by Lucy Gordon
At the far end were tall windows that opened onto a veranda. A table stood just outside the room, laden with small snacks. Rinaldo was there. He looked up as she entered.
‘Are you feeling better?’ he asked pleasantly.
‘Yes thank you. Mind you, I never did feel actually bad, just-a little overwhelmed. It was suddenly so-’
She found that she couldn’t finish. No words were adequate.
Rinaldo nodded without speaking, and she knew that he understood everything she was trying to say.
He poured her a glass of light prosecco wine, and she sipped, glad to find it ice-cold.
Now the weather was cooling and they could sit on the veranda, while Teresa served them a sweet, crusted pie with macaroni and meat sauce, which he told her was called Pasticcio alla Fiorentina.
‘Are you wise to treat me like this?’ she teased. ‘You might make me want to stay.’
‘What about the man who called you? Isn’t he yearning for you to return?’
She gave a choke of laughter. There was something about the idea of David yearning that was irresistibly comic.
‘What is it?’ he asked, watching her.
‘David isn’t like that. Yearning isn’t his way.’
‘What is his way?’
‘Well-I don’t know-’
‘But you’re in love with him?’
‘Yes-no-it’s none of your business.’
‘As long as I’m in your power, everything about you is my business.’
‘I see no need to discuss David.’
‘Is he a painful subject?’
‘No, he isn’t. It’s just that our relationship is-difficult to describe-’
‘You mean it isn’t passionate,’ he said calmly.
‘I mean nothing of the kind.’
‘Then it is passionate? His kisses inflame you, your body aches for him when you are apart?’
Alex’s lips twitched. Her sense of humour was coming to her rescue.
‘You forget,’ she said, ‘that I’m a cold-blooded northerner. We don’t “do” passion. It gets in the way of business.’
His eyes gleamed. ‘A remark like that is pure provocation.’
‘You can take it any way you like. David is the man I’m going to marry, and I refuse to discuss our relationship any further.’
He was silent for a long moment after that. Alex knew that the announcement of her impending marriage was like a glove thrown down in defiance, warning him that she had her own agenda. But his face was slightly averted, and she couldn’t discern what effect it had had on him.
At last he raised his head and spoke.
‘Teresa is ready to serve the next course. I hope you’re hungry.’
CHAPTER FIVE
T ERESA served game bird cooked with Marsala wine and juniper berries. It was delicious and Alex soon persuaded herself that arguments could wait.
Sitting on the veranda they could see the light fade from the land and the sun turn deep red before sliding down the sky. Here and there a cloud seemed lit by crimson from behind.
Brutus moved between them, begging. To Alex’s surprise Rinaldo showed no impatience, but fed the old dog patiently, although he advised her, ‘Don’t let him pester you.’
‘I don’t mind being pestered,’ Alex said with perfect truth. ‘He’s beautiful.’
‘He’s a dog,’ Rinaldo said with a touch of curtness. ‘Come on, boy.’
He pushed his chair back abruptly and went into the house, calling Brutus, who followed docilely. Alex wondered about his sudden change of mood, as though she had offended him by petting his dog.
But when he returned a few moments later he seemed to have forgotten the matter.
‘It’s good that we have a chance to talk,’ he said. ‘I understand your situation better now. So, you plan to marry this David, and that’s why you need money.’
‘No, I need it to buy my partnership in the firm,’ she said. ‘David’s an accountant too. It’s one of the top firms in London, so a partnership comes expensive.’
She waited for him to make some sharp remark, but he only nodded, as if considering.
‘How well did you know Enrico?’ he asked.
‘Not well at all, although he was very fond of my mother, and she talked about him a lot. In fact she talked about Italy a lot. She told me so much about Tuscany that when I got here it was like coming to a place I’d always known. She even raised me to speak Italian as well as English.’
Rinaldo frowned as though trying to remember something.
‘What was your mother’s name?’
‘Berta.’
