Not Just a Convenient Marriage

by Lucy Gordon - Not Just a Convenient Marriage

  ‘I’d have thought he was still a kid, at only nine, but—well—’

  ‘He’s going to be like his father,’ she said in a faintly teasing voice. ‘When he grows up he’ll insist on doing things his way.’

  ‘I’m not sure that being like me would be a blessing,’ he said wryly.

  ‘That depends exactly what you mean.’

  ‘I mean a lot that I’m not willing to explain. Now, about today. I want you to stay in bed. The doctor will come later, and we’ll see what he says. In the meantime, you stay here.’

  ‘But what about Charlie?’

  ‘Leave Charlie to me. I’ll be in the hotel next door and I’m taking him with me. I’m planning some changes, a small theatre, a casino. He might have useful suggestions.’

  ‘So he’ll be safely under your wing,’ she said. ‘Thank you.’

  ‘Don’t worry about anything. Goodbye for now. I’ll send some English newspapers up if you need distraction.’

  He was as good as his word. She spent the day browsing the papers, eating, sometimes nodding off. The doctor called and said she was improving enough to get up the next day.

  Once she got out of bed and went to the window where, by a lucky chance, she saw Damiano and Charlie in the alley below, deep in conversation.

  He’s safe, she thought contentedly. Oh, thank goodness we found this man.

  She returned to bed and dozed for another hour. When she awoke there was a soft knock on the door.

  ‘Come in,’ she called.

  It was Pietro, carrying a mug.

  ‘English tea,’ he said proudly. ‘Careful!’

  The last word was directed at Toby, who came flying into the room and leapt on the bed, forcing Pietro to back away to protect the tea.

  ‘It’s all right, I’ve got him,’ she said, clutching Toby. With an unconvincing attempt at severity she added, ‘You pestiferous pup. You can’t stop hurling yourself at me.’

  ‘Pestiferous?’ Pietro queried, setting the tea down beside her. ‘Is that an English word?’

  ‘Yes. It has several meanings, but one of them is “annoying”.’

  ‘Ah! Irritante.’

  ‘Definitely.’ She wagged a finger at Toby. ‘You are irritante.’

  ‘Wuff!’ He licked her finger.

  ‘He just takes everything in his stride.’ She laughed.

  ‘He does with you, because he loves you.’

  ‘And I love him. Oh, yes!’ She put her arms around the dog. ‘He reminds me of my own lovely Jacko.’

  ‘You have a dog?’

  ‘I used to, a few years ago. He died. But he’ll always be with me because we were so close. He was the first one who really loved me.’

  He stared. ‘Didn’t your parents love you?’

  ‘Yes, in their way, but—I think having a girl was a big disappointment for them.’

  ‘But that’s not fair,’ Pietro said indignantly.

  ‘Life often isn’t fair,’ she said wryly. ‘Some things we just have to put up with. Anyway, when they finally had a son the family was complete. And I always had Jacko to turn to. He belonged to my father, but he and I were specially close.

  ‘One day I walked into the room and Jacko’s whole face lit up with delight at the sight of me. Nobody had ever reacted to me like that before, and I just had to love him. I could tell him things I couldn’t tell anyone else.’

  Pietro nodded. ‘Yes. They understand everything.’

  ‘I’m sure you talk to Toby a lot.’ In a teasing voice she added, ‘Does he give you good advice?’

  ‘No, but he listens.’

  There was a forlorn note in his voice that made her reach out to him, touching him gently on the shoulder.

  ‘What is it, Pietro? Are you unhappy?’

  He didn’t answer, but she could see confusion in his face, and guessed he wasn’t sure whether to confide in her.

  ‘Can’t you tell me?’ she asked softly. ‘I’m a good listener. Almost as good as Toby.’

  He smiled, clearly reassured by her understanding, but still unwilling to speak.

  ‘Tell me,’ she urged. ‘Please, tell me.’

  CHAPTER FOUR

  WHEN PIETRO STILL didn’t reply she said, ‘Won’t you trust me? You never know, I might be able to help.’

  But he shook his head. ‘Nobody can help. You can’t change things that have happened.’

