Legacy of the Past

by Anne Mather

  Diana came forward reluctantly. Maria was not what she had expected either. She felt her own inadequacy become a hard core inside her and consequently her response was sullen. However, Maria showed no dismay and after shaking hands with Madeline’s daughter she went to her father and said:

  ‘Are we dining up here?’

  Nicholas turned to Madeline. ‘Do you want to dine downstairs?’ he asked, and Madeline was conscious of Diana’s annoyance that Nicholas should choose to consult her.

  ‘I think it might best,’ she replied softly, her eyes on his.

  ‘All right. We’ll have a drink first and go down later.’ He walked across to get them all a drink. ‘What would you like? The same as yesterday?’

  Madeline nodded, and Nicholas said:

  ‘How about you, Diana? Would you like an iced orange juice or a cordial?’

  ‘I would like an orange and lemon,’ said Maria, following him across the room. ‘Would that suit you, Diana?’

  Madeline crossed her fingers. But Diana merely replied:

  ‘Thank you. I think I’d like that.’

  The atmosphere was electric. Madeline was aware that it was probably partly in her own mind, but Diana’s presence presented a kind of knife-edge drama. She supposed she was being ridiculous and wished she could be as relaxed as Nicholas and Maria.

  They sat down with their drinks and Nicholas and Madeline lit cigarettes.

  ‘Tell me,’ said Maria, looking at Madeline, ‘have you lived in Otterbury all your life?’

  Madeline shook her head. ‘No, I was born in London and I lived there until five years ago.’

  ‘Oh, I see. I like London.’ Maria sighed luxuriously. ‘I’ve been over here about half a dozen times now and I think I should like to live in London, at least part of the time.’

  ‘Then you’ll have to marry an Englishman,’ remarked Nicholas teasingly, but Maria shook her head.

  ‘I think I’m going to marry an Italian,’ she replied thoughtfully. ‘They’re awfully handsome, don’t you think so, Mrs. Scott?’

  Madeline felt the usual embarrassment at their outspokenness. ‘I don’t really know a lot about Italians,’ she replied quietly.

  ‘I expect you soon will,’ remarked Maria smilingly.

  Madeline inclined her head, deciding not to comment, and Maria turned to Diana. ‘What do you think?’ she asked, trying to draw the other girl into their conversation.

  Diana shrugged indifferently. ‘I don’t think I want to get married,’ she replied coldly. ‘I think a career is more important than being some man’s menial.’

  Madeline felt sick with nerves. It seemed that Diana had decided to be difficult. She was about to make some reproving comment when Nicholas held up his hand and leaned forward in his chair:

  ‘Some man’s menial!’ he smiled slowly. ‘And what do you know about that, Diana?’

  Diana shifted restlessly. ‘I know that most men expect their wives to be continually at their beck and call,’ she said sulkily.

  ‘Do you have anyone in particular in mind?’ Nicholas inquired sardonically. ‘Most of the men of my acquaintance take an active part in the running of their homes and in the care of their children. There is a lot more to marriage than keeping house.’

  Diana wrinkled her nose. She didn’t want to know what his opinions might be. ‘Well, anyway,’ she said, ‘I could think of better things to do than listening to some man boring me with his ideas.’

  Madeline was horrified, but Nicholas merely raised his dark eyebrows and looked suitably chastened. Even so his eyes were twinkling and a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth, making Diana horribly aware that she was making a fool of herself. She looked at the faces of Madeline and Maria and while her mother still looked rather disturbed Maria was smiling, too. In consequence she suddenly hated all of them and pressed her lips tightly together.

  The evening was a failure. Diana’s attitude affected all of them and Madeline for one was glad when dinner was over and they could leave. Both Nicholas and Maria had done their best to put Madeline at her ease, but she longed to get away.

  Nicholas drove them home at nine-thirty. When they reached the block of flats, Nicholas turned in his seat, and said:

  ‘You go on up, Diana, if you don’t mind. I want a word with your mother.’

  Diana got out of the car without a word, not bothering to thank him for the delicious dinner she had consumed, and after she had gone, Madeline looked ruefully at Nicholas.

  ‘What a terrible evening it’s been,’ she said unhappily. ‘I don’t know what you must think of us.’

