by Iris Danbury
The atmosphere at dinner that evening astonished Althea. Though it was only this morning when Emilia had abused her daughter and raised Cain over the matter of singing at a cafe, all was now apparently sweetness and light. Carla betrayed no touch of sulkiness but was animated and gay, Emilia was her gracious but lively self and Lawrence full of chatter and anecdotes. Althea wondered whether the benign influence of her visit to San Michele was now enabling her to view everyone through rose-coloured spectacles, but eventually decided that the other three must have come to better terms during the afternoon.
Whatever the reason, she was relieved that the tension was over. For some time after dinner Lawrence and Emilia and the two girls sat on the terrace until the two older people withdrew into the salon.
‘Your mother seems to have recovered her good temper since this morning,’ Althea remarked idly.
Carla laughed. ‘Oh, Mamma’s bad moods do not last long.’ She flung herself back in her chair and clasped her hands behind her beautiful dark hair. ‘Now everything is coming right for all of us.’
‘How many of us?’ queried Althea, smiling at her own not too despondent thoughts.
‘Now you can see that Kent and I will become one couple.’ Althea remained silent. Was Carla entitled to be so sure of Kent? But the girl was already rattling on with her neat plans of everyone’s future.
‘Then there is Cristo for you, Althea.’
‘Oh no!’ Althea was quick enough to refute this unwelcome suggestion.
‘Cristo is quite pleasant when you know him well, and in Rome you would have a lovely life if you were married to him.’
‘I certainly don’t want to marry him, nor do I want to live in Rome,’ asserted Althea.
Carla looked disappointed. ‘Oh well, perhaps not, but I thought it might be so nice, with me married to the Englishman and you marrying an Italian.’
‘We can’t all marry men of some other nationality just to please you, Carla,’ Althea pointed out.
‘No,’ the other girl said thoughtfully. Then, as a new thought occurred to her, ‘Perhaps you would prefer the Englishman who is the artist? He is quite nice. Not very handsome, true, but he looks kind. Has he fallen in love with you yet?’
Althea laughed at this naive question. ‘I’ve no idea. I haven’t asked him.’
‘Oh, I could do that for you,’ offered Carla.
‘Oh, please don’t!’ Althea was extremely opposed to any interference from Carla, however kindly meant.
‘You are most awkward!’ Carla grumbled. ‘You are spoiling my nice plans.’
‘Sorry. What plans?’
Carla paused before replying, as though she were being careful to choose the right words. Then, ‘Have you not guessed that your father would like to marry my mother?’
Althea sat up straight and leaned towards the other girl.
‘My father?’ she echoed.
‘He likes Mamma very much, and she is very simpatica towards him.’
Althea now had no words to comment on this new possibility.
‘You would be offended. Why?’ demanded Carla.
‘No, not offended. Just very surprised.’
‘But sometimes you have thought that your father might marry again, have you not? Suppose you are married, then who would look after him? He is not old and ho is too nice to be left to a cook or a housekeeper.’
‘Yes, I can see that point of view.’
‘Then there is my mother,’ continued Carla. ‘She also is not old and—if you will forgive me—she is still pretty, even though she is plump. My father died three years ago, nearly four years now. It is not disrespectful that Mamma does not wish to live to be seventy without another man to help her sometimes with her problems and look after her.’
Althea mustered a smile of part reassurance. ‘All these reasons are very good ones. It’s just that I’d never thought about the possibility.’
‘Then that was because your father, Lorenzo, had never met anyone who was suitable until he met Mamma. Oh, I am now very glad that you have both come to Capri, for you see, I shall have a new father and one who is charming. Also, Althea, Mamma would be a kind and loving second mother to you. I know it is many years that you have been without your mother.’
Althea rose. ‘Excuse me, Carla, but I’d like to be alone to think about all this.’
‘Lorenzo has not told you of his ideas?’ queried Carla.
‘Not yet, but of course he will as soon as he makes his decisions,’ returned Althea. Loyalty to her father was in danger of being weakened at this moment, for how was it that Carla was in a position to communicate news of this unexpected development? ‘Has he told you anything definite?’
Carla shook her head. ‘No. Naturally he will talk to you first, but Mamma has spoken to me. She would not undertake to marry a second time if I could not like her new husband.’
Althea admired this practical manner of assessing a new situation.
‘You must have noticed,’ Carla continued, ‘how Lorenzo is most attentive to Mamma. He has taught her card games and sometimes they laugh together over phrases of our languages that they do not know.’
‘Oh yes, I realise how well they get on together,’ agreed Althea.
In the privacy of her bedroom she tried to examine the problem, although she admitted it was scarcely her personal one. If her father decided to marry Signora Marchetti, there was little that Althea could do to prevent him. A second marriage on both sides needed more than an exchange of idioms in another language and the acquiring of a few card games. She was confident that her father would base his contemplated second marriage on a firmer understanding than superficial companionship.
How far could Althea rely on Carla’s supposition? What if it were all wishful thinking on the part of the Marchettis? If Althea dropped a hint or two on the subject and her father laughed at the idea, then nothing but disharmony could result.
