by Penny Jordan
‘She took you with her?’ He heard the question in her voice.
‘Antonia no doubt tells a different story,’ he responded, ignoring her furious blush. ‘But, yes, she took me with her—and later, when the business was bigger, when I was at school and my mother was working the same ridiculous hours I do now, she still came home every night; she still kissed us goodbye each morning.’
‘So what went wrong?’ Catherine pushed gently, seeing the wistful look in his eyes, and slamming her fingers between the shutters she just knew were about to come down.
‘One day it became a job—not a labour of love, not a passion. Just a job. She had obligations—houses, cars, boats—and as you can imagine Antonia didn’t come cheap.’
‘Antonia?’
‘My father was having an affair. He had barely worked a day in his life. It was my mother who provided for us and he got bored. That was my father’s excuse anyway. The night before my mother died she had a headache. She was more tired than I’ve ever seen a person, and yet she still had to make calls, had to go and check out a property. I found her crying in the study. That was when I discovered she knew about my father’s affair. She said she was tired, that she just wanted to lie down and sleep, that after the Christmas break she would sort things out…She died the next day. A stroke, the doctors said. It could have happened at any time. But I know different. If she hadn’t been working—hadn’t been pushing herself—’
‘You don’t know that, Rico,’ Catherine broke in, but she knew her words fell on deaf ears—knew there was no room for manoeuvre. But just when she thought it was over, just when she thought the conversation was closed, again Rico surprised her.
‘Part-time, Catherine. You can work part-time if that’s what you want.’ His eyes implored her to listen. ‘And the day it gets too much—the day you feel you shouldn’t be there…’
‘I’ll stop.’
‘You have nothing to prove to me, Catherine, but if this is something you feel you have to do…’
‘It is.’
And now that he had given a little—now that he had allowed her to glimpse a tiny piece of him—perhaps for the first time since the police had arrived at her door Catherine allowed herself to relax, allowed herself to just sit back and take in the world around her.
Rico was amazingly good company. When he wasn’t being superior, when he actually let up, he had a wicked sense of humour, and as the dessert plates were cleared away Catherine was amazed to hear that the laughter filling the tiny restaurant was coming from her.
‘You should laugh more often,’ Rico said, taking her hand. ‘It suits you.’
‘It feels good,’ Catherine admitted.
‘I want you to be happy, Catherine; I want us to be happy. You, me and Lily.’
‘I want that too.’
On Rico’s instructions the driver had long since gone, and they walked hand in hand along the Yarra River, following its majestic curves. The warm, still night air was filled with hope, and for a while they blended in—and Catherine had never been more happy to do so, never been more happy to seem two young lovers on the threshold of their future.
‘Thank you.’ She turned her gaze to his. ‘For understanding.’
‘Marriage is supposed to be about give and take,’ Rico said lightly, but there was an edge to his voice. ‘Hopefully I do a better job than my father.’
‘Don’t be too hard on him, Rico.’ In the moonlight they stood, her eyes searching his, imploring him to listen. ‘It must have been hard on him too. He was an immigrant, a labourer; I bet he was a proud, hard-working man.’
‘He was,’ Rico admitted, albeit reluctantly. ‘Mind you, once my mother started making money he was only too happy to give up and reap the benefits of her hard work.’
‘Are you sure he was happy?’ There was a long silence, and Rico made to walk away, but Catherine pulled on his sleeve and after a slight hesitation he turned back, ready to listen to what she had to say. ‘Normally it’s the other way around—isn’t it, Rico? Especially in Sicilian families. Normally the husband is the breadwinner; look at how opposed you are to me working.’ He opened his mouth to argue, but Catherine was too quick for him. ‘The man is supposed to be the provider while the wife stays at home?’
‘Then why didn’t he work? Why didn’t he join her in the business, take over the books, do something to ease her load?’ Rico countered, and Catherine hesitated before answering. Her answer was not one she was sure Rico was ready to hear.
‘Your father can’t read, Rico.’
