by Penny Jordan
Not that she could be absolutely sure yet that she wasn’t pregnant, she thought as she stripped off and stepped into the shower. It was still early days. But the girl in the chemist yesterday—it was called a farmacia in Italy—had assured Veronica that this particular test was the latest and best and could detect a pregnancy as early as a week. Given it was now Sunday morning, nine days after she and Leonardo had first had sex, then the test should be accurate. But she would take the test again in a few days, having followed her mother’s advice to buy two kits.
But she wouldn’t worry about that today. Today, she could at least go to lunch with the Fabrizzi family without having to pretend that everything was fine. But first she would text her mother with the good news.
* * *
‘Veronica,’ Elena whispered to her during dessert. They were sitting next to each other in the middle of the long table under the pergola, with children on either side.
‘What?’ Veronica whispered back, immediately tensing up at the urgency in Elena’s voice.
‘I need to speak to you after lunch. Alone.’
‘All right.’
About what? Veronica wondered, her stomach rolling over with sudden alarm. Nothing good, that’s for sure.
Finally, after lunch was over and all the thank-yous and goodbye hugs had taken place, Veronica looked at Elena and said, ‘Would you have the time to walk back with me, Elena? I know you must be good with technology since you do all the bookings for the hotel and I need some help with Laurence’s computer.’
Elena smiled at her inventiveness. ‘Yes, of course. Franco, would you look after the children for me?’
‘So what did you want to talk to me about?’ Veronica asked as soon as she had Elena safely alone.
Elena stopped walking. They were halfway up the stone steps.
‘Are you going to see Leonardo again?’
Veronica decided not to lie to Elena. ‘Yes. Next weekend.’
Elena frowned. ‘Here?’
‘No. We’ll meet up somewhere. Rome, possibly. Or Venice.’
‘Are you in contact by phone?’
‘He’s going to ring me tonight.’
Elena frowned. ‘Do you know where he went last night?’
‘Yes. To a charity ball in Milan.’
‘Do you know who he went with?’
Veronica stiffened. ‘No. Who?’
‘Lila Bianchi. She’s an Italian model. Very beautiful. Very sexy.’
‘He…he said he was going alone,’ Veronica choked out.
Elena stared at her, then shook her head. ‘I knew it. You are in love with him.’
‘I…’ Veronica closed her eyes against the dismay which flooded through her. She’d known all along what kind of man Leonardo was. But even she hadn’t thought he would lie to her like that.
‘Come,’ Elena said, and took her arm. ‘I will show you the photos. They are all over social media this morning.’
When they got up to the villa, Elena pulled her phone out of her pocket and brought up the photos of the ball. There were several of Leonardo with this Lila woman draped all over him. In one photo they were dancing cheek to cheek. In another, she was kissing his neck. The final straw, however, was the one of him going arm in arm with that creature into some apartment building.
Nausea swirled in Veronica’s stomach, bile rising into her throat. She swallowed, then looked away. ‘I don’t want to see any more,’ she said. ‘I’ve seen enough.’
‘I am ashamed of my brother,’ Elena said forcefully. ‘He is not worthy of you.’
‘No,’ Veronica agreed. ‘He isn’t.’
‘Are you going to see him again?’
‘No.’
‘Please don’t tell him I showed you the photos. He will be very angry with me.’
‘I won’t even mention that I have seen them. I’ll make up some excuse and tell him that I’m going home ASAP.’
‘Oh. Now I feel awful. I should not have told you. I have spoiled your holiday.’
Veronica’s smile was sad. ‘You did the right thing, Elena. And I thank you. Please don’t worry. You’ve saved me from making an even bigger fool of myself.’
‘Leonardo is the fool,’ Elena snapped.
‘He will be a lonely old man one day,’ Veronica muttered, then came forward to give Elena a hug. ‘He won’t ever have what you and Carmelina have. Yes, you’re right. He is a fool. Now, go back to your husband and children and be happy. I have to ring the airline and change my flight.’