  One hand cupping her head, Nicholas looked thoughtfully at her. ‘What Diana does is not your concern,’ he said. ‘It’s simply that she is frightened and confused by things she doesn’t understand.’ He sighed. ‘I was not much help either, was I?’

  She rested her head against his shoulder. ‘She has no reason to feel like that. Surely she knows after all this time that I would never do anything to hurt her.’

  Nicholas’s lips caressed her cheek. ‘I had better go,’ he said with some reluctance. ‘Can we see one another tomorrow?’

  Madeline frowned. ‘Could we leave it until the following day?’ she asked, rather tremulously. ‘That will give me time to try and make Diana understand.’

  ‘All right. We will have dinner together, is that reasonable?’

  Madeline slid out of the car and looked back at him. ‘You do understand, don’t you, Nicholas?’ she said.

  He gave an amused smile. ‘I’m trying to,’ he replied. Then he frowned. ‘Just make sure you are ready when I arrive two days from now.’ He gave her a whimsical look and then drove away down the road.

  When Madeline got in Diana was already in bed and feigning sleep. Madeline decided there was little good to be achieved by rousing her and starting an argument, so she went to bed silently and did not even say goodnight.

  In the morning, Diana went off to school with barely a word, and although Madeline ached inside she did not stop her. Why must Diana behave like this? After all, it was not as though anything definite had been decided. As far as Diana was aware, her mother and Nicholas Vitale were only friends and there was no cause for her antipathy except pure jealousy, of which she would have to be broken.

  At school, Madeline worked automatically, her mind still active with the remembrance of the previous evening’s dinner.

  When she got home in the evening and she and Diana were having their evening meal, Diana said: ‘Are you going out again this evening?’

  Madeline looked up. ‘No, I’m not. Why?’ As yet she couldn’t find it in her heart to be particularly understanding towards her daughter.

  Diana shrugged her shoulders. ‘I just wondered,’ she said casually. ‘Are you angry with me?’

  Madeline gave her an old-fashioned look. ‘Now why should you imagine that?’ she inquired rather coldly.

  Diana had the grace to look a little ashamed of herself. ‘Well, I don’t care anyway. I told you I didn’t want to have dinner with them in the first place. They’re not our type of people.’

  Madeline gave her an exasperated stare. ‘And who is our kind of people?’ she asked angrily. ‘I suppose you’re going to bring Adrian’s name into this again.’

  Diana made a moue with her lips. ‘Well, Adrian at least isn’t amusing himself at our expense,’ she retorted. ‘You can’t possibly think that Nicholas Vitale would seriously involve himself with you!’

  ‘I think you’re a very unkind and selfish girl,’ said Madeline with difficulty. ‘But don’t imagine that anything you say will influence me in this. I’m quite old enough to look after my own affairs.’

  ‘You’re determined to make a fool of yourself!’ exclaimed Diana.

  Madeline clenched her fists. Her impulse was to slap Diana hard. She had no right to speak to her mother in that manner whatever her own feelings in the matter.

  Instead, she rose from the table and walked into the bedroom,
closing the door, and leaving Diana to her own devices. In truth, Diana did feel she had said too much now, but some devil inside her was driving her on.

  The following evening as Madeline got ready to go out she wondered whether she was being rather foolhardy in risking her daughter’s friendship for the sake of a man she had known less than a week. But when she went down to meet him all doubts sped away.

  She was wearing a suit this evening, for it was warm and she required no coat. The slim-fitting outfit of bronze tweed looked well on her and tonight she had put her hair up in the French knot, and tendrils of amber curled in the nape of her neck.

  Spring seemed to have arrived at last and the air was fresh and sweet. The sound of the river gurgling in the distance lulled her anxious nerves and she suddenly felt that what she was doing was right.

  Nicholas helped her into the car and slid in beside her. His eyes appraised every detail of her appearance and then he said: ‘Why have you put up your hair?’ with a whimsical expression.

  Madeline automatically ran a questing hand over her hair. ‘Don’t you like it? Does it look untidy?’

  ‘I guess it’s okay, it’s simply that I like it loose. Don’t ever have it cut, will you?’

