by Lucy Gordon
She was talking to a customer, almost seeming to flirt with him, shaking her head so that the curls danced about her face. It was a young face, much younger than Gino had realised, and charming, especially when she smiled.
It had a lot in common with the girl in the pictures, except that her blazing belief in life had gone for ever. This woman was more cautious, hurt and vulnerable, but also more interesting than before.
The customer was elderly, and clearly delighted by the attention. He paid for his drink and would have lingered if the barman hadn’t returned, looking at his watch.
‘Last orders, ladies and gentlemen,’ he announced.
The company was thin tonight, and she was soon finished. Gino waved to catch her attention, and they slipped out into the street together.
‘So this is where you sneak away in the evenings,’ he said, grinning. ‘No wonder you don’t want to be at home when you can be surrounded by suitors here.’
‘Oh, stop that. Sam’s a dear old boy and nobody’s flirted with him for years. It’s part of the job, and mostly innocent.’
‘Mostly?’ he asked, glancing sideways.
‘Nothing I can’t handle. I’ve got a mean left hook. Want me to demonstrate?’
‘I’ll take your word for it,’ he said hastily. ‘Let’s go home.’
It was pleasant walking home under the stars, and Gino was reluctant to spoil their peace, but he had no choice.
‘There’s something you need to know,’ he said heavily. ‘Nikki told me tonight that her father is dead.’
Laura stopped and faced him, horrified.
‘She said what?’
‘She was showing me some family pictures, and when he disappeared from them she said, “My daddy’s dead”.’
‘Oh, no,’ she breathed. ‘He didn’t die. He walked out.’
‘Do you ever hear from him?’
‘Not since the divorce. He doesn’t stay in touch.’
‘Christmas? Birthdays?’
‘Not a word, not a card. I suppose it’s easier for her to think of him as dead than neglectful.’
‘Any chance she actually believes it?’
‘No, if he was dead, I’d have told her. She must know that.’
‘So it’s her way of comforting herself.’ Gino sighed. ‘I’m not supposed to have told you this. She said you didn’t know that she knew, and she didn’t want to worry you.’
‘Oh, God, she’s so sweet and generous.’
‘Yes, she is, but I’ve betrayed her confidence. I had to. I couldn’t have kept a thing like that to myself-’
‘Of course you did the right thing. But I’ve been so stupid. Why didn’t I see it coming? How could I have left her exposed to this?’
‘Hey, hey, don’t blame yourself,’ he said urgently. ‘You didn’t expose her to this. He did.’
‘But I should have thought. Oh, heavens!’
Her voice was husky with tears and she buried her face in her hands. Gino put his arms about her, holding her tightly while she wept.
‘It isn’t your fault,’ he said again. ‘You’re her mother, but you can only do so much. There are things you can’t make right for her, however hard you try. You can see them coming, but you can’t get out of the way.’
‘But I could help her through them. I’ve got to get home quickly, and talk to her.’
‘No, don’t.’ In his agitation he took her arms and drew her around to face him. ‘Stop and think. What are you going to tell her, that I betrayed her confidence?’
‘Confidence? She’s an eight-year-old child-’
‘Even a child likes to be treated with respect. Right now, she feels she can talk to me.’
‘But why not me?’
‘Because you’re her mother. I’m not involved so it’s easier for her to talk to me. As long as she trusts me, maybe I can be of some use to her, and to you. Laura please, don’t do anything to make her stop trusting me.’
He felt some of the tension go out of her, and she sighed, nodding.
‘You’re right,’ she said in despair. ‘I should have thought of that.’
‘You’ve got to stop blaming yourself for everything. You keep saying you should have done this and you should have done that, but you can’t do it all. No one can. Let someone else share the load.’
She gave a wry laugh.
‘There’s never been anyone to share it with.’
‘You’ve got me now,’ he reminded her gently.