  ‘That’s true. But you can change what you do about them. Is there something wrong at school? I remember when I was at school there was often something wrong. I kept getting into scrapes.’

  She sensed at once that she was succeeding. Pietro’s intake of breath and his astonished look told her she’d hit a bull’s eye.

  ‘It’s school, isn’t it?’ she asked gently. ‘What happens?’

  ‘They laugh at me,’ he said morosely.

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Because of her, and the way she ran off.’

  ‘Her? You mean your stepmother?’

  ‘Yes, her. It was the school concert. I was going to sing a song all on my own. She and Papa were going to be there, but she didn’t come. He told me that she’d gone away.’

  Sally drew a sharp breath. ‘You hadn’t known she was leaving?’

  ‘No. She was at home when I went to school that day, but she didn’t come to the concert. Papa was there. He thought she was coming, but she didn’t. Her seat stayed empty, and they laughed at me.’

  ‘Who did?’

  ‘The others in my class. They thought it was funny to see me look silly. Especially Renzo. The rest of them admire him, and if he laughs they all laugh.’

  The class bully, Sally thought wryly. I’ve met a few.

  ‘But surely he’s not still laughing?’ she ventured.

  ‘He keeps finding new things to jeer at. He says I must be a monster if my mother had to run away from me.’

  ‘Have you told your father about this?’

  ‘No, no!’ he shouted in sudden agitation. ‘He mustn’t know.’

  ‘But why not?’

  ‘I can’t tell him everyone thinks I’m an idiot.’

  ‘But he’d be on your side. He wouldn’t let them bully you.’

  ‘I’d look like a weakling. Papa only likes strong people. Promise you won’t tell him.’ He reached out and clung to her, crying, ‘Promise, promise.’

  Horrified by his misery, she put her arms about him, holding him in an embrace that she hoped he would find comforting. His request tormented her. How could she deceive Damiano about his child’s unhappiness? Yet how could she deny Pietro a promise for which he begged so desperately? In despair she raised her head.

  And then she saw Damiano.

  He was standing in the open door, his gaze fixed on them, his expression astounded. Instinctively she raised a hand and waved him away. Without hesitation he backed off.

  ‘Promise,’ Pietro said again, looking up at her.

  ‘All right, I promise. I think your father should know, but you’re the person to tell him.’

  ‘No,’ he said. ‘I can’t. He’d just think I was stupid.’

  He drew away from her, his face set as though he was pulling himself together, determined to deny a moment of weakness.

  ‘I’m going,’ he said. ‘Don’t forget your tea.’

  ‘I won’t. Thank you, Pietro. You’ve been very kind.’

  He left without another word. Sally listened, wondering if he would discover his father in the corridor. But she heard nothing, and after a moment Damiano appeared. He closed the door behind him and stood staring at her.

  She knew a moment’s pity for the misery in his face. This was a man who’d received a cruel blow, and was reeling from the shock.

  ‘Did Pietro see you?’ she asked anxiously.

  ‘No, I kept out of sight. Can you imagine that? I hid from my young son. I was afraid to let him see me. What a coward!’

  ‘You’re not a coward. If he’d seen you he’d have been upset. It’s not cowardl
y to consider your child’s feelings.’

  ‘Thank you, but I can’t give myself that escape. I didn’t do it for his feelings, but my own. If he’d known I was there listening he’d have hated me.’

  ‘Sit down,’ she said, patting the bed. ‘We need to talk.’

  He sat, moving so heavily that it was almost a collapse, and dropping his head into his hands.

  ‘I had no idea!’ he groaned. ‘I never dreamed—’

  ‘You heard what he said?’

  ‘Every word.’

  ‘But you always knew he was upset at his stepmother’s departure.’

  ‘Yes, but not the way it happened, vanishing on the night he was looking forward to.’

  ‘You never suspected she was going?’

  ‘No, she was cunning enough to keep quiet. I spent the morning at work and went to the school from there. We were supposed to meet at the concert. When she didn’t show up I just thought she’d been delayed, but when we got home there was a letter saying she’d left.’

  ‘And nothing for Pietro?’

