The Apartment in Rome

by Penny Feeny

  ‘D’you want a drink?’ said Gina. ‘Tea, coffee, wine, Martini, beer, water, vodka? No Coke, I’m afraid.’

  ‘No thanks.’

  Gina poured herself a slug of red wine. ‘God, I’ve had a harrowing few days! I so need this. Mostly,’ she scowled over the rim of the glass, ‘on account of you.’

  ‘Me!’

  ‘Things were going well. I had an exhibition, something I’d been angling after for years. Some good publicity too. A book commission in the offing. I was flying high. You turn up and there’s that stupid business with the glue and then the picture… And as for your father – ’

  This was unfair. ‘He used to be your boyfriend, didn’t he? But how could I know that? It’s not like you told me anything.’

  ‘What difference would it have made?’

  ‘A lot, if you’d been seeing him recently…’

  Gina flapped her hand dismissively. ‘Well, I hadn’t. We split up ages ago, when he met your mother.’

  ‘Oh.’ She was relieved to hear this, though it sparked another train of thought. ‘Do you mean if she hadn’t come along you two might have stayed together? And then you might have been my mother instead? Wow.’

  ‘Sorry to disappoint, but no. Because you wouldn’t have been born.’

  Sasha hadn’t meant the observation seriously, but Gina’s tone puzzled her. It was fraught with bitterness. ‘Hey, what did my dad do to you?’

  ‘Nothing. That’s the nub of it, Sasha. It’s the sins of omission that matter. He neglected me, you could say. You may have noticed: I’m an attention seeker. I don’t care to be overlooked.’

  Every time Sasha decided Gina’s attitude was insufferable, she would make some unexpected remark that showed she was sensitive after all. Now she’d kicked off her pumps and curled up in the chair opposite, nursing her glass and looking pensive, even a little bit tragic. And Sasha couldn’t help hauling her up in her estimation again. If you had a stepmother manqué, wouldn’t you want her to be like this fascinating, enviable, mysterious woman?

  ‘There’s nothing for you to worry about,’ Gina said. ‘We’ve been going over a bit of old ground but I’m not stealing him back. Too much water under the bridge. So now that’s out of the way, will you give it to me, please?’

  ‘What?’

  ‘You know perfectly well what I’m talking about.’

  ‘No.’

  ‘What d’you mean, no?’

  ‘I mean I won’t give it to you.’ Sasha’s bag was on her lap and the cushion lay on top of the bag. She didn’t think Gina would try to wrestle it away from her, she wouldn’t want to risk any damage to the drawing. ‘Until you tell me why you did it.’

  ‘Did what? Darling, you’re the one who owes me an explanation. You hustle your way into my apartment, rummage around until you find a key…’

  ‘We found it by accident.’

  ‘…Unlock what is obviously a private storage box, help yourself to the most valuable item in it and smuggle it out of the building. Theft on a pretty major scale, wouldn’t you say?’

  ‘I didn’t know it was valuable.’

  ‘Then why steal it? What the fuck did you think it was?’

  Sasha couldn’t tell her, but she intended to stand her ground. ‘I guessed it might be important because it was hidden away. I didn’t want to keep it. Actually I wanted to exchange it.’

  ‘For?’

  ‘You must know what for. Those pictures of me!’

  Gina rocked back in her chair. ‘So you’ve been to the exhibition. I wondered if you had.’

  ‘Why did you even have to take them?’

  ‘Because that’s what I do. I’m a photographer. And it was a gift – the perfect shot, no need to retouch or recompose. You’ve no idea how rare that is. My work can take for ever to get right. The finished product might look artless but there’s been a lot going on behind the scenes. Half the time you don’t even know what’s in the frame till afterwards, when you’re uploading. But in the case of you and Joe lying there, I could see it all right. It was so powerful, I couldn’t ignore it.’

  ‘Even if it was an invasion of my privacy?’ said Sasha.

  ‘You squat, uninvited, in my house. You shag my protégé. I think I’m the one who’s privacy’s been invaded.’

  ‘Protégé?’