She gave a shaky laugh. ‘Yes, I have, haven’t I?’ She put her arms about him and kissed him on the cheek. ‘How did I ever manage before you arrived? The best kid brother I never had.’
‘What do you mean, kid?’
‘I’m three years older than you. That makes you my kid brother. And, like most kid brothers, you can sometimes be a pain in the butt, and at other times be pretty marvellous.’
‘Yes, I finished the shelves,’ he said at once.
‘I didn’t mean-oh, you!’
He hugged her. ‘Come on, let’s go home. Your baby brother is starving.’
He made spaghetti and tomato sauce, which they ate together at the kitchen table.
Laura got out the photo album and he went through it again.
‘You were a real looker, weren’t you?’ he observed.
‘Yes, I was-the dim and distant past.’
‘That’s not what I-’
‘Oh, shut up!’ She thumped him amiably and he just managed not to drop tomato sauce on the album.
‘You can tell so much from old photos,’ he mused. ‘People’s past selves, sometimes even they’ve forgotten what they were like-and there they are.’
‘What about you? Don’t you have any record of your past self?’
She felt him tense.
‘Not here with me.’
‘Not one little picture of the younger Gino?’
After a moment he said quietly, ‘All right.’
He went up to his room and returned a moment later with a picture that he put into her hand.
It showed Gino, with flowers in his disarranged hair, looking mildly tipsy, his arm about the loveliest young woman Laura had ever seen. She was blonde and elegant, with the kind of supreme assurance that roused Laura’s envy. She and Gino were laughing at each other against a background of coloured lights and revelry.
Laura studied her, wondering if this was the answer to Gino’s habit of seeming to live life at arm’s length. He was always good-natured and kind, but she knew now that he kept the world at a distance, never quite involving himself in the moment.
‘I’ve never seen you look like that,’ she said, her eyes on the brilliant young face. ‘Not just happy, but throwing yourself into everything and hang the consequences. You learned caution after this.’
He nodded.
‘Was it very long ago?’ she asked.
‘Last year. A thousand years. Another universe.’
She sighed. ‘I know what you mean. You never know what’s waiting for you just around the corner, do you?’
‘I guess not.’
‘Thank you for showing me.’ She handed him back the picture and he took it without a word.
After that they went on talking about nothing much until it was time to go to bed. It was cosy, unexciting, the kind of evening Gino would once have despised. But, bit by bit, he found he was losing the appetite for anything livelier. He could not have said why.
The next evening Laura had another stint in The Running Sheep.
The first hour was busy and she was run off her feet, but at last the crowd thinned out and she was able to turn her attention to a man who had been waiting patiently at the far end of the bar.
‘I’m so sorry,’ she said.
‘Don’t worry, I can see how it is.’ He gave her a pleasant grin.
He was about forty, with a reassuring solidity, but he was also handsome in a slightly cinematic way. His hair was thick and fair, his eyes deep blue, his features regular, only just be
ginning to blur.
She served him a whisky and he took it with the same charming grin, raising the glass in salute.
‘Have one with me,’ he said.
‘Thanks, I’ll have an orange juice.’
After that, if she had a free moment she returned to him. His name was Steve Deyton, and he was making frequent visits to the neighbourhood, with a view to setting up a factory making stationery products.
‘I don’t know anyone in this area,’ he said, ‘and there’s very little to do in the evenings. I’ve been here several times, hoping you’d notice me, but you never did.’
She laughed. It was a familiar gambit, and one to which she had a standard repertoire of answers. In fact she had noticed him, but she wasn’t prepared to say so. Not yet. She gave him a light-hearted reply, and went away to serve someone else.
At the end of the evening he asked if he could give her a lift home.
‘Thank you, that would be-’ Laura stopped, her attention caught by something she saw in the corner. ‘No, I don’t think so. Thank you anyway.’
He followed her gaze. ‘I see. A boyfriend?’
‘No,’ she laughed. ‘My brother. Goodnight.’
Laura put on her coat and headed for the corner.
