Not Just a Convenient Marriage

by Lucy Gordon - Not Just a Convenient Marriage

  ‘You must have had a wonderful reunion,’ she ventured.

  ‘Yes, we did. I could hardly believe it then and I can still hardly believe it, even now—’ He stopped, suddenly self-conscious. ‘I’m sorry. What am I thinking of to be talking of her just before I marry you? Please forgive my appalling manners.’

  ‘There’s nothing to forgive,’ she insisted. ‘You’re talking because I’m encouraging you. Damiano, we’re not in love. We both understand that. We’re marrying because we each gain something we want, and we like each other enough to make it work. We can be good friends. Can you talk about her to anyone else?’

  He shook his head.

  ‘Then talk to me. Let me be your best friend, the person you trust and confide in. It won’t be the same as you enjoyed with her, but it might just give you a kind of contentment.’

  He regarded her as if wondering if he’d heard properly, and how he should understand what she was saying.

  ‘Do you really mean that?’ he asked at last.

  ‘Yes, I really mean it. And I always will.’

  ‘Thank you,’ he whispered. He took her hands between his and lowered his head to kiss them. ‘Thank you.’

  She tightened her hands on his to cope with the tension surging through her.

  ‘Now we know we can talk freely,’ she said. ‘So tell me everything about how things happened between you and Gina. She was English, wasn’t she? How did you meet?’

  ‘Her brother had a shop on one of the islands. I went there one day and fell in love with her in the first moment. I wanted to marry her, but she had ambitions to be a model, and she went back to England fairly soon because she’d been offered an assignment.

  ‘She had a fairly good career, not as successful as she hoped, but good enough to keep her trying. If she had a few weeks off she’d come out here and we could be together, but it seemed a very one-sided relationship. I adored her and she knew it, but she kept a certain emotional distance. She was charming to me, but she didn’t return my passion and my embraces had to be restrained. When we met it was always because I’d gone to see her. She didn’t come to me. This went on for several years.’

  ‘Years?’

  ‘Yes. I often told myself that enough was enough, that I should break it off and return to having a life of my own, one that she didn’t dominate. But I could never kill the hope. She was worth waiting for, and I was sure that one day my love would come to mean so much to her that she would have to return it. But then she went away again, for much longer this time, and I thought I’d lost her for ever.

  ‘But on the night of the ball a miracle happened. I saw a lovely mask, and I knew at once that she was the person behind it. She hadn’t even told me she was coming, just appeared out of the blue, like a magical apparition.

  ‘That night she became mine. As we lay together I knew that dreams can come true. She gave herself to me with all the love in her nature.

  ‘After that we belonged to each other, heart and soul. I begged her to marry me and we set the wedding for the soonest possible date. The time that followed was the happiest I’d ever known. When we learned that she was pregnant I couldn’t believe that heaven could be so kind. The future seemed to stretch before us, an endless road full of infinite joy. And then—’

  His voice choked off suddenly and his head drooped. Now she couldn’t see his face but she didn’t need to. She knew it was transformed with grief in a way she didn’t want to see. She’d spoken bravely about being his friend, defining their relationship in a way that they could both endure.

  For the moment.

  In time their closeness might develop another dimension, but just now she must live in hope.

  Damiano raised his head again and she saw the glisten of tears on his face.

  ‘And then she died,’ he murmured. ‘And it was my fault.’

  ‘No, it wasn’t. Don’t say that.’

  ‘I gave her the child whose birth killed her. But for that she’d still be alive today. It haunts me and it always will. She opened her arms to me because she wanted the life I could give her, but I destroyed her.’

  She struggled for words that might comfort him, but there were no words. Deep inside he carried a burden of guilt that, however unjustified, tormented him night and day. Her heart ached for his pain and her own helplessness.

  ‘Part of me died with her,’ he went on. ‘I would have died completely but for the child she left me. Pietro is her son and mine.’

  ‘Yes,’ she murmured. ‘In him you are united for ever with her. And while you have him you’ll never completely lose her.’

