“I know,” Canna replied as she swung her legs off the bed. “In some ways it makes sense. Fibonacci always hated Giuseppe…”
“Who’s Fibonacci?’
“One of Caraceni’s board directors. He’s the one who put the hit out on me.”
Claudio put his hands on Canna’s shoulders. “Blinky. There is no hitman.”
“What?”
“There is no one coming after you.”
“But Giorgio said… wait, did Giorgio make up the whole thing to frighten me?”
“You didn’t see Giorgio last night.”
Canna nodded. “I did. He came to me. He knocked down the door in my apartment.”
“No, he didn’t.”
“Ask Giancarlo, he was there. He found Giorgio and me in the dark and he…”
“Giancarlo went to see you in the apartment. He went because I rang him and asked him to go and see you. Giancarlo found you, in your room, rocking yourself back and forward. You had rung me, in a panic and rambled about hurting yourself, so I called Giancarlo to check on you because I couldn’t. Giancarlo drove you up here.”
“What did I say to you on the phone?”
“You said you had an alcohol problem. You experienced a breakdown. It was much bigger than the episode you suffered in Malta.”
“What? You’re crazy.”
“No, not me.” Claudio sighed and wrapped his arms around her. “My darling, it’s going to be okay. You can get help.”
“For what?”
A short sharp knock interrupted, and Dr. Riberi appeared in the doorway. “Canna,” he said. “You’re awake.”
Canna pursed her lips and just shrugged.
“Hello, doctor,” Claudio said. “She’s just woken up, and I’m explaining how she got here.”
“You don’t recall checking in last night?” Dr. Riberi asked.
Canna shrugged in reply.
“Catherine,” Claudio said. “Please speak.”
“No, it’s okay.” Dr. Riberi sat down on a chair across the room. “Canna has a habit of shutting down when I enter a room.”
“Talk about me like I’m not here,” Canna muttered.
“Can I ask a question, Canna? A simple question. Is Claudio Ramos the mystery man? The man you were in love with last time you came to stay? The man you wanted to love but didn’t want to hurt?”
Canna watched Claudio; his eyes spoke of how pleased he was to be that man. Canna looked down at her hands and nodded.
“Good. I see you have made progress. You and I have spoken many times since you left here, but you never said you were seeing someone.”
“I’m not sure what to say,” Claudio started.
“No need, Claudio. Canna spoke a lot of a man she loved while she was in rehab. We talked at length about accepting love, but her husband…”
“He’s dead,” Canna muttered.
“I have worried about you since his death. I also worried about all the projects and trips you have taken lately. Even the most settled person would struggle with your timetable. I didn’t realise that there was a man involved as well.”
“What do you mean, the most settled person?” Claudio asked.
“Someone with a mental illness, like Canna, would have a harder time coping with a hectic schedule.”
“There is nothing wrong with me!” Canna growled.
“For fucks sake!” Claudio yelled. “You had a full psychotic break last night! You have been ranting and hallucinating and you’ve become paranoid!”
“I didn’t make up anything!” Canna implored. “I swear! Ask Giancarlo about what happened.”
“When you arrived with Giancarlo, you were completely non-responsive,” Dr. Riberi said.
“I was drunk, and I had taken a few Valium.”
“We took a blood test this morning, and you slept through that, too.”
“You took drugs?” Claudio asked. His eyes had filled with tears.
“It was a few pills for a headache and stressful situation,” she sighed. “Giorgio offered them to help me get through a meeting.”
“That’s the definition of having a drug habit. If you need them to cope with everyday life, then you have a problem,” Dr. Riberi said calmly.
“It’s not. It was one time, not a habit.”
“The blood test didn’t show Valium, it showed Ecstasy.”
“That’s bullshit!” Canna shrieked. “I don’t do Ecstasy!”
“Canna, how could you do this?” Claudio sighed.
“Ecstasy helps to explain an irrational episode,” Dr. Riberi said.