  ‘I’m trying to distinguish between a lad who’s lost everything and needs a helping hand and a privileged little daddy’s girl like you.’

  The insult was deliberate, though Sasha would have shared anything and everything with Joe if she’d had the chance. And she could produce plenty of arguments to show she wasn’t half as spoilt or privileged as a whole load of other kids she knew, but that would take her in the wrong direction, which was no doubt what Gina wanted.

  ‘You didn’t have any right to stick me up on a wall, though, not without getting my permission. I bet you asked all the others in the show, Sami and such.’

  Gina responded more calmly. ‘Yes, that’s true. In fact, I hadn’t intended you to be included in the first place. There were a couple of shots of Antonio I’d taken that I mixed in with the rest. Bertie had originally agreed to let me use them, but then the bastard changed his mind and I had to find a substitute. David picked out the Aftermath pictures. He thought they were terrific, that they made such a good story. It was all very last minute and I never thought you’d see them. I didn’t even know how to get in touch with you.’

  ‘Yes you did. You could have used Facebook.’

  ‘Well, anyway,’ Gina drained her drink and set down the glass, ‘I don’t know what you’re making such a fuss about. Your own father didn’t recognise you.’

  ‘Because he hasn’t seen me without clothes on since I was eight.’

  ‘And dozens of other people have?’

  ‘Well, they have now.’

  ‘Darling, nobody could possibly know who you are. Even your hair’s different.’

  This was true; it was longer, sleeker, but that wasn’t the point. ‘It’s not just about the exposure. That was a special moment in my life and you’ve totally ruined it.’ A single tear slid down the side of her nose.

  Gina didn’t notice. She was drumming her fingers on the arm of her chair, appearing to reconsider. ‘As it happened, I turned down a potential buyer.’

  Sasha flushed. ‘Someone wanted to buy them? Oh my God! He must have been a massive weirdo.’

  ‘Not necessarily. Anyway I said no.’

  ‘If you hadn’t, I could have sued you.’

  ‘In the Italian courts? Be my guest. Your father would have to file the suit on your behalf and I’d’ve had a counterclaim against you for trespass, theft and distress. We’d be batted back and forth to infinity. But don’t worry. You can keep your knickers on. I’m not selling.’

  ‘You won’t exhibit it anywhere else or publish it or whatever?’

  ‘Not without your permission.’

  ‘Like I’m going to give it!’

  ‘One day,’ said Gina, ‘you might see things differently. You might even be proud of the image. It’s very strong, very beautiful. I appreciate the whole episode was a bit of a watershed for you, but you know what, you’ll have other romances, more grounded, more lasting. It was, after all, a particular set of circumstances that brought you together and for such a short time.’

  ‘What makes you think it’s over?’

  ‘Do you really need me to spell it out? For one thing, it’s hard to make a relationship work if you live in different countries, as I should know… and for another, you’re both very young. Joe isn’t in a situation where he could commit to anybody. He’s fighting for survival – ’

  Sasha was angry and defensive. ‘He was trying to come to England, he wanted to see me again. If he’d made it, he could have been legit…’

  ‘It really isn’t that simple. He should have waited, not jumped the gun.’

  ‘He did it because you’d sold those other photos of him. The gay porn.’

&
nbsp; ‘I do not take pornographic photographs!’

  ‘Whatever. But he wouldn’t have had the money on him otherwise. So that kind of makes it your fault.’

  ‘How do you know this?’ asked Gina suspiciously.

  ‘He told me.’

  ‘Who? Sami?’

  ‘No, your Lion King.’

  ‘Leone! Ah…’ She bit her lip. ‘Did I see you with a fag earlier?’

  ‘What’s that got to do with anything?’

  ‘I could do with a smoke if you have a spare. Leone always gets my goat.’

  ‘Oh.’

  They went out onto the terrace. Sasha struck a match and Gina cupped her hand around the flame. Sasha lit her own cigarette from the tip of Gina’s. She didn’t smoke much as a rule – mainly rollies late at night when she’d drunk enough not to notice the taste – but there was no doubt the nicotine had a sedative effect. It united them in a temporary truce.