  ‘Thank you,’ he whispered. ‘Thank you, dear Sally.’ He laid his lips against her hand.

  ‘I’m here for you,’ she whispered. ‘And I always will be.’

  ‘Always,’ he echoed. ‘There was a time when that word tormented me, when I couldn’t believe that anything could be for always. But you give me faith again.’

  She laid her lips gently against his. For a tense moment she waited for his response, wondering if he would take her in his arms and turn his affectionate words into actions. But he drew back.

  ‘Goodnight,’ he whispered. ‘Tomorrow we’ll—we’ll talk some more.’

  He rose and went to the door.

  ‘Goodnight,’ he said again, and departed quickly.

  She stayed motionless, trying to sort out her own thoughts and feelings. She had been briefly tempted to embrace him and take matters further, but every instinct told her this was not the time. Absorbed in his memories of Gina, the great love of his life, he was not ready to turn to her.

  The time would come, she thought. And if she could be patient, it would be all the sweeter.

  *

  Now things moved fast. The date was set, the hotel’s wedding chapel was booked. Mario was to be the best man. Charlie would give her away.

  Damiano introduced her to Luisa, whose job it was to organise everything. She was an elderly woman with a friendly air and a strong sense of humour. She and Sally took to each other at once.

  ‘Let me show you the chapel,’ she said. ‘It’s as fine as anything you’ll ever see.’

  That was an understatement. Like the rest of the palazzo the chapel was several hundred years old, with a soaring roof, elaborate decorations and an air of luxury. Sally gazed up at the ceiling in wonder, trying to imagine herself against this glorious background. It was hard to believe, but so much was happening to her than she could ever have imagined.

  ‘They all want to be married here,’ Luisa told her. ‘You wouldn’t believe some of the famous people who’ve chosen this rather than anywhere else.’

  She gave a brief list, enjoying Sally’s look of startled disbelief.

  ‘Him?’ Sally exclaimed at one of the more glamorous names. ‘Surely not. He’s a big film star.’

  ‘I’m not kidding you. Come and see the files.’

  She took Sally through a door at the back of the chapel, and opened a large book full of wedding pictures. Sally browsed through them, noting the well-known names with interest and amusement.

  But at the very end of the book she found something that made her grow still.

  The picture showed a bride and groom standing close together, gazing into each other’s eyes, so absorbed in each other that the rest of the world might not have existed.

  Gina and Damiano.

  She could just recognise Gina. It was the difference in Damiano that took her breath away. This young man was gentle, vulnerable, open to the world. His adoration of his bride was written all over his face. As long as she was his he cared nothing who knew how he felt.

  She thought of the man he had become now, hard-faced, emotionally armoured, sadly different from the eager boy so clearly shown in the picture.

  ‘Is anyone there?’

  The sound of Damiano’s voice made her shut the book quickly and hide it away. He must not find her looking at the picture of him with the wife he’d loved as he would never love
herself.

  ‘I’m here,’ she called, returning to the chapel. ‘Luisa has been showing me around. It’s a magnificent place. You don’t think perhaps it’s a little too magnificent for me? We could tie the knot somewhere else.’

  Subtly she was giving him the chance to escape marrying here where Gina’s ghost lingered.

  ‘No, it must be here,’ he said. ‘If we didn’t use the hotel chapel eyebrows would be raised. Pietro would be worried in case our marriage wasn’t real.’

  And Pietro was the reason it was all happening, she remembered. How foolish of her to have forgotten that.

  Luisa bustled in again.

  ‘Let me show you your dressing room,’ she said. ‘It’s right next door and it’s where you’ll get ready on the day.’

  There were two rooms where she would be attended by a maid and a make-up artist, both provided by the hotel. Then she would be ready to step onto the ‘stage’ playing an unfamiliar role, wearing a mask she didn’t completely understand.