After Elena left, Veronica slumped down on the terrace and tried to get her head around those awful photos, especially the last one she’d looked at. Impossible to pretend there was any logical explanation for them. They spoke for themselves. Leonardo had gone to the ball with that creature and no doubt taken her to bed afterwards.
This last realisation brought a wealth of pain. And a rush of tears.
How could Leonardo have lied to her like that? she agonised. What kind of man was he?
The kind of man you’ve always known he was, came the bitter answer.
A playboy and a player.
No way, Veronica determined as she dashed away the tears, was she going to give him the opportunity to lie to her again. And he would lie, if she confronted him with those photos when he rang her tonight. No…she intended to do what she’d said to Elena. Make up some excuse why she had to go home ASAP and then cut him dead.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
LEONARDO HAD TO have a lie-down late that Sunday afternoon, something which he couldn’t remember doing in years. Last night had been a nightmare, with Lila having latched onto him as soon as he’d arrived at the ball and made it impossible for him to extricate himself from her clutches without being rude. If she hadn’t already been contracted as the main model for next season’s ski-wear, he would have told her to get lost in no uncertain words.
Of course, she’d been totally stoned. On top of that, she’d had an argument with her boyfriend and come alone, determined to find some man to make the boyfriend jealous. Leonardo had been an excellent mark, since he was handsome, rich and, in a way, her boss. He’d been in a no-win situation from the start, unable to get rid of her, yet knowing full well that everything he did would be photographed and misinterpreted, fodder for all the gossip websites and magazines.
Never had a night seemed so long, or so emotionally exhausting. He’d had to smile and make speeches, all the while worrying what Veronica would think if she saw reports of him dancing with Lila at the ball. Not that she was likely to. Capri was rather isolated when it came to mainland gossip. Though there was always social media. Nowhere was safe any more. Best he tell her about it upfront tonight, even the part about having had to see the stupid girl safely home at some ungodly hour. She would understand. Surely? Veronica was quite the pragmatist. And not given to dramatising things.
A glance at his watch showed it was just after four in the afternoon. He’d promised to ring her this evening. When did evenings start, exactly? he wondered. Seven? Eight? He wanted to hear her voice. Wanted to hear her say, yes, Leonardo, of course I’ll spend next weekend with you. Wherever you like, darling.
He doubted she would go that far. Just ‘yes’ would do for now.
Dio, he was tired. Yawning, Leonardo closed his eyes and drifted off.
* * *
Veronica couldn’t get a flight until Wednesday, not on the same airline and without spending a small fortune by upgrading to business class. She supposed she could last until then. Her flight took off early in the morning, so she would make her way to Rome on the Tuesday then stay at one of the airport hotels that night.
She spent the rest of the afternoon keeping busy so that she didn’t fall into a depression. She packed, cleaned the bathroom then returned to the living room to read another of her father’s books. This time, it di
dn’t hold her attention. In the end, she put it down and went out onto the terrace.
By the time her phone rang just after seven, she felt very down. But furious as well. When she saw Leonardo’s name on her screen, she wanted to throw the damned phone against the wall. But she didn’t. Her fingers tightened, as did her lips.
‘Leonardo,’ she said in a rather droll tone. ‘You remembered to ring.’
His hesitation to answer showed he’d heard the sarcastic edge in her voice.
‘But of course,’ he replied at last. ‘Did you doubt me?’
Doubt him?
No, she didn’t doubt him. She’d known he would ring.
‘I don’t have a lot of faith in the opposite sex,’ she said truthfully. ‘But I’m very glad you rang,’ she swept on. ‘Unfortunately, my mother is not well and I have to go home earlier than expected, so I’m afraid I can’t join you next weekend.’
Again, a few seconds went by before he spoke. ‘What is wrong with her?’ he demanded to know, as though sensing she was lying to him.
