Stefano was undoubtedly handsome, but I did not find myself attracted to him. He was slim, and about the same height as Aidan, but there were grey shadows under his rather puffy eyes, and he did not have the bearing of his school friend. When his dark eyes rested upon my face, they took on a predictable expression. “And this must be la cugina!”
“Indeed,” said Aidan, a little stiffly, as if I were really his young cousin. “Stefano Bassini, Sarah Freebody.”
Breathing down his nose with a sort of satisfied sigh, Stefano took my hand and kissed it. “Who would have thought that Aidan has such a beauty in his family?”
I responded with a shy smile, though I was wearily familiar with the look on Stefano’s face. “Pleased to meet you, Signor Bassini.”
“Oh, call me Stef!” He pulled my hand to his chest and held it there. “Signorina, I have a question for you. Tell me, have you ever considered a career in pictures? My father could get you a part tomorrow, just like that!”
I was ready with the story Aidan and I had rehearsed. “Oh no, not at all! Er … thank you very much, but I am training to be a teacher of languages.”
He still did not release my hand. “So your loveliness will be visible only to your students?”
I said nothing, but lowered my eyes modestly. When I looked up again I was just in time to see Stefano and Aidan exchange a “what can you do?” look. My pretence of being a bluestocking when I was dressed, made up and bejewelled like a screen siren was laughable enough, but Stefano’s lasciviousness was even more absurd. “I must get you a drink,” he was saying, rubbing my fingers between his own. He barked in Italian at a uniformed manservant, who hurried away. “Paulo will bring some of my father’s special champagne,” continued Stefano. “Only the best for my dear friend and his lovely cousin!”
“Gio is very generous,” said Aidan politely.
Stefano continued to study me. “Why have I not met you before? I have known Aidan since we were boys.”
Again, we were ready with our story. “Sarah and her family have been living in Canada for some years,” explained Aidan. He had assured me Stefano would not be able to tell a Welsh accent from a Canadian one, and the place where I had ostensibly lived had to be far enough away for Aidan’s cousin never to have turned up at a school event. “They have only been back six months.”
“And what is the signorina doing in Castiglioncello?” Stefano asked, still caressing my hand.
“Learning Italian, and keeping house for Aidan,” I replied.
Stefano’s gaze travelled lazily to Aidan. “Keeping house? So that is what they’re calling it these days, is it?”
“Stefano!” chided Aidan. “Sarah is my cousin, remember. And she’s very young. This is her first trip away from her parents.”
Stefano’s dark eyes were still fixed on me. I could not look at Aidan, but his words had hinted that he expected me to put the next stage of our plan into action. “I may be young,” I said to Stefano, hoping my expression was as innocent as I intended, “but Aidan is so old-fashioned, he treats me as if I were a child. You are not old-fashioned, are you, Stef?”
His face relaxed, though he did not quite smile, and he looked down at me benevolently. “That depends on what you mean by old-fashioned. I suppose I am old-fashioned in that I believe an exquisite little thing like you should be with a man who appreciates her.” The expression in his eyes intensified, and he lowered his face towards mine. “It must be lonely for you when Aidan is working. Will you allow me to show you our little town of Castiglioncello? And perhaps we could have a drive to the countryside?”
“That would be lovely,” I said appreciatively. “You are very kind.”
He turned to Aidan. “You do not object to that, do you?”
“Not at all,” replied Aidan lightly. “I would rather Sarah were with you than some stranger.”
Stefano smiled widely and bowed, and at that moment Paulo arrived with the champagne. When we had taken sips and made approving noises, Aidan again took up the conversation. “Oh, Stef,” he said, as if it had just occurred to him, “there’s someone I’d love to introduce to Sarah, and I think he’s one of Gio’s set. Do you know if David Penn is here?”
Stefano was surprised. “But I understood you and David Penn are not on good terms, since…” Not being sure how much la cugina knew, he had to content himself with a meaningful glance at Aidan.