‘Was she short and dainty with reddish hair?’
‘That’s right. You knew her?’
‘I met her once, years ago. Enrico brought her to a party here. I was about seven and she was grown up, but she was great fun. I had this dice game that I insisted on playing with everyone until they were ready to scream.
‘She sat down with me and we played and played and played. She was a mean dice player, and she had a wonderful giggle. She beat me hollow. She went to England a couple of months later and I never saw her again. So you’re Berta’s daughter.’
‘But you must always have known this?’ Alex pointed it out.
‘I suppose I did know it at the back of my mind, but it’s only just come to the forefront. I must have been too angry to think straight.’
‘Does that make me less of an enemy?’
He considered.
‘Can you play dice?’
They both laughed.
‘Tell me some more about her,’ he said.
‘Mamma was very hot-tempered and dramatic. We didn’t understand each other but we loved each other. I think I’m beginning to understand her better now.’
‘Already? You’ve only been here a few days.’
‘I know. But it’s not a matter of working it out in my head. It’s something I’m breathing in with the air. How could anyone be cool, calm and collected in this place?’
Rinaldo nodded. ‘You can’t. And we’re not.’
‘Surely there must be some Italians who are moderate and reasonable?’ Alex said in a teasing voice.
He smiled. ‘There may be one or two, hiding in corners.’
‘Probably ashamed to show their faces.’
‘Undoubtedly. Italy was built on passion, not reason. Moderation didn’t create those great buildings and great paintings that you’ve seen in Florence. Passion created them, and everything else worth having, food, wine, beauty-you will find none of these sitting behind a desk.’
‘Meaning me. But isn’t there also a kind of beauty in good order?’
She had expected him to brush this aside, but to her surprise he nodded.
‘Yes,’ he said. ‘But not if it’s the only thing in your life.’
She would have defended herself against this slur, but somehow the words wouldn’t come. What came into her mind instead was the picture of herself at her desk, at her computer, hurrying from one meeting to another in a grey, air-conditioned building from which fresh air, and anything else that was natural, had been shut out.
And the carefully scheduled time with David. All part of her life’s plan. Good order. But beauty?
The sun was throwing out its last fires of gold and crimson, drifting slowly down the sky. Its glow fell on her, and on Rinaldo. She felt not only its warmth but a feeling of contentment.
It might be wiser to resist that feeling, she thought drowsily. But for the moment she had no will to resist.
Far off in the distance she could see something moving. After a moment she made out Gino’s car, heading towards them, growing larger every moment.
When he was close to the house he waved before sweeping around to the side and vanishing.
She liked Gino, but at this moment she found herself wishing he had stayed away a little longer. He could only be an intrusion in the magical atmosphere that was pervading her.
How strange, she th
ought, that it should be Rinaldo who was here with her, part of the magic. The man who had shown her only his harsh, formidable side was now relaxed and pleasant.
To her relief, Gino didn’t join them at once. Teresa served fruits in syrup followed by black, sweet coffee.
‘Now here is beauty,’ Alex agreed.
‘I’ll tell Teresa you said so. She will appreciate it.’
‘I’ll tell her myself, just before I leave.’
‘Yes,’ he said after a moment.
‘I must be going soon, I suppose. I want an early night, to be ready for Enrico’s funeral tomorrow. His family are making a big “do” of it.’
‘Aren’t you part of his family?’
‘Well yes, but you know what I mean. The people who live out here and knew him. And let me tell you, they don’t consider me as part of the family. They’re as angry with me as you are.’
‘I’m not angry with you, as I hope I’ve made clear today. Belluna has gained much prosperity from the money my father borrowed, and it’s your right to be repaid.’
Alex wrinkled her nose.
‘I don’t like talk of “rights”,’ she said, wondering at herself even as she said it.
In the world she had left behind, the world of desks and good order, rights were the markers by which everything was organised. You were entitled to this, you weren’t entitled to that. And so you always knew where you stood in the universe.