‘She’s always had a weak chest. When she gets a cold, it quickly becomes bronchitis, which sometimes turns into pneumonia.’ Actually, this was quite true. But of course Nora didn’t have a cold at the moment.
‘She has pneumonia?’
‘Not yet. But it’s heading that way if she doesn’t rest.’
‘I see.’
‘I’m sorry to disappoint you, Leonardo, but it’s a case of family first. My flight leaves on Wednesday morning. Anyway, it’s not as though we were going anywhere. It was just a fling, as you very well know.’
‘No, I do not know,’ he bit out. ‘Maybe it was to begin with but I thought… I hoped…’
He actually sounded upset.
Too bad, Veronica thought angrily. The man was a bastard. And a liar. The only thing he hoped for was more sex.
‘I’m sorry,’ she said with little apology in her voice, ‘But I did warn you. Now, about the villa…’
‘You want to talk business with me?’ His astonishment was obvious.
‘Why not? You still want the villa, don’t you?’
‘I don’t feel like talking business with you right now,’ he said coldly. ‘I will contact you via email after you arrive home. Goodbye.’ And he hung up.
Veronica blinked at the abruptness with which he’d ended the call, all her anger dissipating in the face of the reality that it was over. Never again would he kiss her. Never again would he hold her in his arms. Never again…
Before she could work out her emotions, she threw herself down on the lounge and wept long and hard.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
IT SEEMED TO take for ever for Tuesday to come. On the Monday Veronica bit the bullet and walked down to the Hotel Fabrizzi, repeating her lie about her mother’s illness and saying her goodbyes, as well as quietly reassuring a worried Elena that she hadn’t mentioned anything to Leonardo about the photos she’d shown her. All the Fabrizzis seemed genuinely sorry to see her go, which made Veronica feel even worse than she was already feeling.
Later that day she rang her mother and did her best to sound composed.
‘I’m coming home even earlier than I said. My flight leaves Rome on Wednesday morning.’
‘Oh, that’s a shame. You really needed a long holiday.’
‘Perhaps. But not here.’
‘I see,’ she said with a wealth of knowingness. ‘Have you taken the second test yet?’
‘No. I’ll do it when I get home.’ If by some awful twist of fate it was positive, she didn’t want to be here when she found out.
‘Right. Do you want me to meet you at the airport?’
‘Heavens, no. That madhouse? I’ll catch a taxi home.’
‘Are you sure you’re all right?’ she asked, sounding worried.
‘I’ll survive, Mum. See you on Wednesday. Take care.’ And she hung up before she could burst into tears again.
When Veronica finally came to pack the second pregnancy test, she stared at it for a long time. Then curiosity—or maybe it was masochism—got the better of her. So she carried it into the bathroom and did what she had to do.
Afterwards, she put the stick down on the vanity and walked out, unable to stand there waiting. Was it her imagination or were her breasts suddenly tingling? Surely fate couldn’t be that cruel? She paced around the bedroom for the required time then charged back into the bathroom, snatching up the stick.
‘Oh, no!’ she cried when she saw the result. ‘It can’t be!’
But it was. It very definitely was. She was pregnant with Leonardo Fabrizzi’s child.
Her stomach suddenly heaved and she only just bent over the toilet in time. After flushing away her dinner, she washed out her mouth and returned to the bedroom, where she collapsed on the bed. Her head continued to whirl and she could hardly think straight.
How could this have happened? she wailed to herself.
The usual way, you idiot, returned her pragmatic side. You took a risk and now you’re going to have to pay the price. Serves you right for relying on the rhythm method. What sensible girl does that these days? And what sensible girl sleeps with a playboy like Leonardo Fabrizzi without using condoms?
‘Oh, God… Leonardo,’ she groaned aloud.
He was going to be even more upset than her when she told him. More than upset. He’d be furious with her for having lied to him about the pill. But she would have to tell him about the baby at some stage, because no way was a child of hers going to be brought up without knowing who its father was. Lord, no!