‘Don’t be ridiculous.’ Rico’s laugh was derisive, the superior scathing man back now, but Catherine refused to be intimidated.
‘I’m sure of it, Rico.’
‘He’s a clever man…’
‘I’m sure he is,’ Catherine responded. ‘And a proud one too. Can you imagine how hard it must be for him, Rico? How hard not to be able to read his bills, the snappy little letters you send him? The small world he must live in when he can’t even look at a newspaper?’
‘You’re sure?’
‘I’m sure.’ Catherine nodded. ‘Please, Rico, try not to view him so harshly, try and understand your father’s side too.’ He gave a small nod which, however tentative, Catherine took as a sign of encouragement. ‘Maybe it wasn’t so easy for your dad to sit back and do nothing. However much I don’t condone it, maybe in some way having an affair made him feel a man again. Who knows what goes on in people’s lives, Rico? Only your mother and father know the full story.’
‘And Antonia,’ Rico added bitterly.
‘Antonia knows your father’s version,’ Catherine said thoughtfully. ‘And, however much you might loathe her, your father clearly loves her. Surely that must count for something?’
He didn’t respond—Catherine had never really expected him to—but this time when he walked away he reached for her hand and took her with him, walking in pensive silence along the river. And despite the lack of conversation, despite the endless problems that lay between them, never had Catherine felt closer to him.
CHAPTER TWELVE
‘YOU’LL be okay?’
Standing in the hallway, almost bristling with excitement at the day ahead, Catherine picked up her briefcase.
‘I’ll be fine.’ She laughed. ‘Yesterday was wonderful.’
‘You were tired last night,’ Rico pointed out. You fell asleep on the sofa after dinner.’
‘It was my first day back,’ Catherine answered, buttoning up her jacket and checking her reflection in the mirror.
She could scarcely believe the smiling face that stared back. Going back to work had truly been a godsend. With the eternal teacher shortage, her school principal had welcomed her back with open arms—and Catherine had been only too pleased to run. Rico might not understand her need for independence, but even he had reluctantly agreed last night that she seemed happier. Oh, she wasn’t stupid, knew that the money she would be earning would be like loose change to Rico, but it was her money, the independence she craved. It was a reason to put on her lipstick in the morning, a chance to use her brain, to escape the undoubtedly luxurious but nonetheless stuffy confines of the house. And even though it was early days she felt as if she now had so much more to give. Even though she had been physically tired, Catherine had been imbued with a curious high when she arrived home last night. She had played with Lily with the same gusto Rico managed to muster on his return, even woken to give her her two a.m. feed. Going back to work was surely the right thing, and she moved quickly now to reassure Rico, terrified of having her new-found freedom taken away, determined to prove she could do it all. ‘I’ve only got today to do, then I’m finished till next week; I’m hardly slaving away.’
‘You realise you’re in the newspaper?’ He pulled the paper out of his briefcase and handed it to her, but Catherine shook her head.
‘I don’t need to see it, Rico. I know the journalists followed me to school yesterday, but they’ll soon get bored; they�
��ll soon find another family to hound.’
‘It doesn’t look good,’ Rico insisted, but Catherine merely laughed.
‘So the company shares are sliding because a Mancini woman is actually going out to work? We’re in frantic financial trouble and relying on my part-time teacher’s wage to support us? Come on, Rico, they’re clutching at straws to make a story out of it—and anyway, it was your mother, a mere woman, who founded the company. Remind them of that when you blast them this morning.’
‘You really don’t give a damn what people think, do you?’
‘Do you?’ Catherine asked.
‘Normally, no. But I am worried about what the social worker is going to say.’
‘The social worker happens to be called Lucy,’ Catherine said with a slightly weary edge. ‘Lucy has two children herself, and if you’d bothered to find out you’d also know that her husband happens to be one of the leading consultants at the hospital. So she more than anyone understands that women need to work for so much more than money these days, Rico.’
‘I never realised you were such a feminist!’
