Three Days in Florence

by Chrissie Manby

  ‘You had a vasectomy without telling me?’

  ‘Yes. Because I knew what you’d say. You’d tell me I didn’t have to. You’d tell me it was too drastic and you’d never expect me to go that far for your sake. But you don’t want to keep taking the pill and I certainly don’t want to have to use condoms.’

  It had never crossed Neil’s mind that Kathy might want him not to have a vasectomy for reasons other than her hormones and his contraceptive comfort.

  ‘You had it for my sake?’

  ‘Yes.’ Neil looked pleased with himself. ‘And mine, of course. If you’re coming off the pill, then the last thing we want to risk is you getting pregnant. We’re just coming out of the woods with Sophie and the twins. I can’t face going through all that again. My babysitting days are over.’

  ‘But we’ve never talked about having kids,’ said Kathy. ‘You never asked me what I wanted.’

  ‘Didn’t seem much point. Been there, done that. I don’t know why you’re looking so slab-faced about it. I’m the one making the sacrifice.’

  That night, Kathy cried herself to sleep. She kept it together all day, but as soon as Neil was snoring Kathy let loose.

  What had she been hoping for? She should have guessed that, because Neil had never raised the subject of children, he had no intention of having any more. Had he assumed her silence meant she was in agreement? He could hardly be blamed for coming to the wrong conclusion since she hadn’t given him anything more than hints in the time they’d been together that she wouldn’t be against the idea of a baby.

  Yet to take such a drastic final decision without even mentioning it? He was being disingenuous, wasn’t he, when he said he’d done it for her sake? He knew she’d be against the idea. He knew she would have begged him not to. But maybe he was that stupid. Maybe he thought that when she’d talked about coming off the pill, she still wanted to be protected. Neil didn’t seem to understand what his unilateral decision represented. He seemed even more proud of himself when he came home from the doctor and announced that he was officially technically infertile. His seminal fluid contained ‘no more swimmers’.

  ‘So in ten years’ time, I’ll be free of school fees and university fees and free to spend some of my money on myself at last.’ He didn’t even seem to include her in that ten-year plan.

  Every day since then the situation had been like a stone in the bottom of a shoe. There was barely a single hour when Kathy didn’t give it some thought. She tried to be rational about it. Neil’s vasectomy might not have made a difference anyway. As the magazine and newspaper features she read were always pointing out, after thirty-five a woman’s fertility falls off a cliff. Kathy was knocking on forty. She might never have got pregnant even if Neil wanted her to.

  And perhaps if Kathy had really wanted to be a mother she’d have come off the pill without telling him. Was it only the slamming of that door that had made her sensitive to what she was saying goodbye to? Was that the truth?

  No, it wasn’t. Kathy had always wanted to be a mother. It was just that she’d been disappointed in love so many times that she hadn’t allowed herself to become too attached to the idea. Hadn’t allowed herself to say it out loud.

  Since the moment Neil revealed what he’d done, Kathy had wrestled with what she should do, talking herself in and out of the relationship a dozen times a day. She would lie awake in the middle of the night, feeling scared and alone, even though Neil was sleeping alongside her. She would convince herself that she had to leave. Then she would convince herself that if she did leave, there was nothing for her outside her relationship. It had taken her a long time to find someone as solid and reliable as Neil. Was it really the right idea to walk away from everything they still had – even if she would never be a mother – only to find herself single for ever? She still wouldn’t be a mother but she wouldn’t have a partner either. Surely it was better to resign herself to having half the life she wanted. At least she wouldn’t be alone.

  Neil was oblivious to the arguments that raged in Kathy’s head. With Shelley and Dave’s wedding approaching, like a runaway train, she couldn’t find the right moment to bring it up with him. Perhaps it was because she knew what he would say. He would tell her she could either like it or lump it, wouldn’t he? And then she really would have to make a decision.

  Easier to pretend that she would do that when they got back to London or at least come to a place in her mind where she was content with what a future with Neil had to offer her. But then he asked her to marry him. Was it because he felt safe at last in the knowledge that Kathy would only ever have him to worry about and care for? Now she really had to fish or cut bait, as her father might have said. Was she going to take the consolation prize?