Her mind turned towards these aspects which might affect her. Naturally she wanted her father to find happiness in his middle life, but she must face possibilities that had not yet occurred to her. If he married Emilia, then almost undoubtedly he would continue to live here in Capri. Was that why he was so anxious to establish a shop that would tie him to the island?
Again, there was the question of giving up the house in London. He would scarcely need to keep that on if he had no use for it. That meant that, although she had agreed to stay with her father in Capri for a year or so, she would eventually have to decide whether to stay here or return to England and take up her own life there. A small smile curved her lips at the thought that it might not be necessary to look so far ahead into the future. If Kent? But that was too idle a dream. She had to concern herself with practicalities.
Each day she waited for Lawrence to broach the subject, for she would give no hint herself in case Carla’s expectations were entirely unfounded. Yet there were pointers that her father had already assumed partial control over the two Marchettis. Carla was allowed to resume her singing lessons in Naples, provided she did not appear as a performer in any cafe or elsewhere without her mother’s permission.
‘I pointed out to Emilia that Carla is a good girl at heart and only a bit impulsive sometimes, which is natural at her age,’ he told Althea one morning.
‘And Carla? Has she agreed to the conditions?’
‘She’s given me her faithful promise not to accept any introductions or sing with bands and so on. I persuaded Emilia to regard her daughter as really grown-up for these times and no longer a schoolgirl.’
Althea noticed that Carla had promised Lawrence as well as assuring her mother.
Then there was the reinstatement of Kent who was no longer banned from the villa. Althea had said nothing of that visit to Monte Solaro and subsequently San Michele. She had intended to mention the incident casually to her father if not specifically to Carla, but with these far more important problems looming in front of her she had forgotten it.
One morni
ng Lawrence and Kent were apparently making a fairly thorough tour of inspection of the Villa Stefano, both outside and in, and Althea came upon them as Kent was pulling away a small piece of crumbling wall at one corner.
‘This is the side that gets most of the south wind, the sirocco. The stucco becomes cracked, then disintegrates, although the stone wall itself is fairly sound.’
‘Structurally then, the villa is in fair condition, you’d say?’ queried Lawrence. ‘The facing needs attention in places, the pergola ought to have new supports and the interior of the villa could do with a thorough redecorating.’
‘That’s about the size of it,’ agreed Kent. He waved a hand at Althea who stood by.
‘Kent is making a preliminary inspection of the villa,’ explained her father—an unnecessary remark, Althea thought.
‘Yes, so I see. Are you going to put it ship-shape?’ she asked Kent.
‘Polite architects wait until they’ve been given a commission,’ he retorted.
For a brief moment she was exultant. If Kent was given the job of refurbishing the villa, that would mean that he might stay in Capri for some considerable time.
‘Oh, I don’t expect to take up Kent’s valuable time on this son of thing,’ her father broke in. ‘If I know what needs to be done and I have Kent’s expert advice, then the work can go ahead—according to Emilia’s wishes, of course.’
That last phrase seemed belated. Yet Althea tried to guard against reading into every casual remark a more proprietorial interest than actually existed.
Kent stayed to lunch and Carla was delighted at this mark of acceptance as a welcome visitor, but almost immediately after the meal he excused himself on the grounds that he wanted to do certain urgent work on his villa.
‘The summer is racing by and soon I shall have to leave Capri and pick up some of my other work in England. I can’t leave some parts of my villa in such a raw state.’
To Althea’s surprise and, perhaps, chagrin, he asked Carla if she wanted to spend an hour or two there with him. ‘If your mother permits?’ he asked Signora Marchetti courteously.
Carla was overjoyed to be given even this token of freedom and went off happily down the path, her arm linked in Kent’s.
Althea wondered mildly if Kent now wanted to show her that one trip up Monte Solaro and the walk down was not to be construed as anything more than a pleasant afternoon spent in amicable companionship.
Emilia found tasks to busy her in the kitchen and Lawrence suggested to Althea that he had received a batch of samples of silks this morning and she might like to see them.
In the sitting-room of the ‘gingerbread house’ Althea turned over the colourful fabrics, feeling the texture, holding them to the light. She knew the moment had now come when her father would take her into his confidence.
‘What d’you think of them?’ he asked casually.
‘The materials? Yes, I think they’re just the kind to attract the customers.’
‘I’ve more important plans than just buying a few silks from Milan or Lyons. We could branch out into importing English tweeds and woollens. That’s where you’d come in—visits to England and Scotland. We must buy from the mills direct.’ He paused for a moment, then continued, ‘There’s something else, much more important to both of us. I’ve decided to marry Emilia.’
Althea admired her father for coming straight to the point. Before she could offer any answer, congratulatory or otherwise he went on, ‘I’ve spoken bluntly and I want you to do the same to me. If you feel that this is a course you couldn’t possibly contemplate—’
‘Oh no, Father, not at all. I’m glad you’ve found a woman with whom you can visualise spending your more leisured middle years.’ She kissed his cheek. ‘Be happy with her.’