‘Get used to it.’ Catherine grinned. ‘And if this so-called newspaper’s article moves the sisterhood on an inch then I’ll be a happy woman indeed.’
‘Happy’s good,’ Rico said softly, and Catherine felt her smile fade, replaced instead with a nervous lick of her lips as their eyes locked. Tension seeped in, but not the head-on, angry confrontation that had become so much a part of them—this time it was a thrum of togetherness, a sexual awareness that had never really gone away, just faded a touch from neglect. And when Rico moved a step forward she shivered with excitement as he moved closer.
‘Are you both off, then?’ They both jumped as Jessica came out to the hallway, holding a bleary-eyed Lily, her hair all sticking up. Catherine felt her heart trip. The eyes staring back at her melted her for a second so fleeting, so fragile, Catherine was almost scared to acknowledge it—almost scared to comprehend that the maternal instinct the social worker had promised would ensue might actually be stirring.
Last night she had come home, tired but elated after her first day back at work, and as she had climbed the stone steps of her new home a curious bubble of elation had welled inside her—almost a need to get inside, to see the little girl she hadn’t even realised she’d missed.
‘I’ll be back around five,’ Catherine responded. ‘Though I can’t vouch for Rico.’
‘Seven,’ he quipped, but his face softened as he made his way over to Lily. ‘So save her bath for me, Jessica. And as for you, little lady…’ He tickled the baby’s chin, and Catherine watched as her face lit up, a smile breaking on her sleepy face. ‘Make sure Jessica chooses a good bedtime story for me to read to you—preferably one with no songs!’
‘Is that what that awful droning was last night?’
He didn’t answer, his face concentrating intently on Lily before he turned to Catherine with an incredulous smile. ‘I think she’s getting a tooth!’
‘Really?’ Making her way over, Catherine peered at the gummy mouth. Rico tickled Lily to ensure she laughed enough for a good view. ‘She is too.’
Such was the happy atmosphere in the hallway Catherine was almost reluctant to leave it. For a while there they almost looked like a normal family, celebrating one of life’s tiny milestones, and most amazingly of all she relished it. But Jessica was a stickler for the clock, and soon pointed out that if they didn’t get a move on they’d both be late.
‘I’ll see you this evening.’ Catherine smiled, kissing the plump cheek almost without thinking about it, taking in the soft baby smell and lingering just a second before turning away.
Now came the difficult part.
For the staff’s sake, appearances were always kept, and every morning as Rico left for work they always kissed—only on this morning it didn’t feel so staged; on this morning it felt like the most natural thing in the world. But though it might feel natural, it didn’t lessen her awkwardness. A furious blush darkened her cheeks as she lifted her face to his, and something in the way his hand snaked around her waist, something in the way his lips dusted hers, held hers for just a moment too long, told Catherine this wasn’t a kiss for the cameras. This kiss was loaded with the passion that had lingered unchecked for so long, loaded with the tenderness that was starting to tentatively grow between them.
‘I’ll see you tonight.’ His voice was gruff, his pupils dilated as he stared down at her pink cheeks, taking in her glittering eyes, feeling her chest rise and fall against his. His head moved a fraction, so when he spoke his words were for her ears only. His hot breath tickled her ears, making her toes curl just at the sound of it. ‘You can save your bath for me too.’
‘No songs,’ Catherine teased, but her eyes grew serious, the magnitude of tonight starting to take shape in her lust-dazed mind.
‘No songs,’ Rico said softly. ‘But maybe we could put some music on, have dinner up in our room…’ Reluctantly he let her go, but took her hand as they left the house, walking towards their cars. Rico’s driver nodded and held the door open as Catherine dived into her rather less impressive, infinitely unreliable but much loved car, winding down the window as Rico knocked on it.
‘I’m going to be late, Rico!’ she warned.
‘Will your feminist principles object to me buying you a decent car?’
‘Not a bit.’ Catherine grinned. ‘You see, the wonderful thing about being a woman in the twenty-first century means you really can have it all. But nothing too flash,’ she added hastily.