  In the Uffizi Gallery, finally standing in front of the Doni Tondo – the beautiful picture of the perfect family – Kathy at last allowed herself to feel the truth of her situation with every cell in her body. She was engaged to a man who saw their future life unfolding exactly as he wanted it. There was no ‘we’ in her relationship with Neil. There never really had been. Sure, at first he’d made her feel that what she wanted was important, too, but the truth was, he was the captain of his life and she was to be his helpmeet. Her wants, needs and dreams were always secondary to his, if he even thought about them at all. He certainly hadn’t thought of her when he’d had that bloody vasectomy.

  She was on the verge of giving up everything for Neil. He’d only asked her to marry him because he didn’t want to grow old alone and he’d decided that – now he would never have to worry about more children – Kathy was his best bet. And over the five years they’d been together, he’d chipped away at her so steadily that she’d come to believe that he was hers.

  His life was going to be easier. Hers was not.

  What on earth was she doing? How had she come to accept that this boorish man was her destiny?

  Her life with Neil was no duet. She was second violin to his sodding trumpet solo.

  Kathy tried to press the ache of an impending crying jag away but it was no good. She burst into ugly tears.

  ‘Are you OK?’ one of the museum attendants asked her gently. ‘Would you like to sit down for a moment or two?’

  The kindness pushed fresh tears to Kathy’s eyes, but she shook off the offer of a place to rest. ‘I’m fine,’ she said. ‘It’s just the paintings. They’re all so beautiful and so moving.’

  ‘They get to some people more than others,’ the attendant agreed. ‘They call it Stendhal Syndrome.’

  Kathy called it realising you’ve travelled an awfully long way down the wrong path and not having a clue what, if anything, you can really do about it now.

  Chapter Fifty-four

  After that Kathy left the Uffizi straight away. She didn’t stop to see the Botticelli Birth of Venus or the Caravaggios. She just knew she had to get outside again before she made a complete fool of herself. The piazza della Signoria was crowded and noisy. The happiness of the people visiting Florence on a proper holiday seemed to mock her. She took the straightest route back to the hotel and went directly upstairs, without looking left or right, desperate to make sure she didn’t catch anybody’s eye.

  In the room, she examined her face in the bathroom mirror. The lighting was unflattering at the best of times but now she looked frighteningly awful. She splashed cold water onto her face to wash away the tear tracks. She just wanted to get back to London now.

  When she walked back into the bedroom, she saw that the light on the telephone was flashing to announce a message. She expected it to be from her mother, checking she was feeling better after their earlier emotional phone call. But the message wasn’t from her mum: it was from Carla.

  ‘Hey! Kathy, I hope this is you and I hope you haven’t set off for the airport already. The craziest thing ever has happened. We think we’ve found your engagement ring. If you’re still in Florence, come over to the house as soon as you can.’

  Of course she calle
d Carla back at once.

  ‘You’ll laugh when you hear what happened. It’s the most ridiculous coincidence you’ve ever heard. We’re sure it’s yours. It’s Tiffany. A square-cut diamond with two smaller square diamonds on the shoulders. A platinum band. A large size.’

  ‘It sounds right. Where did you find it?’

  ‘You’ll never guess.’

  ‘Don’t keep me in suspense.’

  ‘Virgilio from the junk shop brought it to the house this morning. He used it to propose to my mother!’

  ‘What?’

  ‘She said no, of course.’

  ‘But how did Virgilio have it?’

  As she asked, Kathy remembered Sunday morning in church and Roberta explaining in a whisper that Virgilio was a well-known fence – someone who received and passed on stolen goods. ‘When Mamma asked him, he tried to say he’d bought it in Rome a few weeks ago, but when she pressed him, he admitted he’d bought it off a local junkie last night. I don’t suppose he paid anything near what it’s worth. After Mamma refused his proposal, he tried to take the ring away with him again, of course, saying, “Finders keepers,” but Mamma pointed out that the very last thing Virgilio wants is for the police to get a warrant to examine the contents of his safe. So he left the ring with us. I gave him the money Neil paid us in that envelope to make up for his out-of-pocket expenses. Given how little he seemed happy to take, I almost feel sorry for the junkie who sold the ring to him. He obviously got a terrible deal. Not that I should feel sorry for someone who robbed my dear friend, of course!’

