He stared at her and she faced him down.
He left. Fast.
‘Wow,’ Leo said, as Victoir disappeared and the heavy door was tugged closed. ‘Well done. Hey, you really are a Castlavaran.’
‘Don’t. You’ll get me started again.’
‘I’m sorry.’ He sighed. ‘But you’re right. You have far too much on your plate for me to be loading you with more.’
‘Is that all you’re sorry for?’
‘You must know it’s not,’ he said gently. ‘Anna, I’ve been sorry for a very long time.’
And that pretty much silenced her.
The silence stretched on. She was looking at him, seeing strain. She was waiting, but she didn’t know what she was waiting for. What she was hoping?
‘I’m sorry for not explaining,’ he said at last.
‘Explaining your hospital scheme? There’s still time.’
‘No,’ he said softly. ‘For not explaining ten years ago. For being nineteen and being hopelessly in love and then being dumbstruck by learning who your mother was. For not being able to explain it to you then. For being young and stupid and even cruel. For not being able to control my own hurt to ease yours. I still believe that I had no choice, but most of all, Anna, I’m deeply, deeply sorry that I had to walk away.’
* * *
The words left her winded.
After all these years...to have him finally say it.
She felt like a long-faded scar had suddenly split, to reveal there was still infection deep within.
Her psychologist had given her strategies for not looking back. Where was her psychologist now, when she was most needed? Strategies... She couldn’t think of a single one.
‘You didn’t want...’ she started, but he shook his head.
‘Anna, you have no idea how much I wanted.’
‘How can I know that? One minute we were planning marriage and then nothing.’
‘I should have asked before. About your mother.’
‘My mother was nothing to do with our relationship. She had very little to do with me. I told you she was a wild child. I told you there was man after man after man. What else was there to say?’
‘That she was a Castlavaran?’
‘As far as I was concerned, she was Katrina Raymond. She’d married my father, even if the marriage ended before I was born. I told you she’d been unhappy at home and her mother had died. I told you everything I knew.’
The only time she’d learned more had been the night she’d introduced Katrina to Leo.
She hadn’t seen her mother for almost a year. Katrina had been in the States, but had breezed back to London and decided to drop in on her daughter.
‘My head-in-her-books daughter has a man? Well, well, let’s meet him.’
She’d been reluctant. To say she and her mother were dysfunctional would have been an understatement.
Anna had always been cared for—sort of. Katrina had access to money. ‘It’s family money, sweetheart—money’s the only thing they’re good for.’ There’d been funds for an apartment with nannies, while Katrina had been off doing what she wanted. There’d been money to support Anna to study. There’d been no mother love.
Neither had there been any sense of history. Katrina wouldn’t talk of home. ‘There’s some sort of Trust set up so my father has to support me,’ she’d told her. ‘That’s all you need to know. He’s an appalling man, Anna. Don’t ask.’
So she hadn’t asked, and the only part of Tovahna she knew was the language, taught to her in the times Katrina returned to the apartment to get over her latest love affair or to escape from whatever disaster she was in.
Anna had tried to warn him. ‘She’s unstable, Leo. She’ll talk too fast. She’ll come across as sophisticated and brittle but underneath...’
Underneath there were scars that Anna could only guess at. And then that night at dinner, the scars were exposed for all to see.
Maybe it was Leo’s gentleness. His kindness. His perception? Even at nineteen he knew how to empathise, and Katrina was captivated.
He spoke to Katrina in Tovahnan and maybe that had been the undermining of Katrina’s defences.
‘So tell me about your father?’ he asked Katrina at last, when the pizza had been replaced by coffee. ‘My father died early, but my mother still lives on Strada Del Porto on the island’s east side. Is that anywhere near where your father lives?’
What followed was a loaded silence, and Anna looked at her mother in astonishment and thought, Is she about to crack? She’d hardly talked of her father, even to her. But then...
‘As far as I know, my father still lives in that great gothic castle he loves so much,’ she said, in a voice that was almost a whisper. ‘It’s the only thing he loves. He sits there and pretends to be a king and he’s cared for nothing and for no one. Not my mother, and not me. And my brother’s just like him. They can rot in their castle for all I care.’
And Leo stared at her in blank astonishment. ‘You’re a Castlavaran...’
‘Don’t say that name.’
‘But he’s your—’
‘Enough.’ Katrina pushed back her chair and walked out of the restaurant.
And that was that. One ring returned. One love affair over.
‘I was so immature,’ Leo said now, and it was so much what she thought that she blinked.
‘Well. Good of you to admit it.’
‘I should have explained.’
‘So should my mother. I’m putting her in the same category. Let’s keep Anna in ignorance and let her face the consequences without warning, without respect, without any acceptance of the fact that I had a right to know.’
‘Anna...’
‘My grandfather and my uncle and then my cousin were all self-serving creeps. I know that now. My mother was a brittle, damaged alcoholic. I know that, too. And you added that up and decided I must be more of the same and you’d cut me out of your life before I could contaminate you.’
‘It was much, much more than that.’
‘How would I know? Neither of you had the courtesy to explain.’