Perhaps she wouldn’t tell him until she was safely past the three-month stage when the threat of miscarriage had passed.
Thinking about miscarrying her baby made Veronica realise that deep down she didn’t want that to happen any more than she wanted to have a termination. This was her child growing inside her, a child born out of love. She could at least admit to herself that she loved Leonardo. Which was perverse, given the kind of man he was. But then life was perverse, wasn’t it?
Her hands came to rest across her stomach as she contemplated what it would be like to be a mother. She hoped she would be a good one. Kind and caring, but not a helicopter mother. Her own mother hadn’t been that, for which she was grateful. She’d allowed Veronica considerable freedom as she’d grown, encouraging her to work as well as to study, to become her own person. She knew she had considerable strength of character when needed. And she would need it now.
* * *
The next morning she had a good breakfast, after which she washed everything up—there wasn’t enough to load a dishwasher—then finished off packing her one case. At eight-thirty she locked up and placed the key back in the geranium pot. Thankfully the weather was still good, if a little cloudy. She hadn’t called a taxi, Franco having insisted that he would pick her up from the Hotel Fabrizzi to drive her down to the jetty. She stood for a long moment on the terrace, gazing out at the gorgeous view and putting it into her memory bank, though she suspected it might not be the last time she saw it. Leonardo would not let his child go easily. Neither would Sophia and Alberto. But she would not think about that yet. Time enough when she had a healthy ultrasound in her hands.
As she headed off towards the path, tears pricked at her eyes. She turned to have one last, longing look at her father’s villa, wondering at the same time if he’d ever envisaged this happening when he’d made his will. Had he hoped that she and Leonardo would end up together? It seemed rather fanciful.
Dragging her case behind her, she started walking down the steep path, dashing away tears at the same time. It happened so quickly. She caught her heel in something and pitched forward. A scream of terror burst from her lips as she crashed down onto the uneven stone steps. Her head hit something and everything went black.
* * *
Veronica wo
ke slowly to a dull headache and a strange bedroom, not to mention a strange man sitting on a chair beside the bed she was lying in. He was quite elderly with a neat white beard and white hair—though perhaps he was not as old as he looked, since his blue eyes were clear and his face not too wrinkled.
‘Where am I?’ she asked groggily. ‘And who are you?’
‘You’re in a guest room at the Hotel Fabrizzi, and I’m Dr Waverly.’
She blinked at him. ‘You’re English.’
‘Yes. I semi-retired to Capri many years ago but continued to practise for people who wanted an English-speaking doctor. I was Ruth’s doctor until she died. And Laurence’s, when he deigned to go to a doctor. Which wasn’t often. Sophia called me in because she thought you would be best with an English doctor. So, how are you feeling, my dear?’
‘Rotten.’
‘I can imagine. You had a bad fall and you’ve been unconscious for over a day. Concussion. Would you mind if I examined you?’
Veronica blinked, struggling to remember the circumstances of this fall.
‘What kind of examination?’
‘Nothing too intrusive. I just want to check you over. Make sure you’re on the road to recovery.’
‘How long did you say I’ve been out of it?’ she asked as he took her blood pressure.
‘Just over twenty-four hours.’
‘Oh, Lord!’ she said, sitting up abruptly. ‘I’ve missed my flight. I have to ring Mum and tell her.’
‘Leonardo’s already rung her and explained.’
Veronica gaped at him. ‘Leonardo’s talked to my mother?’
‘It seems so. And he wants to talk to you. Shall I call him in? He’s just outside.’
‘No!’ she cried out.
‘He knows about the pregnancy, Veronica.’
She slumped back on the pillows, her head thumping. ‘But how?’ she choked out.
‘You never stopped talking about it when you were semi-conscious. You were worried that you might lose the baby.’
‘Oh…’
‘You haven’t, by the way. Your baby’s fine.’