“This happened in Malta, a few weeks ago,” Claudio cut in as he wiped his eyes. “Canna got drunk, and she completely freaked out at me over nothing.”
“You were trying to control me!” Canna spat back. “That’s not nothing. I may be a bitch, but I’m a free bitch. No one tells me what to do!”
“You called me last night and cried down the phone that you have a drinking problem. You said those exact words.”
“Is this true, Canna?” Dr. Riberi asked.
“I don’t remember making a call.” Canna paused. Not remembering events was dangerous, if not a regular event over the last five years or so. “I was drunk, I admit that. It was just a binge after a difficult day. It’s not like I have alcohol for breakfast anymore.”
“Binge drinking is alcoholism. Being an alcoholic is not just about drinking all the time. It’s also someone who relies on drinks in stressful times, or people who consume large quantities to forget things. Your blood alcohol reading on the blood test was off the charts, Canna. Do you want to die young?”
“Okay, I admit it. I have gotten myself into a difficult situation, and I made a mistake last night.”
“You’ve had a hard road since you got out of rehab. I thought you would be back.”
“Thanks, Doc,” Canna sighed. “No one has any faith in me.”
“We want to have faith,” Claudio said.
“Look at this man, Canna,” Dr. Riberi said. “Look at how much you have hurt him.”
“I hurt everyone.” Canna looked Claudio right in the eye. “You knew what you were in for when you fell in love with me.”
“I want you to get better, Canna. I love you.”
“Love is nothing but trouble.”
“I’m not going to hurt you! I would never hit you, or do any of the vile things that Giuseppe did to you.”
“This isn’t about my ex-husband,” Canna spat out. “I have a lot to deal with this week. I want to go home.”
“You need to stay here, for a week,” Dr. Riberi. “You need to detox from alcohol, and we can talk about your future.”
“You can’t hold me here.”
“No, you need to agree to be here.”
“I want you to stay here,” Claudio said. “Just for a week. You need to convalesce.”
“I have a life!”
“A life that is destroying you! You need to get yourself under control.”
Canna scoffed. “You came to me in Milan, with your own life in a mess, and you needed me to figure it all out. You call me all the time, wanting to know where I am, who I’m with, what I’m doing. You’re adding to my pressure.”
“I love you, Catherine. Normal, healthy people care about each other. It’s my duty to care, my hobby to worry, and my choice to love you.”
“Canna, there is no harm in taking a break,” Dr. Riberi said.
“I was thinking of going to Australia for Christmas, to go sailing. I’ll go now, and relax ahead of the race.”
“But what about…”
“What? You want me to stay here and watch you babysit your wife’s child?” Canna asked.
“You’re ambivalent to harm you cause,” Claudio said. “I think maybe I should just leave you here.”
“Yeah, now that I have given you money for a world tour. Now that I have bought a house for you to live in so you can raise the baby. The baby, which you’re having with someone else and expect me to play ste
pmother to, when it suits.”
Claudio shook his head. “I don’t know if I can deal with this.”
“So, all those times you said you loved me, you lied? Was it only fun to help me when I was in a relationship with someone else?”
“What problems do you think you have, Canna?” Dr. Riberi interrupted the tearful couple.
“Nothing is going to make me better. Claudio has a habit of running off to his normal life whenever he feels like it.”
“That is not true!” Claudio retorted. “I battled with you for months with those fucking pills.”
“Don’t pretend that the situation was healthy,” Canna fired back.
Claudio threw his hands in the air. “I’m leaving you here, Catherine. I’m going right now.”
“I think it’s for the best,” Dr. Riberi said. “Canna needs to time to rescue herself.”
“I cut my arm,” Canna said. “I slit it open, with a letter opener, to gain control over my life. I hate that I did it. I’m sorry. Please don’t leave me here!”
Claudio shook his head. “I’m sorry, I have to leave, for your own sake. You need to detox and relax.”