‘It’s more than twelve years since your mother died,’ he murmured, ‘so I don’t think I’m being unduly hasty. Also, I can’t expect to keep you tied to me. You’ll marry and want a home of your own.’
She glanced at him with amusement in her eyes. ‘Are you marrying Signora Emilia just for the sake of home comforts and tasty Italian food?’ she queried.
He grinned. ‘You know me better than that! Emilia and I have many interests in common.’
‘Including an ability to play cribbage and other card games.’
‘And other pursuits besides card games,’ he corrected her. ‘Emilia and I have talked over some of the important questions,’ he continued more seriously. ‘She owns this villa, but her finances don’t stretch to the proper maintenance of it. This is where I can help. I shall take over the maintenance and repair of the place, although it will still belong to Emilia.
Dr. Fortini will give me advice in the matter of legal questions, he says. For a medical man he’s very knowledgeable about the law.’
‘I can see you’ve given the matter very serious thought,’ she said quietly, ‘but how will all this affect your health if you also have the proposed shop to cope with as well?’
‘Actually, I think it will help. I shall have enough to occupy me here in Capri and with the responsibility of two lively Italian women and one English blonde bombshell, I shan’t be able to hare off to Milan or London or Scotland. That’ll be your job.’
‘What will you do about our house in London?’ she asked. ‘That’s a decision in which you must share. If you want to keep it as a possible future home, then I shall entirely agree. It need not stay idle and empty; it could be let on a short lease, say, a year or so, perhaps. I’ll make it over to you in any case, so that you can feel a free agent.’
‘But how about the financial side of it?’ she queried. ‘Won’t you need to sell the house so that you can put the money into the Villa Stefano?’
‘Oh no. I’ve enough resources to take care of that. Besides, I owe it to you first to provide you with a home so that you’re independent. It might turn out after a year or so that you’re tired of Capri and want to live somewhere else. Or even—let’s face it—that you’re tired of the two Marchettis. If that happens, then you need a home or its value to enable you to be free and live elsewhere.’
‘That’s very good of you, Father, to give this matter so much thought and attention. On this London house I think I might like a little time to decide. We’ll do nothing in a hurry.’
He smiled at her. ‘That’s my sensible girl,’ he murmured affectionately.
‘Have you fixed the wedding?’ she asked.
‘I couldn’t do that without first asking my daughter’s permission,’ he reminded her.
She laughed. ‘I can see that our usual roles are reversed. I freely give my gracious consent to Emilia taking your hand in marriage.’
‘Then I hope the time may come when I’m giving you away to some fine upstanding young man,’ was his reply.
A vision of Kent’s features, often sombre in repose when he was in her company, but gay with merriment when he was with Carla, rose in her mind, but she pushed the fleeting impression out of her mind. It was unlikely that the ‘fine upstanding young man’ to whom her father referred so lightly would be Kent Sanderby. She mused that both she and Carla were in the same boat if either of them believed she could win any kind of permanent devotion from him. He was already hinting that very soon he would have to leave Capri, and the inference to be drawn was that while happy enough to dally with one girl or another, he had other interests elsewhere which were just as important to him. Althea, Carla and perhaps a few other names were merely items of a string of memories—Souvenir of Capri, perhaps.
CHAPTER SIX
Althea took the first opportunity of giving her best wishes to Signora Emilia.
‘I’m very happy for my father,’ she said when they were alone together. ‘It was a lucky chance that we came to Capri.’
Tears of happiness shone in Emilia’s dark eyes as she embraced her prospective stepdaughter.
‘I will be very good to him and look after him well,’ Emilia promised sincerely. ‘His health—he is not very stro
ng—and I will make him happy. You, carissima, must always think of this as your home. I shall not take him away from you.’
Althea smiled. ‘No, I know that. I shan’t make any hasty plans yet for going elsewhere.’
‘When we are married, Lorenzo and I, you will be able to have your apartment all for yourself if you desire it,’ said Emilia. ‘But if you like it better, you could have another room in the villa.’
‘I love the “gingerbread house”,’ Althea answered quickly. ‘You understand? Like the one in Hansel and Gretel?’ Emilia’s eyebrows lifted. ‘But she was a witch who lived in that house! You are not a witch!’
‘I hope not, for everyone’s sake. But I like living there,’ Althea declared. ‘It’s like having a small house all to oneself.’
‘Oh yes. There you can entertain your own friends when you choose,’ Emilia pointed out. After a slight pause, she said more diffidently, ‘I do not wish to cause you distress, but it is a long time since your mother died. Perhaps, now you are grown up, you can look to me as your mamma? Tell me your troubles and let me help?’
‘I might be very glad of your help at some rime,’ Althea assured her warmly.
‘Already Carla thinks of Lorenzo as a new father and is most willing to agree to his wishes.’
After this mutually comforting interview, Althea noticed that Emilia made more effort to integrate the girl into the household. Until now, Althea had been careful not to infringe on her hostess’s territory in any way, but now Emilia consulted her on many small matters, particularly in the kitchen and on the problems of refurnishing.
Althea discovered that between Lawrence and Emilia there had been one difficult obstacle to overcome. Emilia was not keen for her new husband to turn shopkeeper.