  ‘Nothing. Not a word, not a parting gift. Nothing. One of the neighbours looked in and saw what was happening. She had a son at the same school and I imagine that’s how the story got around. But I never knew about the trouble it has caused Pietro.’

  He raised his head, looking at her with despairing eyes.

  ‘Why didn’t he tell me? He must know I love him.’

  ‘But he wants your respect as well. He’s afraid to seem weak.’

  ‘At his age? He’s a child.’

  ‘When you were his age did you think of yourself as a child?’

  ‘No,’ he groaned. ‘In his position I’d have been too proud to ask for help, just like him. Of course he couldn’t tell me. But he could tell you. I saw the way he threw himself into your arms, the only person he could trust. I heard him beg you not to tell me—’

  ‘Don’t blame him for that,’ she said quickly.

  ‘I don’t blame him. I blame myself for being a father he can’t talk to.’

  He dropped his head back into his hands. ‘What can I do? I just don’t know where to begin.’

  Saddened by his self-blame, she reached out to him. At the feel of her gentle touch he leaned sideways until his head was nearly against her shoulder. It was so like the moment when Pietro had sought refuge in her arms that she drew a tremulous breath at the strange sensation that fluttered through her without warning.

  Suddenly the stern, commanding man and the vulnerable child seemed almost the same person.

  But he pulled away quickly, as though alarmed by what he was doing. He thumped a knee with his fist, not looking at her.

  ‘I think I know how you can deal with this,’ she said. ‘Talk to him about your own childhood. I’m sure he confided in me because I told him I used to have problems when I was at school. That made him feel I could understand. Try to tell him about something that put you at a disadvantage when you were a child, so that you felt you couldn’t cope. Then he’ll realise that you know how he feels now, and he’s more likely to confide in you.’

  He considered for a moment before nodding. ‘I see what you mean. But I can’t remember—’

  ‘Can’t remember ever being at a disadvantage?’ she asked. ‘You’ll think of something. And if you don’t, then invent something.’

  ‘Lie?’

  ‘Yes. Sometimes lying is the best thing to do. It can be the most useful, the kindest, and the most honest.’

  He gave a wry grin.

  ‘Thank goodness you’re here. I can see I’m going to need your advice. You won’t be leaving yet, will you? The longer you’re here, the better.’

  ‘Yes, I’ll stay a while. I don’t want to go back to England in case Wilton finds us again.’

  ‘Right. You’re better off here. And I’ve promised to protect Charlie.’

  ‘Thank you.’

  He rose and went to leave, pausing at the door.

  ‘Tell me something. You promised Pietro not to tell me what he’d confided in you. If I hadn’t overheard, would you have kept that promise?’

  ‘I’d have kept it for a while, so that I might persuade him to tell you himself.’

  ‘And if he didn’t? Would you have told me?’

  She hesitated.

  ‘You wouldn’t, would you?’ he persisted.

  ‘I don’t know. He’s suffering this terrible feeling of betrayal by your wife. To break my promise would be to betray him again. I simply don’t know what I’d do.’

  ‘That’s what I thought,’ he said wryly. And departed without another word.

  She drank her tea slowly, trying to get her mind around the events of the day, not entirely succeeding.

  I’ve got to get up, she thought. I’m too helpless here, and helpless is something I can’t afford to be.

  Before she could move there was a knock on her door and Charlie came in.

  ‘Nora wants to know if you’ll have dinner up here or come downstairs,’ he said.

  ‘I’m coming down.’

  ‘I’ll go and tell her.’

  ‘Wait, Charlie, there’s something I want to ask you. How did Wilton know where you were?’

  ‘He knows a private detective. He owes Wilton money too, and he pays it by chasing the rest of us.’

  ‘So they were watching you. That’s scary. What will happen now?’

  ‘Nothing, Damiano’s sorting it. He’s got friends in high places who’ll see that Wilton is booted out of the country. He’s probably gone already, and he won’t be allowed back. Damiano’s a powerful man, Sally. We’re lucky we’ve got him on our side.’

  ‘Yes,’ she murmured. ‘We are. I dread to think what might happen if—’

  ‘If what?’