  Madeline smiled, relaxing. ‘Not if you don’t want me to,’ she murmured, and his eyes caressed her before he put the car into motion and they purred down the Gardens.

  They turned away from Otterbury tonight, towards Highnook, which was a village on the outskirts of the town. Beyond the perimeter of this section was a small hotel which Madeline had never even known existed. It was here that Nicholas took her, parking the car in the forecourt and consequently dwarfing the area.

  Before they got out of the car, Nicholas turned towards her.

  ‘I thought perhaps it might be better not to be alone,’ he murmured softly. ‘Do you mind?’

  Madeline smiled. ‘I don’t mind as long as I’m with you,’ she replied simply, and for a moment he pulled her to him and pressed his mouth to hers.

  ‘I have some bad news,’ he murmured slowly, his mouth against her ear.

  Madeline’s heart dropped to her feet and she felt the blood drain out of her face. ‘What is it?’ she asked, dreading his answer.

  Nicholas cupped her face with his hand. ‘I have to go back home tomorrow.’

  ‘To Rome?’ Madeline’s voice was barely a whisper.

  ‘I’m afraid so.’ He kissed her eyes warmly. ‘Will you miss me?’

  Madeline sighed heavily. ‘Don’t be silly,’ she murmured dejectedly. ‘You know the answer to that.’ She drew her face away from his hand abruptly.

  He smiled. ‘I know. But I’ll only be gone for a few days.’

  Madeline looked up at him in amazement ‘But I thought you meant for good.’

  Nicholas chuckled. ‘I know. I was just testing your reaction.’

  Madeline shook her head. ‘I think you’re mean,’ she said reproachfully.

  ‘Do you?’ He was smiling at her, and she cupped his face with both her hands. It was wonderful knowing she could be this intimate with him and she put her mouth lightly to his, tempting him but not satisfying his need. For a moment he let her have her way, and then his arms closed about her and forced her up against him. ‘How am I going to go on like this?’ he muttered at last, when they were both breathless and emotional.

  Madeline shook her head and murmured: ‘Are you sure you really want to go on seeing me? You’re not just playing with me?’

  Nicholas forced her head up and his eyes were brilliantly angry.

  ‘I bet that little daughter of yours is responsible for that remark,’ he muttered furiously.

  ‘Yes, she was,’ admitted Madeline wearily, taking his hand and holding it against the curve of her neck. As she did so, something hard dug into her fingers and she pulled his hand down again to examine the cause. It was an emerald-studded signet ring he wore on his little finger. An exquisite gold ring that must be worth a fortune.

  ‘Do you like it?’ he murmured, as she ran her fingers over the hard surface of the stones, and the initials engraved on the gold.

  She smiled up at him. ‘It’s beautiful Did your wife give it to you?’

  He shook his head. ‘Joanna and I only knew one another for a few months before our wedding. I met her when I first went to the American branch of the company – her father was running the Detroit end at that time. I guess I was young and impressionable, and I certainly didn’t realize that Joanna saw in me a chance to live an international social life. Anyway, when she became pregnant she wasn’t at all pleased and she blamed me for ruining her life. Unfortunately the baby was premature, and while she was in the convalescent home she contracted a virus which left her in a very weakened condition.’ He gave an involuntary lift of his shoulders. ‘She died soon afterwards and naturally I blamed myself. But time has a way of healing all things, and Maria herself provided me with a reason for going on.’

  ‘I’m sorry.’ Madeline bit her lip.

  Nicholas sighed. ‘It was all a long time ago now,’ he said. Then he drew the ring off his finger and taking Madeline’s hand he withdrew her wedding ring and replaced it with the signet ring.

  Madeline stared at him in surprise, and he said: ‘You’re the first woman to wear a ring of mine given in love. The rings Joanna wore were something else. I suppose you could say my father bought her for me. She came from an aristocratic Boston family.’

  Madeline twisted the ring round her finger. ‘But I couldn’t possibly wear this, Nick,’ she said.

  ‘Why not?’ he asked, gently removing the hairpins from her hair so that it began to tumble about her shoulders. ‘There, that’s better, I can run my fingers through it now.’