“Quite right. We got into a fight,” said Aidan, his glass at his lips. “It was hilarious, actually.”
Stefano looked unconvinced, so I laid my hand on his arm. “It’s all right, Stef, they won’t attack each other in your father’s house, and actually, I’m dying to meet David Penn.”
“I believe he has been invited tonight.” Stefano’s smile was forced. “Perhaps we shall run across him this evening. Will you dance, signorina?”
“I’d love to.” I nudged Aidan. “Come on, slowcoach, ask one of these girls!”
But Aidan had extracted the information he wanted. “Actually, I think I’ll go and seek out Gio. Are there canapés on the terrace?”
“Aidan, you’re being very boring!” I told him.
Stefano was beaming. “If you would rather eat canapés and speak to my father than dance with a beautiful girl, that is up to you,” he said to Aidan, “but I cannot understand it.” He took the champagne glass from my fingers, set it down and held out his arm. “Now, my dear Sarah, I’m sure you know this American dance, the Charleston?”
He soon discovered I was not a practised dancer, so he gave up trying to do the Charleston or any other dance, and merely held me close and steered me backwards between the other couples. I allowed him to put his cheek close to mine and whisper in Italian for a few minutes. Then, when I judged he was off his guard, I raised my voice above the music. “I do wish Aidan were more adventurous, don’t you?”
Stefano spoke carefully, as if choosing his words. “He was pretty adventurous when we were at school, you know. I don’t know how many times I got into trouble because of him.”
“What did he do?”
“Oh, smoking, drinking, going to places that were out of bounds.”
I laughed, “Well, he still does that! The smoking and the drinking, I mean. But for someone who works in such a glamorous business, he’s so dull. Did you know he absolutely refuses to take cocaine even though everyone he knows does? I said I bet he could get some from someone on his film – I’d love to try it – but he refused, and he was so grumpy, Stef. I sometimes think he just doesn’t want to have fun.”
We danced in silence while Stefano pondered this. My heart was fluttering a little. This was the part of what Aidan and I had planned that was most likely to go wrong. And Aidan was not here to help me or give me cues.
“Perhaps Aidan is conscious of your parents’ disapproval. You are, as he has told me, very young.”
“I’m eighteen!” I exclaimed. “And even if my mother does think things like champagne and cocaine the work of the devil, she’s in England, and we’re here!”
“What do you know about cocaine?” he asked. He was smiling, but his eyes were wary.
“People take it to give themselves a kick, don’t they? Aidan says David Penn takes it. Is that true? I would love to know what that kick feels like.”
“And you are not afraid to try it?”
I looked straight at him. “No, not at all.”
We danced until we were hot, then Stefano suggested we go out onto the terrace to get some air. “And some more champagne, of course,” he added.
“And canapés?”
“Naturally, if Aidan has not eaten them all.”
The terrace, lit by strings of lanterns, was high above the bay. Stefano took two glasses from a passing waiter’s tray and led me to the parapet. Far below, the lights of Castiglioncello followed the coast like a diamond necklace. I breathed the warm air and smiled at Stefano over the rim of my wineglass. “This place is so beautiful! How lucky you are to live here!”
>
He did not reply, but leaned against a pillar and looked into my face. “Are you absolutely sure you wish to be a teacher?”
“Yes, I think so.”
“But you are unlike any teacher I have ever known. Exquisitely beautiful, as perfect as a china doll, and happy to embrace new experiences such as … your mother would disapprove of, shall we say?”
“My mother,” I assured him loftily, “knows very little about me!”
“In truth, I am a little surprised she allowed you to come to Castiglioncello with Aidan at all.”
“Oh, don’t be!” I told him. “He is her favourite nephew!”
There was a sudden clatter. Stefano looked round, then back at me, half-smiling. “Speaking of her favourite nephew…”
Aidan was being helped up. As he fell he had taken a tablecloth with him, spilling loaded platters and a bowl of punch on the stone floor of the terrace. In the flurry of scurrying waiters and exclaiming guests that followed, Aidan’s voice could be heard protesting that he was perfectly all right, that everyone should just carry on, though he felt a bit strange, must be too much champagne, and maybe he had better go.