  ‘Nothing,’ she said quickly. This was no time to start speculating on how life would be if she and Damiano were on opposing sides.

  ‘But what were you going to say?’ Charlie demanded.

  ‘I forget. But I wanted to ask you why Wilton said you still owed him money.’

  ‘Oh, just a bit.’

  ‘How large a bit?’

  ‘Well—’

  ‘You don’t even know, do you?’ she demanded.

  ‘I’ll have to work it out. I was going to pay him later, when I had a bit more—you know—’

  ‘And when would you have had any more?’

  ‘I could get a job.’

  ‘How many times have I heard you say that? Oh, heavens! Now I’ve got to find some more money.’

  ‘It’s all right. Damiano’s going to sort that too.’

  ‘You think we can leave everything to him?’

  ‘But that’s what he said. “Leave it all to me.” And if he’s willing to help us, why not take it?’

  Why not? she thought. Because a small inner voice warned her to be cautious about Damiano. He was a man used to being in control, giving orders and seeing them obeyed.

  Except where Pietro was concerned. For his son’s sake he had put himself in her hands, frankly admitting his need of her help.

  She remembered him asking if she would have kept her promise to the child, and his tense expression when she’d said she didn’t know. There had been a hint of defiance in her answer, and she guessed defiance was something he wasn’t used to.

  So he’s not completely in control, she mused. Some control is in my hands. And he knows it. He doesn’t like it, but he loves Pietro enough to accept it.

  ‘Tell them I’ll be down in a moment,’ she said.

  She dressed quickly, and hurried down to find Damiano in his office. He smiled at the sight of her.

  ‘Nice to see you looking well.’

  ‘I’m feeling fine, and I’m very hungry.’

  ‘That’s a good sign.’

  ‘But I also wanted to talk to you. Charlie told me what you said to him, about helping him with his debts. I’m sorry all this got dumped on you. We had no right—’

  ‘It’s not a matter of rights
,’ he said. ‘It’s a matter of helping my friends. After all, you’re helping me.’

  ‘Yes, but I don’t want you to think I’m taking advantage, making use of you. Charlie’s debts are my responsibility, not yours.’

  ‘But I can help out for a while. Are you upset because I’m interfering?’

  ‘I don’t know what I am,’ she admitted. ‘Confused, yes. Scared, yes. But I won’t dump it all on you. I don’t expect you to clear the debts he owes.’

  Before her eyes Damiano’s ‘mask’ changed. The efficient organiser vanished to be replaced by a humorous charmer. It was there in the gleam of his eyes, and even more in his words.

  ‘All right, we’ll make a deal,’ he said. ‘I’ll take care of Charlie’s debts, and I won’t worry about what it costs me, because at the end I’ll present you with a bill.’

  ‘You’ll—?’

  ‘It’ll probably be a very large bill because I’ll add interest for my trouble. But it’ll save you the problem of being indebted to me, which I know will make you happy. It will, won’t it?’ His expression was teasing.

  ‘B-but of course,’ she stammered. ‘What else—?’

  ‘If you could only see your face now. Sally, you can’t have thought I meant it about the bill?’ Damiano smiled.

  ‘But—’

  ‘I was just trying to show you how absurd you’re being.’

  ‘But it feels as though you are taking control and—’

  ‘And you prefer to be the one in control,’ he supplied.

  Since this was exactly what she’d been thinking about him it made her speechless for a moment. But then she saw that he was still smiling, and sighed.

  ‘You’re right,’ she admitted. ‘It’s just that—’

  ‘It’s just that you didn’t choose for it to be this way, but having to look after Charlie forced you.’

  ‘I guess it made me a bossy woman.’

  ‘Don’t worry. To show that I forgive you I’ll halve the bill.’

  ‘Oh, really. Well, I may present you with one myself. Twice as large.’

  ‘Hey, you’re learning. But like I said, I believe in paying my debts, and as a start I’m going to spend some time introducing you to Venice. You’re going to love it.’

  ‘I know I will.’

  ‘We’ll start tomorrow.’

  He was as good as his word. Next day, Pietro had a day off from school, so they all set out after breakfast in a motor boat driven by his personal driver.