  Sasha said, ‘Why does he get your goat?’

  ‘It was kind of an odd situation.’ Gina plucked a leaf from a lemon scented geranium and crushed it between her fingers, releasing a fragrance more pervasive than the wafting smoke. ‘Me, the Lion King and the Raven Queen. It must have been the most peculiar triangle you were ever likely to find. Theirs was a meeting of the minds, Felix used to say, even though they always argued. I’d let them get on with it because I knew they were both cleverer than I was. Jealousy doesn’t have to be sexual, you know. Leone thought I was after what I could get, which, when you’ve had to fend for yourself since the age of sixteen, is likely to be true. That’s what you are, isn’t it, sixteen? You don’t know you’re born, darling.’

  Sasha said nothing, although she felt very old, positively ancient compared to a year ago, when she’d still been walking the dog and none of this had happened.

  ‘We rubbed along,’ said Gina, ‘because Felix was dying and the sainted Leone was reassuring him about heaven. I was trying to keep everything together. I was going out with a graphic designer at the time who was helping me set up a new web page. But he flipped out when Felix and I got married, so that was the end of that. Leone wasn’t happy either. All I’d wanted was to secure possession of the apartment, but I ended up inheriting the pictures too. And I have bent over backwards ever since to prove that I’m not a gold-digger. I’ve done my bit for the lost boys.’ Her hand was shaking and a column of ash cascaded onto the ground.

  ‘I feel like he can see straight through me,’ said Sasha. ‘That he knows whether I’m telling the truth or not.’

  ‘Yeah, he keeps people on their toes. Maybe that’s his USP. One look from Leone and you have to start examining your motives. Mind you…’ She paused to bury her stub in a plant pot. ‘…You’ll find he’s not judgemental. Hypocrisy isn’t one of his failings. We are all sinners.’

  Sasha supposed she was included in this, that Gina was getting at her again for stealing the drawing. Well, she could have it back now; she was through with being lectured at. ‘I took care of it for you,’ she said. ‘It isn’t creased or anything. I’ve kept it clean and flat in the plastic envelope and – ’

  ‘So the real irony,’ continued Gina as if she hadn’t been interrupted, ‘is that here are you and I’m feeling guilty about our peccadilloes and misdemeanours while he’s committed the greatest crime of all.’

  ‘Who?’

  ‘The Lion King.’

  ‘What did he do?’

  ‘He killed a man.’

  Sasha’s jaw dropped.

  ‘A close friend, I believe.’ Gina seemed pleased with the reaction she had elicited. ‘But it was an accident; manslaughter. Years ago, when he was a seminarian at Villa Palazzola – it’s in the Castelli region and we went there today, which reminded me. He was driving down the hill, too fast, and swerved to avoid an oncoming car; crashed into a tree. His passenger died of internal injuries. No seat belt – Italians like to live dangerously – so it wasn’t entirely his fault. It isn’t common knowledge, by the way. It was pretty much hushed up because they shouldn’t have been out together that afternoon. Skiving in the woods, letting their passions run away with them. Indulging in a bit of illicit frolicking. Hence the hurry, you see – they were going to be late for the Angelus.

  ‘I heard the story from Felix, and if you’re wondering why I’m telling you, it’s because I’m trying to get across the fact that you shouldn’t take anything – or anyone – at face value. He’s a fine man, Leone, a very fine man, who once took a few chances and made an awful error. I’m sure it still haunts him and that’s why he can be difficult to deal with. But don’t let it get to you. We all have skeletons of one kind or another. We do bad, stupid things from time to time. But we can do the good stuff too.’

  Sasha was trying to digest this information, trying to work out whether it made any difference to the way she thought about the priest and his project. She was imagining the consequences of such a dreadful accident when she caught her friend’s voice floating through the air and was momentarily disorientated.

  ‘They’re back,’ said Gina peering over the railings. ‘You’d better give me the drawing.’

  ‘You will keep your promise about the photos? I can trust you?’ Recalling, as she spoke, that this was a woman whose motto was ‘Trust no one’.

  ‘A bargain is a bargain,’ said Gina holding out her hand.