“Stef, my good fellow!” he cried as we approached. “Will you take care of Sarah? Put her in a car after the party?” He leaned against the wreck of the table, breathing noisily. “I feel a bit peculiar.” He loosened his tie. “Seems warmer out here than it did indoors.”
I felt his forehead. “Aidan, you’re terribly hot! You must be ill. Come on, let’s go home.”
“Not at all, wouldn’t dream of it. You stay here with Stef and have a good time. One of Gio’s people will take me back.”
“Are you sure?”
“Quite sure.” He smiled wanly. “You two enjoy yourselves, won’t you? Now, where’s Paolo?”
The party went on while the night grew darker and darker, until the villa resembled a bright planet in a void of blackness. Below, the lights of the town gradually went out; above, there was no more than a sliver of moon. My headache increased to such an agonizing level that I could no longer concentrate on anything but the pain. Apprehension, energetic dancing and several glasses of champagne made me feel as if I were floating – not in a relaxed way, as one does just prior to sleep, but precariously, on something shifting. My limbs seemed separated from my body, and my brain from my head. And still, even though hours passed and people came and went to and from the ballroom and the terrace, David Penn did not appear.
I did not know what to do. If the party broke up before I managed to see him, it might be a long time before Aidan and I would have such an opportunity again. I tried to gather my wits and make an alternative plan, but in the end I sat down on a velvet-covered chair and allowed my head to fall forwards. I felt defeated.
“I am having a wonderful time, Stefano,” I told him, “but I have such a headache! Do you think the party will go on much longer?”
“That depends on what you mean by the party.” He surveyed the remaining guests. “Most of these people will go home in the next hour, but some of us – perhaps you wish to join us? – will make a night of it.”
“Do you mean stay up all night?” I knew it was important that Aidan had pretended to be ill so that he could leave me here alone, but at the same time I wished he had not. I wished I could go home, take some aspirin and go to sleep. But I had to act my part. I raised my head. “Oh, how exciting! Shall we watch the sun come up?”
“If you like.” Stefano scanned the room again, perhaps looking for a particular person. “Now, if you have a headache, don’t you think we should get away from this noise? Let’s go and see who’s in the garden.”
He led me through an arched doorway and down some marble steps. We crossed a courtyard with an ornamental fountain in the middle, to a terraced garden with immaculate lawns. The air was warm; people had brought lanterns from the house and hung them in the trees. Their meagre light revealed a different party altogether. The company was mostly composed of men, but there were a few women sitting on the men’s laps or on the grass at their feet. Dance music was playing quite loudly, though the band had departed by now. I guessed it must be coming from a gramophone somewhere. One couple was dancing, frantically, ahead of the music. They looked almost manic, the girl shaking her head so violently that her feathered headdress had slipped over one eye. Neither she nor her partner seemed to notice.
Empty glasses and cigarette stubs lay on the lawn. Some people were smoking, and some were doing what looked to me like taking snuff. But the substance before them was not brown, and they did not put it on their hand and apply it to each nostril. It was a white powder, like finely ground sugar, and they sniffed it up their noses by means of tubes of paper.
My heart drummed, worsening my headache. Stefano had brought me out here to join the guests who were going to “make a night of it”. Wealthy people looking for a new plaything. People who took cocaine. And then my heart almost stopped. I saw the back of his head – recently barbered, blond – and the instantly identifiable curve of his neck and shoulders. But I was not afraid. In fact, I was excited. At last. At last, David.
He was in his shirt sleeves, with his collar loose and his hair over his forehead, bending over a garden table. A thousand-lira note was rolled up between his fingers and he was sniffing up a line of white powder with solemn attention.