‘Hey,’ she said, shaking Gino’s shoulder. ‘Wake up.’
‘Hm? Oh, hello.’
‘It’s time to go.’
He looked at the half full glass of beer.
‘It’s flat,’ he mourned. ‘How long since I dozed off?’
‘I don’t know. I didn’t know you were here.’
‘No, your boss served me. All right, I’m coming.’
He hauled himself sleepily out of his seat and followed her out into the street, dropping a casual hand on her shoulder.
‘You may have to support me home,’ he said.
‘How many did you have before you fell asleep?’
‘No idea. That’s the idea of falling asleep. It wipes the slate clean.’
‘Does it?’ she asked severely.
‘Oh, hush, you sound like a grandmother.’
‘You make me feel like a grandmother,’ she said. ‘Or an aunt. You need looking after.’
‘Wash your hands of me,’ he said gloomily. ‘I’m a hopeless case.’
She said no more until they were in the kitchen.
‘Sit,’ she said, pointing to a chair.
‘Like I’m a dog,’ he protested.
‘Yes. Now be a good boy and sit.’
He did so, and remained there obediently while she put on the kettle, and went upstairs to check on Nikki. When she returned the kettle was boiling and she made instant coffee, which she set before him.
That brought him to life.
‘English coffee? Instant? Good grief woman, are you trying to kill me?’
‘No, I’m trying to sober you up.’
He gave her a look and, rising, started to make real coffee in the percolator, both of which he had bought and presented to the kitchen. Laura smiled quietly to herself. At least she’d got him going.
The coffee he set before her was perfect, strong, sweet-smelling, Italian.
‘Mm,’ she said appreciatively.
‘You must let me teach you to make coffee,’ he growled.
‘Nah, it’s wasted on the English.’
‘True.’
They sat in companionable silence for a while.
‘So, who is she?’ Laura risked asking at last.
‘Who’s who?’
‘The woman in the photo last night. That is what this is all about, isn’t it?’
For a moment she thought he would slide away from the question, but at last he said, ‘Her name is Alex. She came to Tuscany last year. She’d inherited a claim on our farm.’
‘Our?’
‘My brother, Rinaldo, and me.’ Gino’s voice became wry and slightly cynical. ‘We couldn’t afford to pay her, so it was obvious one of us would have to marry her. We tossed a coin.’
‘You what?’
‘We tossed a coin. Don’t say it-’ he held up a hand as if to ward her off. ‘Disgraceful, despicable, chauvinist, anything you like. And I’ll tell you something that’ll annoy you even more. Rinaldo won, and immediately said he wasn’t interested and she was all mine.’ He grinned. ‘If you could see your face!’
‘The pair of you deserve to have your heads banged together. I hope she taught you both a lesson.’
He was silent a moment before saying quietly, ‘Let’s just say that she made her own choice.’
‘And it wasn’t you?’ she said gently.
He shrugged.
Her brief indignation died. Whatever boyish games he’d played at the start, the result had devastated him, so that now he was still wandering in a wilderness.
‘You seemed to be having fun in that picture,’ she said.
‘That was the Feast of St Romauld, last year, in Florence. The three of us went together. I don’t even remember when the picture was taken, but it was a good evening.’
Suddenly he said, ‘It’s dangerous to laugh.’
‘Why?’ she asked.
‘People think that’s all you can do. “Oh, it’s only Gino. He’ll laugh it off. All life is a joke to him.” Only then-suddenly it isn’t funny-but they don’t realise. And you can start hating people.’
‘I can’t imagine you hating anyone,’ Laura said.
‘It’s frighteningly easy when you get started. You have to keep reminding yourself that these are people you mustn’t hate, because if you do, you’ve got no one left to love. But then-’
His voice trailed off into silence. He was looking at something she couldn’t see. Laura wondered if he still knew that she was there.
‘Gino,’ she said softly, laying a hand on his arm.