‘Mustn’t outshine the principal,’ Rico said dryly, but his eyes were smiling. ‘Here.’ Tossing the newspaper through the window, he gave her one final knowing smile. ‘You know you’re dying to see yourself.’
‘I couldn’t be less interested,’ Catherine lied, but she didn’t hand the paper back.
‘Suit yourself.’ Rico shrugged, turning to go, then halting again. He swung around on a smart heel, a mischievous smile inching across his lips. ‘And next time the press are around do up your blouse!’
Determined not to give him the satisfaction of knowing he’d piqued her curiosity, Catherine pointedly started her car and headed out of the long driveway into the peak hour traffic.
She didn’t get very far.
Pulling into a side street, she almost tore the newspaper in her haste to get to the said article, scanning the photo with a critical eye and letting out a groan as she saw the rather vast expanse of cleavage, courtesy of a forgotten button. A loud toot had her practically jumping out of her skin, but her annoyed look faded into laughter as Rico’s car slid past, with Rico giving a knowing wave as the headlights flashed.
Truly caught, there was nothing for her to do except smile and rather sheepishly wave back.
As she pulled off the handbrake, the smile stayed put.
Oh, it wasn’t much—in the scheme of things it barely added up to anything—but sharing a laugh was always good: their history in the making, a tiny step in the right direction…
* * *
Her glow didn’t last that long. Somewhere mid-afternoon, Catherine’s elation at being back at work wore off. Her back ached and so did her head, with the children’s raucous laughter growing more grating by the minute. Lily’s two a.m. feed, was clearly catching up with her.
Even the thought of a night in Rico’s arms barely lifted her gloom as she cleared up the classroom and pulled her bag over her shoulder. All she really wanted to do was get home and soak in a bath alone for an hour and sleep.
‘It’s good to have you back on board, Catherine.’
Marcus Regan caught her as she dashed out of the staff-room. With his glasses perched on the end of his nose, he was a typical principal in every sense, and though she dearly wanted to get home, Catherine adored her boss and would never dismiss him.
‘It’s good to be back, Marcus. I’m sorry it’s only part-time, I know how short the school is.’
‘We are at
that.’ Marcus scratched his grey hair and Catherine could see the worry lines on his kind face. She hadn’t told him about her pregnancy—it was still early days yet—and wasn’t looking forward to it, if the truth be known. Staff were scarce on the ground, and the way Marcus’s voice had lit up when she’d rung to see if work was still available had spoken volumes. ‘Some mornings I wonder if we’re actually going to have any staff to run the school. Still, it’s good to have you back, Catherine. How’s married life treating you?’
‘Wonderfully.’ Catherine smiled. It was a lie she was so used to telling it came without thought, but remembering the way Rico had held her this morning, she was able to impart it with at least a semblance of honesty.
‘Well, I’d better not keep you. We’ll see you Monday morning.’
* * *
Lily was seriously getting more gorgeous by the day, and her little face lit up as Catherine dashed through the door. She held out her fat little arms for a cuddle, but the gush of tenderness that had filled Catherine on her return yesterday was markedly absent. Catherine literally felt as if she were going through the motions as she played with the little girl. Guilt tore at her heart, and she was eternally grateful when Rico appeared bang on seven to give Lily her customary bath. Catherine perched on the edge of the tub, watching with a quiet smile as the slick sophisticate disappeared before her eyes. She was almost tempted to invite the inevitable photographers outside to come in and witness Rico in tender mode. That superior face was softer now, his expensive silk tie ruined for evermore as it dangled in the soapy water, his five o’clock shadow dotted with bubbles as Lily splashed and squealed in delight, moaning in protest when Catherine finally declared the water was getting cold and Rico should lift her out.
‘Now comes the hard part.’ Rico held up Lily’s sleep-suit, frowning as he wrestled two fat legs and two wriggling arms into the garment.
‘Don’t ask me to help with the buttons.’ Catherine shuddered. ‘No matter how hard I try to get it right, Jessica comes in and promptly re-does them.’