He did not see me, and Stefano, not noticing David either, led me past. We pushed our way through a group of several men and two intoxicated-looking girls. I tried not to care that people were staring at the shortness of my skirt as I sat on a cushion on the grass. Stefano took a twist of paper from his pocket. “If you are ready for a new experience, Sarah, why not try this? It will do your headache good.”
He opened the paper. Inside was not the white powder, but something that looked like tobacco. “But I don’t smoke,” I said.
“Then now is a good time to start,” he said patiently. He began to roll some of the substance into a cigarette paper. As I watched, my heart leapt. It was a cigarette paper just like the one that had led me to Aidan. I still had that paper, folded very small, in the corner of my jewellery case. “This is marijuana, or cannabis,” Stefano was saying. “It has several names, as it is smoked all over the world.” He held the cigarette out to me. “Here, try it. Take it in, hold it and breathe out slowly.”
I took the cigarette and put it between my lips, and Stefano lit it. When I drew upon it, my mouth filled with foul-tasting smoke. “Ugh!” I cried, spitting and coughing.
Stefano laughed. He was handing another of the marijuana cigarettes to the girl with the slipped-down headdress. “If your mother could see you now!”
When his attention was elsewhere, I let the cigarette burn down in my hand, only putting it to my lips when he was looking. David could not see me as I had positioned myself deep in shadow, but all the time I watched him from the corner of my eye. He could not sit there all night, I reasoned. Something had to happen.
At last David stood up. As he walked, swaying a little, towards the house, I leaned towards Stefano. “This is not helping my headache,” I murmured. “In fact, it’s getting worse. I simply must go and get a glass of water. Don’t worry, I can go by myself. I won’t be long.”
I followed David across the courtyard, up the steps and into the now-deserted ballroom. He disappeared for a few minutes to the lavatory. I waited, leaning against one of the stripped tables, my heart like a stone, my head thumping. When he came back he still did not see me, but sat down on the far side of the room, put his head back, blocked each nostril in turn and inhaled deeply. I approached, my soft-soled party shoes silent on the floor.
“David?” I said, as loudly as my shortage of breath would allow. “Is that really you?”
His head snapped forward and he wiped his hand across his nostrils, sniffing noisily. His face looked unfocused, like two celluloid images placed upon each other. He seemed to be frowning and smiling at the same time, aware that his features were not in his contro
l but too bewildered to rearrange them.
“Jesus Christ!” he blurted. “What the devil are you doing here?”
“It is you! Oh, David!”
His face blurred with sudden fury. “What’s this about?”
Now I was afraid, but I sat beside him, close enough for our knees to touch, and hitched up my short skirt even further. “Listen to me, David. You called me an idiot that night, and you were right, I was an idiot. But I’ve learnt a lot since then.”
My heart felt as if it would burst. Comprehension began to come into David’s eyes, and for a moment he looked like the David I knew and had loved so desperately. Not angry or full of loathing, or triumphant, but open-hearted, and captivatingly handsome. “How did you get here?” he asked suspiciously, but more calmly.
I could hardly speak. The world whirled about me; I was back in that hotel room, moments before David’s betrayal, when he had held me in his arms and I had believed he loved me. Love, as Aidan had pointed out, was not subject to rules or logic. As I sat there in that ridiculous dress, I barely needed to act the part Aidan and I had concocted. David’s capacity for entrancing me seemed undimmed. “I… Well, I came on a boat and a train, just like you did,” I said lamely.
“And why did you come?”
Why did I come? I decided to tell the truth. “I came to see you again. I heard you were here, and—”
“How did you hear that?”
He wasn’t supposed to ask all these questions. He was supposed to fall obediently into the trap Aidan and I were setting. His beautiful eyes looked very blue, and very distrustful. “I met this man, Stefano Bassini, and he said his father was a film director and knew you, and you were coming to stay at his villa. I knew I had to follow you, David. I can’t live without you.”
For a moment I thought he was about to do as I had feared – have me thrown out – but then his lips stretched into a thin smile. “Well, here you are, and here I am.”
101 Pieces of Me Page 15