He made a sudden sound of impatience. ‘Listen to me. I’m getting maudlin.’
‘I’m a good listener,’ she said.
‘Thanks but there’s nothing to talk about. Love comes and goes every day.’
‘Not real love. If it’s very real and true-as I think it was with you-it changes the course of your life. It changes you. Gino, I’m not trying to pry, truly, but you’re always there if I need a shoulder to cry on. Can’t I do the same for you?’
He smiled. ‘Bless you, but who’s crying? I got over Alex months ago.’
And if you believed that, Laura thought, you’d believe anything. But it was clear that he’d confided more than he’d meant to, and was now backtracking in self-protection.
He squeezed her hand briefly and went upstairs to bed.
CHAPTER FOUR
T HE man at the bar was the same one who’d claimed Laura’s attention the night before. Gino recalled seeing him just before he himself had nodded off.
He seemed to be in his early forties, tall, heavily built, with a good head of hair, expensively dressed. When he laughed he showed white, regular teeth. Surveying him critically, Gino supposed that many women would have called him handsome. Certainly Laura seemed to enjoy his company. She was laughing freely and with no sign of tension.
For a moment she was the girl of the snapshots, before grief and worry wore her down. Some part of that girl was still there, he thought, just as her face was still beautiful with that light glowing from within.
The man seized her hand and kissed the back of it. She remonstrated, but not very severely. It took a wave from another customer to recall her to her duties, looking flushed and a little embarrassed.
Gino slipped quietly out of the pub.
At home he lay on his bed, fully dressed, and went downstairs when he heard Laura come in. She was in the kitchen, humming as she made the tea. She pointed to a cup and he nodded.
‘You sound happy,’ he said.
‘No, not especially,’ she said with a touch of self-consciousness. ‘Well, maybe a bit.’
‘A good evening in the pub?’
‘Yes, business was brisk.’
‘I expect you meet a lot
of smart-asses, who think a barmaid is fair game,’ he said casually.
‘You know I do. You’ve seen them.’
‘I don’t mean the old boys, but the younger ones might be more of a handful.’
‘I know how to deal with them. Nobody fools with me.’
‘Nobody?’
‘Not unless I let them.’
‘Oh,’ he said. ‘Oh.’
‘Is something the matter?’
‘Nothing,’ he said hastily.
‘You sounded funny.’
‘I’m just a bit tired. I’ll drink this and go to bed.’
He was a little put out by her refusal to confide in him. They were supposed to be friends, weren’t they?
But he told himself that it was her business if she didn’t want to talk about it. And with that he had to be satisfied.
Every morning, in the packing department, a variety of attractive young women would compete to bring Gino his tea.
‘He’s got all the girls sighing for him,’ Claudia said at the boarding house one night. ‘You should see Maisie and Jill, practically scratching each other’s eyes out for one of his smiles.’
‘That’s not Maisie and Jill,’ Gino said, playing up to her. ‘It’s Lily and Rose, or do I mean Patsy and Cindy, or-’
‘All right, big-head,’ Claudia quenched him.
‘I take it you’re enjoying your job,’ Laura teased.
‘It has its moments,’ he admitted.
‘Are they all your girlfriends?’ Nikki demanded with innocent fascination.
‘All of them,’ Gino confirmed solemnly.
‘Have you got lots and lots of girlfriends?’
‘Lots and lots and lots,’ he said.
‘Why you and not the others?’ she wanted to know.
‘Because I’m Italian, and Italy is the land of Casanova.’
‘Who was Casanova?’
Gino opened his mouth and closed it again.
‘Serve you right,’ Laura said, laughing. ‘When will you learn to be careful what you say to Nikki?’
‘Why has he got to be careful, Mummy?’
‘Eat your tea,’ she said hastily.
Mercifully Nikki allowed the subject to drop, and it wasn’t raised again until she’d gone to bed, and Sadie declared with relish, ‘They’re taking bets all over the factory. The hot money’s on Tess.’