  ‘Thank you,’ said Kathy. Those words, ‘my dear friend’, were among the kindest she’d heard since she’d left the Casa Innocenti the previous day. ‘If it is my ring, it will get me out of a lot of trouble.’

  ‘Neil was upset, huh?’

  ‘That’s an understatement.’

  Carla exhaled loudly. ‘Well, now he’ll be happy again, won’t he? And so will you?’

  Kathy mumbled her agreement.

  ‘Come by later? We’ll have tea, English-style. Half past four?’

  Neil returned at three o’clock. He’d undone his tie. He looked hot and bothered. He definitely didn’t have the average Italian businessman’s knack of looking pristine, no matter how stifling the weather.

  ‘How was your day?’ Kathy asked him out of habit.

  ‘Hot. I don’t know how anyone gets anything done in this heat. But it was a good meeting. The client was very pleased with the information I gave him about the Casa Innocenti too. He thinks it could be worth a look.’

  ‘I’ve got some good news,’ Kathy said, cutting him short.

  ‘Oh? You don’t look like you’ve had good news.’ He referenced her puffy face. ‘Did you get an allergic reaction from something you ate?’

  ‘Perhaps.’ Kathy was going to fake it for a little longer. She didn’t know what else to do. ‘The engagement ring has turned up,’ she said.

  ‘What? Where? Did the Italian police actually do something?’

  ‘It turned up at the Casa Innocenti. I said we’d swing by and fetch it on our way to the airport.’

  ‘How did it get there?’

  Kathy told Neil the story. His face was sceptical throughout. ‘Why didn’t they just bring it to the hotel?’

  ‘Because they’re all working,’ said Kathy. ‘They have a full hotel. Besides, it’s on our way, isn’t it?’

  ‘Not really,’ said Neil. ‘We’ll have to get the car early.’

  Kathy couldn’t wait to leave.

  ‘If you ask me, it all seems slightly dodgy. The woman who chased the thief who took your bag ends up finding the ring?’

  ‘I don’t think it’s dodgy,’ said Kathy. ‘The man who brought it to Roberta is a well-known fence. I expect half the stolen goods in Florence end up under his nose.’

  ‘Well, he needs to go to prison.’

  ‘Let’s look on it as Fate,’ said Kathy. ‘And be happy that we’re getting the ring back.’

  ‘If it is the same ring.’

  Kathy was praying hard that it was.

  When they got to the Casa Innocenti, Neil declined to come in. Instead, he insisted on staying in the car, with the air-conditioning running at full blast, while he checked the emails that had been coming in since his earlier meetings. He said they were urgent. Kathy suspected that Faustino was another part of the equation. Indeed, Neil added quietly, ‘And the last thing I need is to get bitten and have to have a tetanus jab as soon as I get home. I’m assuming you’ll know whether the ring is yours or not. I mean, you did have it for the best part of twenty-four hours before you managed to lose it. Be quick. You don’t want to miss tonight’s flight too.’

  Chapter Fifty-five

  Faustino greeted her at the door. In contrast to the way he had welcomed her when they’d first met, this time he reacted as though she was a long-lost love he hadn’t dared to imagine might ever come home. He danced around her, squeaking the happy squeaks she’d thought he reserved for Henry. Kathy picked him up and he licked her face. She ignored the fact that his breath smelt of anchovies and concentrated on the wild expression of love he was offering her and the sensation of his soft foxy fur as it tickled her face.

  Manu was next down the stairs.

  ‘She’s here!’ he called up to his mother and grandmother. ‘Kathy’s back!’

  Roberta appeared. ‘Isn’t this wonderful?’ she said, clasping Kathy’s hands when she got to the top of the stairs. ‘We’ve found your ring. And it’s better than that,’ she added. ‘It turned out that Virgilio bought your rather lovely handbag as well.’