‘I thought your mother—’
‘I’d already said she’d told me nothing. She died four years ago, still having told me nothing.’
Unbidden, the hurt of so many years was spilling out, fury at her mother mixed with fury at Leo. But it was crazy, dumb, useless. It was adolescent anger, hurt from a time she should have put behind her.
She understood now, or she thought she did. After that night she’d done her own investigation into her mother’s family and she even understood why Leo had walked away. Sort of.
‘If I’d stayed with you I could never have come home again,’ he said. ‘I knew that.’
‘And coming home was everything.’
‘It was.’ He hesitated. ‘Hell, Anna, I should have spelled it out. I know that. But this country...you’re getting a sense now of how impoverished we are. To send me to London to do medicine...it was a huge deal for the islanders. My father was dead and my mother had no means of support. I should have gone fishing when I was twelve, but my teachers told the town how smart I was. To be honest, most smart kids leave the island as soon as they can but I couldn’t walk away from my mother for ever, and the islanders knew it. So when I said I wanted to be a doctor, somehow they managed it. I still don’t know how. Because of the draconian rule of your family, every cent had to be accounted for.’
‘But they never have been my family,’ she managed, and he held up his hands, the same way he’d held them up ten years ago. Warding her off.
‘Anna, I’ve said I’m sorry. I’m also sorry for being too immature to explain properly, for walking away so fast. But to be honest, maybe it was for the best, getting it over with fast.’ He hesitated. ‘I hope you did get over it fast. You hav
e a partner now?’
What was there to say to that? A woman had some pride. ‘Don’t kid yourself that I’ve mourned you for ten years,’ she told him, attempting to glower. ‘I’ve had a very good time. I have a great job, a lovely home, dogs. I started dating Martin two years ago. He’s a lawyer and a friend, and he’d be here in a flash if I asked him. As would any number of my friends.’
‘But not now that you’re injured?’
‘I have a sore head, not a cerebral bleed. And you...’ Two could play at his game. ‘Wife? Kids? Goldfish?’
‘I’m too busy for relationships,’ he said brusquely. ‘Moving on. Anna, the idea of the hospital...you’re saying no.’
She hesitated. She was trying hard to be grown up, she told herself. She needed to shelve her adolescent self. She needed to get over a pain that surely should be well gone.
A hospital. Here.
Martin’s advice had been sound. ‘Do nothing. You can spend twenty years planning what to do when you finally inherit. Just go and look and then come home.’
Home sounded infinitely appealing.
But so did doing something. Something splendid?
‘I didn’t say no,’ she said, slowly now, thinking it through. If she could get over the past, if she could see how this could happen... If she could get over how this man made her feel...
‘Tell you what,’ she said, pushing herself to her feet again. And once again she wobbled and needed to let Leo take her arm to steady her. Regardless. ‘I’m rested,’ she said. ‘Yes, I’m still a bit shaky but I’m okay. Let’s put...let’s put everything behind us. You know this castle?’
‘I have been in it,’ he said. ‘I was your cousin’s treating doctor.’
‘So you’ve been in his bedroom and in the entrance. Anywhere else?’
‘I knew a lot of it as a boy,’ he admitted. ‘Your uncle ran on a skeleton staff so we could sneak around undetected. As kids...we did do our own exploring.’
‘Well, there you go,’ she said, determinedly cheerful. Determined to let bygones be bygones. Determined not to let the feel of his hand on her arm make her feel...what she needed to be long over feeling. ‘You know it, and you’ve obviously thought this through. So, Dr Aretino. Let’s forget the girlfriend-boyfriend thing. Let’s also forget the doctor-patient thing. We’re medical colleagues and you have a medical-based proposal. Let’s take a walk through this castle. My castle,’ she amended, because she was still getting her head around it and if she was going to face Victoir down then she needed the authority. And it wouldn’t hurt if this man held her at a distance either.
‘Victoir’s shown me Yanni’s over-the-top apartments and he’s shown me through sections that are obviously dangerous,’ she told him. ‘But I know he has his own agenda. Let’s turn what we can into more opulence and knock the rest down, is the gist of what he’s telling me. So, Dr Aretino, let’s go for a tour and you can tell me how any other option would be possible.’
CHAPTER SIX
HE’D DREAMED OF this since he was twelve years old. The night his father had died he’d stood sobbing under the shadow of the massive castle. That night of tears had matured into a vow to create a medical service equal to any in the world—or at least a medical service to stop islanders dying needlessly, uselessly, heartbreakingly.
He hadn’t succeeded. Sure, he’d done a lot. He’d got through medical school. He and Carla had badgered the Castlavarans to give enough to provide basic services for themselves, and they’d organised islander contributions. He’d used contacts he’d made during training to plead for donations from abroad. They’d achieved a basic needs hospital with basic needs facilities.
But there wasn’t enough staff, enough equipment, enough of anything.
‘I need to get my head around the present situation,’ Anna was saying. She’d put on shoes and socks. They were heading out from her room into the start of the endless corridors leading...well, he knew where. Anna clearly didn’t.
