ Danny agreed, a faint sneer curling his top lip, so that Alison looked at him in dismay. If he quarrelled with Stefano now, it could ruin everything for him.
‘Danny—’ She put out a hand across the table to touch his arm, but he shook it off impatiently.
‘I don’t see that it’s anybody else’s business when we get married,’ he said, to no one in particular. ‘Even if we don’t get married at all.’
She saw her aunt’s head come up. sharply, and Stefano’s black eyes narrowed. ‘I wouldn’t like to think you meant that, Danny,’ Aunt Celia said quietly.
‘I don’t see what it has to do with you,’ Danny told her bluntly. ‘If Alison’s prepared to stay as we are, or come to some other arrangement, I don’t see that it concerns anyone else.’
Stefano was watching her suddenly, and she felt as if she would like nothing better than to sink through the floor. Coming so soon after her own provocative behaviour with him, it was inevitable what impression he would get.
‘It concerns her family,’ he told Danny quietly—too quietly, but only Alison realised that.
Danny smiled. ‘Well, I don’t happen to subscribe
to the school of thought that lives by somebody else’s rules and regulations,’ he said. `If we want to skip the formalities, I don’t see there’s much anybody can do about it.’
`Do you not?’
Then Danny got the message, and he stared at Stefano for a moment in disbelief before his face flushed red with anger. ‘You told her she could have the damned money,’ he declared. ‘You’re not the type to go back on your word. I know your sort! ‘
‘I think not,’ Stefano told him softly. ‘Any more than I think you know Alison very well.’ The black eyes, deep and unfathomable, turned on her, and she felt like crying when she realised how he was fighting for her. For what he thought she really wanted—marriage to Danny. ‘Is that what you want, Alison?’ he asked softly. ‘To—to live—as he says?’
She felt too numb for a moment to answer him. She had never before seen Danny in such a mood, never realised quite how bitterly he resented the orthodox things like marriage and the kind of life she was used to. All the old-fashioned things he so often jeered at were, she realised with a cold heart, exactly the kind of things she had cherished the thought of for the two of them. Danny would never change, no matter how he had professed to love her. If anyone changed at all it would have to be her, and she did not think she could adjust to his way of thinking any more than he could to hers.
She shook her head slowly. ‘I—I don’t,’ she said, in a flat voice that betrayed how cold and hopeless she was feeling, and it was Stefano’s strong fingers
that reached across and consoled her silently, while Danny looked across at her with a gleam of determination in his light blue eyes.
‘You don’t mean that, darling,’ he told her, but his confidence had taken a blow and he knew it was touch and go whether he saw his cherished dream slip away or not. ‘We’ll be married, if that’s what you want.’
She looked at him, seeing him for the first time, she thought bitterly. ‘It was what I wanted, Danny,’ she said in a small, tight voice.
‘Was?’
She shook her head slowly. ‘I don’t think—I don’t think I was seeing straight,’ she said huskily. ‘I’m sorry, Danny.’
‘Alison!’ He looked at the two other people at the table and got to his feet abruptly. ‘Come outside and talk to me,’ he told her sharply. ‘For God’s sake let’s go somewhere we can talk about this without being watched over.’
He held out a hand to her, and she looked at Aunt Celia before she got up, much more slowly, from the table. ‘If you’ll excuse me,’ she said, and Aunt Celia nodded, her eyes gentle with understanding. Before she turned to follow Danny from the room, Alison saw her put a restraining hand on Stefano’s arm, and she bit hard on her lower lip. Aunt Celia, it seemed, was far more likely to have a happy ending than she was herself, if that brief but revealing answer to Danny’s question about a celebration was anything to go by. And it was the surprisingly bitter thought of Stefano and her aunt that was uppermost in her mind as she went out to