  Madeline shivered in his arms and when at last he released her he said: ‘I’ll ring you on Monday, from Rome. I may have to go to Vilentia, too. Wherever I am, I’ll get in touch with you. I leave in the morning and bearing in mind that I’ll have most of Monday and Tuesday to work, I should get back on Wednesday or Thursday. Wear the ring while I’m away, please.’

  Madeline hesitated. ‘All right,’ she whispered at last. ‘If you want me to.’

  Because of his impending departure, the remainder of the evening was bitter-sweet, and Madeline felt that the next few days would seem like years.

  Nicholas was ever conscious of his own increasing attraction for Madeline and of how important she had become to him in such a short space of time. He wanted to tell her how he was feeling; beg her to go with him and marry him at once, but he decided against it. It was too soon. She might think he was spinning her a line. It would have to wait until he got back from Italy. He no longer felt any desire to go. His earlier, constant interest in the business had become of secondary importance now, compared to his feelings for Madeline. There was so much he wanted to do for her; so many places he wanted to show her. But first, he wanted to tell her he loved her, and hear that she felt the same.

  He left her almost abruptly at the apartment, promising to ring as often as he could. He could only ring her at the school as she had no telephone, and it irked him to know he couldn’t contact her direct.

  Madeline felt near to tears as she watched the taillights of his car disappear on to the main road, but her fingers touched the ring and she no longer felt afraid.

  * * *

  During the days that followed, Madeline lived in a vacuum from which she emerged when he telephoned. As good as his word, he rang her on Monday afternoon. His voice was clear and seemed so distinct that she could hardly believe he was out of the country. He told her about his journey and his subsequent meeting with his manager in Rome. He told her he was missing her, but preferred not to say too much when there were so many miles between them.

  Madeline hadn’t mentioned anything to Diana about Nicholas going away, and if Diana had noticed the ring she certainly gave no sign. However, there was a large article in the paper about Nicholas’s departure, and Madeline realized that Diana would not
miss reading that.

  On Saturday Adrian had come to the flat to ask whether their weekly dinner date was still on. Madeline was taken aback, but she said: ‘Well, yes, if you like.’

  Adrian frowned. ‘Are you still seeing that damned Italian?’

  As Madeline didn’t know that he knew she was meeting Nicholas at all, she looked surprised, and he said hastily: ‘Oh, I saw young Diana in town yesterday. She told me you were going out with Vitale.’

  Madeline flushed. ‘Hardly,’ she murmured coolly. ‘He’s in Rome at the moment.’

  Adrian was taken aback. ‘In Rome? Has he returned so soon?’

  ‘He has business there,’ returned Madeline, looking down at her finger-nails to avoid his eyes.

  ‘Very well.’ Adrian turned to go. ‘I’ll be around at the usual time.’

  ‘All right.’ Madeline looked up. ‘And Adrian…’ he halted, arrested by the tone of her voice. ‘I don’t want a repetition of this conversation, nor do I want a lecture. If we do go out, we avoid all discussion of – of Mr. Vitale.’

  ‘Very well,’ agreed Adrian, in an aloof tone. He was slightly flushed himself and he obviously was struggling to say something. ‘Is – is Diana taking this well?’

  ‘Didn’t she tell you?’ Madeline’s voice was icy.

  ‘She didn’t sound enthusiastic,’ admitted Adrian awkwardly.

  ‘She’s not. But then she won’t try to like Nick.’

  ‘From what I gathered she likes him well enough,’ remarked Adrian dryly. ‘She simply objects to what she calls “your ridiculous attempts to cling to your youth”.’ ‘What?’ Madeline was astounded. How dare Diana discuss her mother with Adrian?

  Adrian had the grace to look embarrassed. ‘I…er…I naturally reproved her,’ he said quickly.

  Madeline frowned. ‘Did you? Or did you encourage her? She’s your ally, not mine.’

  Adrian frowned and ran a finger round the inside of his collar. ‘That was rather rude, Madeline.’

  ‘But not uncalled for,’ retorted Madeline hotly.

  ‘She is your daughter, Madeline.’

  ‘Do you think I’m allowed to forget that?’ she cried in despair. ‘Oh, go away, Adrian. Leave me alone, please.’