  ‘Can I ask you one more thing?’ The words came out in a rush. ‘What happened to Thomas Stanhope, your little boy?’

  Down below Ruby was swinging her helmet. Mitchell rang the doorbell.

  ‘You’ll have to ask your father.’

  30

  Mario drove Gina to David’s; she wanted to arrive in immaculate condition. Besides, she couldn’t have walked because she was wearing her new, shockingly extravagant, staggeringly high heels from Dolce & Gabbana. Red was her lucky colour. The gallery was closed so she had to ring the bell.

  ‘What have we here?’ mocked David as he let her in. ‘The Wicked Witch of the East? Or Dorothy trying to get home to Kansas?’

  ‘Sod off, darling. I decided to treat myself.’

  He led her through the echoing exhibition space into his office and opened the chilled drinks cabinet set into a faux marble column. ‘Ready for a drink?’

  ‘Go on then. White wine. I need it. Is he here yet?’

  He shook his head. ‘He may be delayed.’

  ‘I don’t see why you’re being so mysterious about him. Anyway, while we’re waiting, I have something to get out of the way.’

  She threw herself on the sofa and kicked her shoes onto the limestone floor, where they gleamed like freshly spilt blood. She pulled the drawing out of its folder and handed it to David. ‘I thought maybe you could sell this for me.’

  When he grinned his teeth were aggressively white. ‘Jeez, Gina, you’ve still got it.’

  ‘Why did you think I hadn’t?’

  ‘Well, Felix always had the Cy Twombly in pride of place, right? So when I didn’t see it any more I figured you’d already got rid of it. Guess I thought somebody had made you an offer you couldn’t refuse.’

  ‘You never said anything.’

  ‘Maybe I was kinda hurt you hadn’t consulted me.’

  ‘I never could make up my mind whether I liked it. After it fell off the wall and the glass smashed, I decided to put it somewhere safe. And it’s caused me so much hassle lately I don’t want to hang onto it any more. I can’t take the responsibility. Do you think it’s a good time to sell?’

  ‘Sweetheart, none better. The price I could get for this, you could buy yourself a goddam apartment. Well, a down payment at least.’

  ‘For real?’ This was the news she had hoped to hear, but it still made her gulp.

  David opened a drawer and wrapped the picture in a protective parcel of tissue, card and bubble wrap. He unhooked the large canvas from the wall and twisted the combination dial on his hidden safe. He locked the parcel inside. ‘You did well out of that guy,’ he said.


  ‘I’d rather have him alive, any day.’

  ‘So would we all.’ He replaced the canvas and turned to her, shaking his head. ‘But he’s had you stuck in a rut for years, kid. Time you grew up.’

  Fake-youthful, bleached-blond David, indulged by the tolerant, older Sergio as he ran around with adolescents, chasing new blood – how dare he? ‘You’re telling me to grow up!’

  ‘Somebody has to. Cut yourself some slack.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Look, I know this maybe sounds a little harsh, but how long is it since Felix died?’

  ‘Nearly five years.’

  ‘And have you moved on?’

  ‘Well, of course I have.’

  ‘So how come that apartment’s such a shrine to him? Why are you hanging onto every single piece of his furniture? Hey, I know it’s classy but you’ve said a million times it’s not what you’d choose.’

  ‘I bought a new sofa bed. I haven’t got around to the rest, that’s all.’

  ‘Gina, hon, you will never get around to it. I’m telling you, the best thing you could do is start fresh. Right now you could give the head-shrinkers a field day. Sell off Felix’s furniture – it should be worth quite a bit – and get some stuff of your own that you really like.’

  ‘I just need to get things sorted…’

  ‘With Boletti?’

  ‘Well, yes, partly. What are you getting at? Is there something I should know?’

  David didn’t say anything. He’d gone back to the drinks cabinet and was fiddling with the cork of the wine bottle.

  Gina glanced into the dim deserted gallery, the shadowy portraits on the walls. ‘He is coming, isn’t he?’

  ‘I already told you, he’s stuck in traffic.’

  ‘He’d better be worth waiting for.’