But here the universe was a flood of gold spread over the land. And rights seemed unimportant.
‘I suppose Enrico’s funeral will turn out the same way your father’s did,’ she said. ‘The vultures will converge on me.’
‘I think I have a way to prevent that happening,’ Rinaldo mused.
Before she could ask what he meant Gino appeared, greeting her eagerly, kissing her cheek.
‘I’m so glad,’ he said. ‘When Rinaldo told me, I couldn’t believe it.’
‘Told you what?’
‘Why, that you’d come to stay, of course.’
‘But I haven’t come to stay. I’m about to return to Florence, if someone will give me a lift.’
In the silence Gino looked at Rinaldo, who shrugged with an air that was almost sheepish. At any other time this would have amused her, but now a rising tide of suspicion was overtaking her, making her get to her feet to confront him.
‘But I just finished bringing your bags,’ Gino protested.
She whirled on him.
‘And why would you do that?’
‘Because Rinaldo said-hey, brother, you wouldn’t! Would you?’
‘Would you like to bet money on that?’ Alex seethed.
‘Look,’ Rinaldo said, ‘it’s right for you to stay here awhile, and learn to understand this place.’
‘OK. That makes sense. But why couldn’t you have simply asked me?’
‘You might have said no,’ he declared flatly, as if the question were too obvious to need an answer.
‘I am saying no. I absolutely refuse to stay here now.’
‘But Teresa is in your room right now, unpacking your bags,’ Gino said in dismay.
‘And that’s another thing,’ Alex told him furiously. ‘How did you come to have my luggage? I never packed it.’
‘The hotel did that,’ Gino said. ‘They had everything ready for me.’
‘And who told them to?’
Gino held up his hands, backing away as if to say that this wasn’t his fault.
‘I did,’ Rinaldo said. ‘I called them and said you weren’t returning, and would they please have your things ready.’
‘And did you pay my bill as well, or weren’t they worried about that little matter?’
‘You may recall that you signed a credit card docket when you arrived. It was simply a matter of putting it through. But I doubt if they would have worried anyway. The manager is an old friend of mine.’
‘And would have jumped to obey your orders?’ Alex said angrily.
Rinaldo shrugged. ‘There was no need to give him orders. He knows I can be trusted. And, as I said, he already had your signature.’
‘Suppose I want to dispute something on the bill?’
‘You can do that tomorrow.’
‘I’ll do it now. I refuse to stay here. You must be quite mad.’ She faced Gino, eyes glinting. ‘I thought better of you.’
‘But I didn’t know, truly,’ he pleaded. ‘I thought you’d agreed.’
‘Will you take me back to Florence? Or must I call for a taxi?’
‘Of course I’ll take you back,’ he said at once.
‘Forget that idea,’ Rinaldo growled.
‘I won’t forget it,’ Gino said firmly. ‘Rinaldo, what are you thinking about?’
‘I’m thinking about how all this is going to end,’ he shouted.
‘And making everyone dance around like puppets on the end of your strings,’ Alex snapped. ‘What did you think I’d do when I found out? Tamely submit to your decree and let you take me prisoner? If you did, you were wrong.’
‘Take you prisoner? Don’t be melodramatic.’
‘What else would you call it?’
‘I’d call it taking a lady prisoner,’ Gino observed. ‘Alex, I’ll drive you back to Florence.’
At that defiance Rinaldo flung him a look that Alex never forgot. It contained rage, betrayal, disbelief, and a curious sense of hurt that she couldn’t help seeing, even then.
‘Gino,’ Rinaldo warned, ‘don’t take anyone’s side against me.’
‘Then don’t force a battle about this,’ Gino said in a harsher voice than Alex had heard from him before. ‘It’s gone too far. You’re always the same. You lose your temper and you forget everything else. Too many people jump to do as you say, but Alex doesn’t. That’s what’s got you mad.’
Rinaldo didn’t reply in words, but his look was terrible.