  Luisa took her to the hotel jeweller’s shop, where the assistant measured Sally’s finger, and handed over a ring. Then she produced another ring designed for a male hand. Luisa signed for both on Damiano’s behalf, and took possession of them.

  It was like being part of a well-oiled machine, Sally thought, feeling slightly dizzy.

  Luisa came with her into Damiano’s house.

  ‘Here’s the ring that you’ll give him,’ she said, pressing a small packet into her hand. ‘I wish you every happiness.’

  She walked away to his office, to hand over the other ring, Sally guessed. She could faintly hear the sound of their voices, and hurried away to her room.

  Studying the ring, she found it plain and gold. She wondered about the one Gina must have given him, and guessed he kept it hidden away somewhere like a sacred relic.

  After half an hour he knocked on her door.

  ‘Did everything go well?’ he asked.

  ‘It all went as well as it possibly could.’

  ‘Splendid. Then let me show you the sleeping arrangements.’

  He led her to his room, which she would soon share with him.

  ‘You can keep your present room as well,’ he told her. ‘It’ll be somewhere to retreat when you find me impossible to endure.’

  ‘Thank you,’ she said with a faint smile. ‘I dare say in time I’ll learn to put up with you, but let’s not rush it.’

  ‘Very wise.’

  She got the message. Damiano’s room would be officially hers because that was what everyone would expect. The reality of their ‘marriage’ must remain private to themselves.

  That might be hard, she thought, looking at the bed. It was wide, even for a double bed, but there was no barrier between the man and the woman who would share it. She wondered if this was where he’d slept with Gina.

  I might need to slip away to my own room quite often, she mused. That’s probably what he’s hoping.

  Downstairs they found Pietro waiting for them, looking worried.

  ‘Is something wrong?’ Sally asked.

  ‘It’s your honeymoon,’ he said. ‘You haven’t arranged it yet. Look, I’ve got lots of brochures about places for you to go.’

  It was the one thing they hadn’t thought of. Now Damiano’s expression told her that for once he’d been caught off-guard. Inspiration came to her.

  ‘But we’re not going away at all,’ she said. ‘We wouldn’t enjoy it without you. And you can’t come with us because you’ve got to go to school. So we’re going to spend the honeymoon here, and in your spare time you can show me around Venice. I’m longing to see everything about this lovely place.’

  Pietro gave a gasp of delight and looked eagerly at his father for confirmation. Damiano nodded at his son, then nodded again at Sally. There was no doubt that she’d done the right thing.

  When Pietro had raced away to tell Toby the good news, she said, ‘I suppose I shouldn’t really have backed you into a corner without telling you first, but what else could I do?’

  ‘Nothing. You did well and I’m in complete agreement.’ He added wryly, ‘But the next time you accuse me of ordering people about like puppets I shall remind you of this.’

  ‘Yes, I suppose I did the same, but, after all, I’m learning from a master. And I dare say there are still plenty of tough tactics you can teach me.’

  ‘Do you know, I’m beginning to wonder if there’s anything I can teach you about conniving. But your idea is brilliant. I’m full of admiration. And that seems to be that. Everything is in place.’

  ‘Everything,’ she agreed, wondering what ‘everything’ really meant. ‘I must go now. I’ve got some emails to send.’

  ‘Me too. Goodbye until supper.’

  CHAPTER NINE

  THE NIGHT BEFORE the wedding Damiano said, ‘There’s an old wedding tradition in Venice. As she walks down the aisle the bride finds a child in her way. He needs help, so she gives him what help she can, and everyone knows she’ll be a good mother. It dates back ages, but some brides still like to include it for sentimental reasons.’

  ‘And you want me to include it for Pietro?’

  ‘Pietro wants you to include it. This afternoon he asked if I thought you’d do it. It would mean a lot to him.’

  ‘Of course I will.’

  ‘Let’s go up and tell him.’

  They found Pietro sitting up in bed.

  ‘She said yes,’ Damiano said. ‘I told you she would.’

  Pietro flung his arms around her, burying his face. She hugged him back, meeting Damiano’s eyes and seeing in them his pleasure and satisfaction at his son’s happiness.