  It was definitely Kathy’s handbag. The Radley number that she’d stalked in the winter sales. Her purse was gone, alas, as was her phone. The thief had even removed the fluffy gonk key-ring Kathy had attached to the zipper on the inside pocket. That hurt. But at least she had the bag back. And the ring.

  ‘It is your ring?’ Carla asked.

  ‘I think so,’ said Kathy. ‘I hardly had a chance to get to know it but it certainly looks like the one Neil proposed with.’

  ‘Put it on,’ said Roberta.

  Kathy slipped it onto the ring finger of her left hand. ‘It’s going to have to be adjusted,’ she said, moving it onto the fatter second finger, which it fitted perfectly.

  ‘Will you have a cup of tea?’

  ‘I can’t. I ought to go. We’re late for the airport.’ Kathy took Carla’s hands. ‘Thank you again for everything. Thank you. I don’t know what I would have done, Carla, if you hadn’t found me and brought me here. Thank you, Roberta, for taking me in.’

  ‘Come back soon,’ said Roberta. ‘There is always space for you here with us. Henry will be sorry he missed you.’

  Would he?

  Kathy’s eyes prickled. ‘Where is he?’ she couldn’t resist asking.

  ‘He had to go to Rome last night,’ said Carla. ‘A big meeting. Someone is interested in his music.’

  ‘It could be the lucky break he needs,’ said Roberta, crossing fingers on both hands.

  ‘I have to go,’ Kathy said, hearing the sound of a car horn outside. ‘Thank you, Manu, for teaching me some very useful Italian.’

  Manu let Kathy kiss him on the forehead, then hid behind his mother’s legs so Kathy wouldn’t see how sad he was. Even Faustino seemed sorry to see her go.

  ‘Thank you, all of you.’

  Knowing that she would cry if she stayed a moment longer, Kathy made haste for the door. ‘Tell Henry … tell Henry I said goodbye.’

  Outside, Neil made a point of looking at his watch as Kathy climbed into the car. She was trying her very hardest not to cry but couldn’t hold back a sniff. She surreptitiously wiped at her eyes. Neil took her hand. Kathy turned to smile at him, grateful that he seemed to understand. But then he raised her hand to his face and lifted his sunglasses from his nose so that he could see better.

  ‘Yes. That looks like the ring I bought,’ he said. ‘Of course we’ll only know for sure w
hen we have it checked over back in London and matched to the details Tiffany have for it.’

  Satisfied, he let Kathy’s hand go again, so that it fell to the empty strip of seat between them. He hadn’t even noticed that she was wearing the ring on the wrong finger.

  Chapter Fifty-six

  The traffic was bad. It took longer to get to the airport than they’d expected. By the time they were on the road around it, where cars jostled for lane position, like ancient Roman chariots in a race to the death, Kathy could tell that Neil was ready to kick off.

  A few minutes later, she followed him into the terminal, anxious to get ahead or at least alongside him and smooth the way. But Neil knew where he was going this time and he was on a mission. They joined the queue at the check-in desks. It was long.

  ‘We could have avoided this is if we hadn’t stopped to pick up your ring.’

  Though they would have left slightly later, had that been the case, Neil preferred his narrative. Neil always preferred his narrative.

  Kathy could feel the engagement ring on her finger. Because it was too big and kept slipping so that the stones got stuck in the tender dip between her fingers, she couldn’t get used to the sensation of wearing it so that she hardly felt it at all. It reminded her at every moment that she was wearing an engagement ring. A ring she hadn’t expected. A ring she was beginning to realise she would not have asked for. Not now.

  The check-in queue lurched forward. Neil sighed impatiently and she could tell he was winding himself up for a complaint.

  This is going to be your life. You’re signing up to spend your life in this man’s wake, forever smoothing the feathers he ruffles. Forever trying to make him happy. He will always be centre stage. His needs will always come first.

  ‘Make your life together a real duet,’ her father had written.

  Kathy would only ever be Neil’s chorus.

  They got to the front of the queue. Sabina was on duty again. She gave Kathy a subtle nod of recognition as Neil handed over the passports. Tap, tap, tap: she typed their names in. The tip of her tongue poked out of the side of her mouth as she studied the screen. Kathy sensed that something was awry.