‘Do as you like,’ he said curtly.
Gino swung around to face Alex.
‘I don’t want you to leave,’ he said quietly, ‘but if that’s your wish, I’m ready to take you back now.’
Alex put her hand in his.
‘Do you really want me to stay?’
‘More than anything, but not against your will.’
‘Gino, I’m happy to remain here if I’m asked nicely and not steamrollered.’
He grinned and dropped to his knee, holding her hand between his.
‘Alex, will you honour us by being our guest for as long as you wish?’
‘I accept,’ she said hastily, fearing that Rinaldo would explode if this went on. He was regarding them both with an air of grim exasperation.
‘For pity’s sake,’ he snapped. ‘If you mean to stay, what’s the fuss about?’
‘You really don’t know, do you?’ Alex demanded.
‘No, he doesn’t,’ Gino confirmed.
Rinaldo scowled at him.
‘If you gentlemen have finished,’ Alex said, thoroughly fed up with both of them, ‘I’ll go upstairs to my room.’
She stormed out.
Teresa had just finished hanging her clothes up, and was preparing to take some away, to iron out the creases.
‘I’ll do that,’ Alex said, speaking Italian.
‘Oh, no!’ Teresa was shocked. ‘You are the mistress.’
‘Don’t let Rinaldo hear you say that,’ Alex muttered. ‘Otherwise he may murder me before I murder him.’
She couldn’t have explained the annoyance that possessed her. Rinaldo had behaved badly but, with Gino’s help, she’d gained the upper hand. The matter should be over.
But it wasn’t over while she remembered how he’d set out to take her off guard, and how thoroughly he’d succeeded.
He’d smiled and she’d responded, and in no time at all she’d succumbed to the spell he was weaving. She hadn’t even put up a good fight. The moment by the stream, the memories of her mother, even the sunset. He’d known just the right buttons to push, and she’d fallen for it hook,
line and sinker.
That must have given him a laugh.
Pushing him firmly out of her head, she took a good look around the room and liked what she saw. It was out of another age, with dark oak furniture and a polished wooden floor. It had none of the modern conveniences of her bedroom at home, expensively designed and tailored to her exact specifications. But she loved it.
There was still some light outside, although it was fading fast. Driven by a sudden impulse, she slipped out of the door, down the stairs and outside.
After the heat of the day the air was blessedly cool and she stood drinking it in.
‘Are you still talking to me?’
She turned, laughing, at the sound of Gino’s voice.
‘You’re not the one I’m mad at,’ she told him. ‘Quite the reverse.’
‘That sounds hopeful.’
‘I mean that you helped me out. I really like the idea of staying here, but after the way your brother behaved, well-if you hadn’t done your going-down-on-one-knee act, I’d have had to leave, simply to make my point.’
‘It wasn’t an act,’ he said at once. ‘In my heart I’m always down on one knee to you.’
‘Stop your nonsense,’ she told him amiably, ‘or I’ll take you seriously, and then where would you be?’
‘In heaven! All right, I take it back if you don’t like it. Let me show you the stables. There’s a horse there that would just suit you.’
As they started to walk there was the sound of pattering from behind them, and the next moment Brutus wandered out, making for Alex.
‘Hey,’ she said, fondling his ears and trying to dodge his madly licking tongue. ‘All right, don’t eat me. All right, all right!’
She nuzzled him, burying her face pleasurably against his soft fur.
‘He was Maria’s,’ Gino said. ‘She brought him with her to the wedding, as a puppy. He’s very old now, but Rinaldo spends a fortune on keeping him alive and fit. He’s got arthritis, but as long as he has expensive injections every month, it’s kept at bay. I’ll swear he spends more on Brutus than he does on himself.’
Alex remembered how Rinaldo had driven the dog inside when she’d tried to make a fuss of him. She’d put it down to irritation, but now she saw the action in a new light; possessiveness about the only living creature that still reminded him of his wife.