He had his hand under her arm. He wasn’t sure whether she needed it but she wasn’t pulling away, and he wasn’t about to let go.
‘What do you want to know?’ he asked.
‘Everything,’ she said expansively. ‘But for a start... Why don’t you have enough doctors?’
‘We have no university on the island.’ He hesitated. ‘More than that. If we scrape to send one of our students to med school they’re offered jobs overseas that are far more lucrative than here. Six years away...they learn to like things that the island can’t offer.’
‘And sometimes they fall in love and stay,’ she said, and he winced. Hell, he’d like to turn back time.
He couldn’t. ‘As you say,’ he said formally.
‘So the hospital...’
‘We had no funds to build from new. We’ve knocked four houses into one.’
‘Which explains why it’s a rabbit warren.’
‘We had no choice. Every islander is eking out a precarious existence on what land they have. There are no central open spaces and no money to build.’
And then they turned the last passage to the door that opened to the great hall.
Which was...great.
Leo had been in here once when he was eight years old. He and his mates had burrowed through the tunnels and emerged to explore.
Here they’d stopped, so gobsmacked that they’d forgotten caution. One of the Castlavaran retainers had found them and thrown them out.
He’d thought, over the years, that his impression must have been influenced by his size. Everything looked huge to an eight-year-old.
But it was vast. Columns soared three storeys high to a vaulted ceiling. There was a massive stone-tiled floor. The walls were covered by enormous tapestries, frayed and faded.
The focus point was a fireplace, and what a fireplace. It took up half the end wall. Blackened by fires from the ages, it reeked of history.
‘Victoir’s plans have this down as a central gymnasium and swimming pool for the apartments,’ Anna said, conversationally. As if it was of no import at all. ‘So what would you do with it in your plan? I can hardly see it divided into individual wards. Nurses’ station perhaps?’
He smiled. It was the first time he’d felt like smiling for days, and the sensation was...okay.
But he was here on a mission. Focus, he told himself.
‘A swimming pool would be a great idea,’ he said, forcing his voice to sound calm. To not sound eager instead. ‘Can you imagine this place as a rehab centre? A pool, walking routes, grab bars around the walls, ball games, nets and loops, whatever... Right now, if islanders are injured we scrounge enough to get them off the island for immediate treatment. But the cost of overseas rehab is out of the question, so they come back and we do the best we can. But here... Anna, can you imagine what this place would look like?’
He hesitated, catching his passion and corralling it. ‘Sorry. I’m way ahead of myself. Setting this place up as a hospital will be costly enough without adding swimming pools. I’m not hoping for the world, just a working hospital.’
‘Maybe,’ she said non-committally. ‘Show me more.’
So he did. Victoir didn’t show his face. The small number of servants employed for upkeep were nowhere to be seen.
Leo had seen the rooms used by Anna, and before her by members of her family. He’d been here to treat Yanni for his many complaints, real and imagined. Those rooms were so opulent they were enough to make him recoil in distaste. Staff rooms opening onto the courtyard were clinical, neat and serviceable, but they were a tiny percentage of the castle space.
The rest, seen now for the first time since his childhood exploring, was a vast mishmash of different styles, different tastes, different generations. Dust sheets shrouding ancient furniture. Ancient drapes and wallpaper hung in tatters. Plaster split, cracked, falling. He could see rising damp.
He found himself growing more discouraged as they went from floor to floor, from room to room. The corridors were ill lit, with single light bulbs sparsely spaced. Most of the rooms were lit by the same single bulb, many with frayed, dangling cords. He thought of what it would cost to update the electrics and the thought made him feel ill.
Victoir’s idea of apartments might get itself past the trustees as there’d be money coming in, but what he was proposing was surely out of the question. Rooms would have to be knocked together, lifts put in, the whole place practically gutted.
They walked from room to room, from level to level, silent. When he started to speak Anna shushed him.
‘Victoir gave me a quick tour on my first day here,’ she said. ‘He talked all the time, about his apartment plans. About them being the only option. He’s pushing me to do it urgently, telling me the place is falling down. I cracked my head over his plans. Let me take time to absorb yours.’
But Leo no longer had plans. As they opened each door the plans faded further and further from the realms of the possible.
Finally they emerged to the vast circle of parapets, to the walkway around long-unused battlements. To a moonlit view that enveloped the whole island, outward to the faint outline of Italy beyond.
This view, and the pristine beach below, long protected by castle walls, were the reason Victoir envisaged apartments for the super-rich, Leo thought. They’d flock here, to an untouched, luxury, Mediterranean retreat. It’d be historic, fascinating, available to only the feted few.
Instead of a hospital.
But his enthusiasm had disappeared. By the time they reached the battlements he was accepting its impossibility. The cost... How could he even have thought it?
The last hint of sunset was fading in the west, casting a faint tangerine hue over the ocean. A lone fishing boat was coming into harbour, its wake a translucent wash. While he stood silently by Anna’s side, accepting the impossibility of what he’d dreamed, a pod of dolphins started surfing its wake.
Second Chance with Her Island Doc Page 8