“I can do that anywhere! I’ll take a week off work and go to London and make your peppermint tea, clean the house, or whatever you want me to do.”
“I don’t know what I want,” Claudio replied. “Last night you called me with incoherent ranting. I thought you would kill yourself. You’re so unpredictable. You scare me, Blinky.”
Canna started tapping her foot on the carpeted floor. Her leg shook so wildly that the whole bed wobbled. “What do you want? Don’t leave me here.”
“Canna, you can’t bargain with Claudio. It’s not fair,” Dr. Riberi warned.
“I want you in my life,” Claudio said. “I want you to stop chasing insane amounts of money in Milan. I want you to be sober and attend AA meetings. You need to work on avoiding triggers.”
“Is this what I get? I step out of the darkness of my addiction and into the daylight, and it’s nothing but misery. I was better off on morphine! At least I was happy!”
“No, you weren’t happy. You suffered every day, with a fake smile on your face.” Claudio stood up and folded his arms. “I need to go back to London. I have a career to maintain, and I missed a meeting with the lawyers about the custody of the baby. You’ve done me enough harm for one day.”
Canna grabbed Claudio’s arms, but he pulled away. “No, Canna. This is for your own good.”
Canna burst into tears as Claudio left the room, and Dr. Riberi followed him out. There was no reason to be sober now.
CHAPTER 18
MILAN
The world had been on hold for a full week. Canna was no stranger to rehab; she shut up and did what the doctor said. At least Beneserre didn’t encourage group therapy, due to the privacy of their patients. It was nice; a week of relaxation. But, on the other hand, it gave Canna a full week to be angry at Claudio. He was no different to anyone else; when things got hard, he disappeared. Claudio rang Dr. Riberi every day, but Canna never gave permission for Claudio to know how she felt. Screw him. Claudio’s support was the only thing she could rely on, and now he had left her disappointed. Claudio couldn’t see how much damage he had done.
Canna slipped her sunglasses on and smiled while she stood outside the front door to the clinic. The sunshine shone out over the forest that surrounded the secluded place. The only other person there was Giancarlo, with the Mercedes to collect her.
“You have no idea how happy I am to see you,” she said as her bodyguard gave her a hug.
“You have no idea how nervous I am to see you.”
“Why?”
“Get in the car.”
Canna jumped in the back of the Mercedes and Giancarlo got in the driver’s seat. He lit each of them a cigar before they left the peace of Beneserre.
“You won’t believe the shit I put up with this week,” Canna said between puffs. “You have to tell me what happened the night you took me to the clinic.”
“I’m surprised you haven’t fired me for bringing you up to Aosta. I had to find a place to hide you away. Privacy is the biggest priority here.”
Canna slid forward and sat unbuckled between the two front seats. “What the hell happened that night in Milan?”
“I don’t know, Canna. But I know Giorgio gave you something other than Valium.”
“My blood test at the clinic said Ecstasy. Those pills combined with that cognac were fucking harsh. What happened? How did you find me? God, please say it was when you pressed your gun to Giorgio’s head.”
“Yeah, why wouldn’t it be?”
“My God!” Canna cried. “I told the story to Claudio, and he told me that I was a liar! The doctor thought I was hallucinating! I don’t care how out of reality I was, I remember!”
“I lied to Claudio,” Giancarlo explained. “That’s why he doesn’t believe you. I thought it safer for him if he didn’t know the whole story.”
“You have no idea how much trouble that has caused.”
“Please, how angry can you be with Claudio?”
“Very angry! The bastard ran off and left me to rot in rehab. Family meetings? Not for Canna Medici. No one cares.”
“Claudio rang me every day in case I had news about you. I had nothing to tell him. He has been doing interviews for his upcoming performance in London. I told Claudio that you wanted him to carry on with Virtuosi for his sake.”
“That’s a selfless thing to say. I’m not that selfless.”
“You can be.”
“Not this time. This time I needed someone to pick up the torch and help me. But no one came. So, what do you know? Is someone trying to kill me? Fibonacci? Giorgio?”