  ‘Goodnight, my son,’ he said.

  ‘Goodnight, Papa. Goodnight, Mamma.’

  It was the first time he’d actually called her by that name and it brought tears to her eyes.

  ‘Goodnight, my son,’ she said huskily.

  His beaming look was her answer, and they hugged each other blissfully for a minute.

  ‘Sleep now,’ she said.

  ‘Yes, Mamma.’ He snuggled down.

  ‘He loves calling you that,’ Damiano murmured as they left the room.

  ‘I love it too. I wonder if any stepmother has ever been so warmly welcomed.’

  ‘To him, you are more than just a stepmother. You’re his mother now.’

  ‘Yes, that’s what I am.’

  She thought he might have added that she would be a wife as well as a mother, but he said no more.

  ‘Come with me a moment,’ he said.

  At his bedroom door he paused, went inside and emerged with a large box in his hand. ‘I haven’t yet given you a wedding present,’ he said. ‘Let’s go to your room first.’

  When they were there he opened the box to reveal a heavy diamond necklace.

  ‘Oh, it’s—it’s beautiful,’ she gasped. ‘Put it on for me.’

  He settled it around her neck while she gazed into the mirror, trying to believe that this was really her, wearing the necklace of such dazzling glitter. She knew little of jewellery but clearly this was wickedly expensive.

  ‘You didn’t have to do this,’ she breathed.

  ‘But I did. This is my thank you for what you’re doing. Sally, I think you hardly know what you’ve given me. When I see the happiness in my son’s face I know a new happiness myself, a happiness I never thought to know again. And it’s all due to you. Take this with my eternal gratitude.’

  ‘But I-I don’t have anything for you,’ she stammered. ‘I didn’t know what to get you as a gift.’

  ‘You’ve already given me the greatest gift I shall ever know.’

  They surveyed their reflections, with him standing just behind her. Their eyes met in the mirror.

  ‘Perfect,’ he said. ‘I’d like you to wear it tomorrow. Everyone who sees it will know how much you mean to me.’

  He removed the necklace and replaced it in the box.

  ‘Get a good night’s sleep,’ he said. ‘
Tomorrow will be a big day and—well—goodnight.’

  He kissed her cheek and left the room. She followed him to the door and watched him go down the corridor without looking back. Then she went to her window and stood still, trying to get her thoughts in order.

  A big day, Damiano had said. But it was more than a big day. It was the start of a new universe, one that she was plunging into with a recklessness that was normally alien to her.

  She was leaving her country to live in a strange land, married to a man she’d known only a short time. Yet with every fibre of her being she was certain that she was doing the right thing—not because he was rich and showered her with valuable gifts. But because his need made him reach out to her in a way she couldn’t resist.

  Below her a gondola appeared, with two lovers locked in each other’s arms, oblivious to the world around them.

  She watched until they were out of sight. Then closed the window and went to bed.

  *

  Next morning they would not meet before the wedding. She breakfasted with Charlie, then slipped into the hotel and went to the rooms set aside for the bride’s preparation. A maid helped her dress, then the make-up artist got to work. When she had finished she nodded in satisfaction at her own handiwork.

  ‘A beautiful bride,’ she said, and departed.

  Alone, Sally had to admit that the woman looking back at her from the mirror was closer to being a beauty than she’d ever seen before.

  But who is that? she thought. Me? Or just another mask?

  There was a knock on the door. Expecting to find Mario, she opened it.

  But outside there was a woman with a hard, determined face. For a moment Sally was bewildered. Then she remembered the two photographs she had seen by Pietro’s bed, and she gasped as she realised who this was.

  ‘I guess that means you know me,’ the woman said with a wry smile that was almost a sneer.

  She had aged since the photograph and now confronted the world aggressively. But there was no doubt this was Imelda.

  ‘Yes, I know you,’ Sally said, trying to speak through her shock. ‘You were—Damiano’s wife.’