Giancarlo shrugged. “I have put the word out that I’m looking for whoever wants to scare you. I have watched your house all week, and Francesca has watched the office, and nothing. Giorgio could have made up the whole thing.”
“Where is the bastard himself?”
“Giorgio took his wife and daughter to Geneva for a long weekend. Haven’t seen him since.”
“So what am I meant to do?”
“That’s up to you, Canna.”
“I want to go back to the Milan apartment, pack my things and be ready to flee.”
“You don’t want to go to London to see Claudio?”
“Why would I want to do that?” Canna exhaled, and smoke accompanied the words that sounded upset over the whole situation.
“Leaving you in Aosta was the only way Claudio thought he could help you. I think it’s good; as long as he is in London, he is safer than being in Italy.”
Canna picked at the black leather seat for a moment. “Is there any need for me to be worried about my safety?”
“No, you pay me obscene amounts of money to worry.”
“I would hate it if your job ever put you or your girls in danger.”
“Never, Canna. My girls have never been in danger. Me, I can take care of myself.”
“Seriously, has anyone tried to hurt me before?”
“Many times.”
“Like when?”
“Like… like that time you went to the Cannes film festival in ‘07. A few days before that, one of the guys that Giuseppe had screwed over with a deal hired someone to cut you, to send a message.”
“What happened?”
“I caught him before he got anywhere near you.”
“I had no idea.”
“You’re not supposed to have any idea. Trouble is, I knew that you were in danger every day, from your husband. I couldn’t control that.”
“You weren’t paid to stop Giuseppe. You were paid to ignore it.”
“And I did. I’m sorry. After that knife incident, when Marino found you, bleeding in the kitchen...”
Canna shrugged. “Giuseppe hurt me, and I let him. I could have left him, but I chose to stick with him for his money and security.”
“Giuseppe said that if you ever le
ft him, I would have to kill you. It was a specific instruction.”
“I believe you.”
“I wouldn’t hurt you, Canna. When you ran off and I tracked you to London, I couldn’t bring myself to hurt you. I just kept lying to Giuseppe, saying I couldn’t get to you.”
Canna placed her hand on Giancarlo’s shoulder. “Thanks, man. Do you know what we should do? We should go to Fibonacci’s place right now. He won’t be expecting that. You and me, in his home. Do you have a gun on you?”
“Of course.”
“We should confront that son-of-a-bitch. I’ll be damned if I sit around wondering if I’m being watched. I won’t live like that again.”
~~~
Canna stood arms folded, with Giancarlo at her side, outside the gates of the home of Ernesto Fibonacci. The guard knew she meant business and wouldn’t leave. The moment the hapless man phoned the house to announce her arrival, the gates buzzed open. Giancarlo barely kept up with Canna’s pace to the front door of the lavish palace. The maid had opened the double doors before they climbed the white granite stairs.
“Catherine,” Fibonacci said as Canna stepped inside the mansion. He stood at the bottom of the towering white staircase in the lobby, his hands together in front of him. “What do I owe the pleasure?”
“We need to talk.”
Ernesto gestured for Canna to enter a vast room on the right, a silent library, warm and inviting, unlike the owner of the house. Canna sat down on a leather chair and watched Giancarlo stand guard in the lobby. He did his best impression of keeping an eye on the situation while pretending not to listen.
Canna watched Fibonacci run his hand over his combed grey hair. He did that when he got upset or nervous. Canna smiled; Fibonacci was uncomfortable in her presence. “Is everything all right?” she asked.
“Why are you here, Catherine?”
“Did you put a hit out on me?” The moment she said it, she heard Giancarlo clear his throat; her direct approach even surprised him.
“No,” Fibonacci scoffed. “Why would you ask that?”
“That’s the word on the street.”
“Where have you been this last week?”
“That’s none of your business.”
“If I had you followed, or potentially harmed, I would know where you’ve been.”
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