‘Good. You kept me waiting too long. I know we made a deal but things changed, and it was time to renegotiate.’
‘What—exactly—changed?’ he asked, as though nervous of the answer.
‘I found that I wanted you more than I’d ever dreamed would happen. You began to matter to me in—all sorts of ways.’
Still she didn’t speak of love, hoping that he would say it first.
‘It’s the same with me,’ he said. ‘At first our marriage just seemed something I did for Pietro. I was really marrying you for myself, but I couldn’t admit it. It would have meant that I was losing control.’
‘Yes, you like to be in command, don’t you? Why does that matter so much?’
‘I could say that it’s the most efficient method of getting what I want,’ he said with a touch of wry humour. ‘If a man can count on getting his own way, he’d have to be a saint not to. And I’m no saint, as I don’t need to tell you.’
‘No, you certainly don’t need to tell me. But trying to take command doesn’t always make you the victor, and it can turn people against you.’
‘I am what I am. I can’t change now.’
‘But why? I know you’ve got businesses to run, but I feel it’s more than that.’
He was silent for a moment before saying quietly, ‘If I told you what makes me this way you might not believe me.’
‘Try.’
Again he was silent and she wondered if he meant to answer at all, but at last he uttered one word.
‘Fear.’
‘Did you say fear?’ she asked, wondering if she’d heard him right.
‘Yes.’
‘You’re right, it’s hard to believe. People are afraid of you, not you of them.’
‘It’s not people who scare me, but life. When things seem at their best there’s always something nasty waiting just around the corner. A wise man takes control as soon as possible, so that he has a defence.’
‘But does he?’ she asked gently. ‘The disasters waiting around the corner are always the last thing you expected.’ She touched his face. ‘You’re thinking of Gina, aren’t you? You were so happy, and then she died.’
She heard him take a long breath. He was gazing at her as though he’d seen an astounding revelation.
‘How right I was to want you,’ he said. ‘There’s nothing I couldn’t tell you, because you understand everything perfectly.’
‘It wasn’t hard to work out,’ she said. ‘I knew that Gina had been your life, and in some ways she still is.’
‘But it wasn’t just her loss. It was the way it happened, dying in childbirth when things might have been so different. Keeping control seemed the only way to feel safe. But then there was you and suddenly everything was different. With you I could believe again that the world can be a good place.’
She smiled gently. ‘Shall we make it a good place again now?’
He took her in his arms. ‘I think that’s a wonderful idea.’
This lovemaking was as beautiful as the last, but with the difference that now they knew each other better, knew that they were set on a road that would lead them to happiness.
Afterwards he slept, and she lay watching him. His face was totally relaxed and contented, like a man who had found peace and happiness at last.
And that was what he had told her. He hadn’t spoken of love, but he’d said she made the world a good place. They had found each other in desire but that alone was not enough. For a true marriage there must be the closeness of the heart.
But now his words implied that love was there, waiting for them.
‘I can be patient,’ she whispered. ‘Our time is coming.’
She leaned down to drop a light kiss on his mouth. He didn’t awaken, but a smile transformed his face. Somewhere, deep inside the place where he was now, he knew she had kissed him, and was happy.
Happy, she thought. Have I ever been as happy as I am now? Will I ever be as happy again? Yes. When we admit our love to each other my life will reach its peak.
On their first morning she’d ventured to give him a gentle kiss as he slept, then backed off quickly so that he shouldn’t discover her. Now she no longer had to fear, and she could allow herself the luxury of laying her face against his, sending him a silent message with her lips.
At once he began to smile and a soft chuckle broke from him.
‘You just don’t give up, do you?’ he murmured.
‘Nope. That’s why I always win.’
‘You think you won?’
‘Well, I didn’t lose.’
‘Perhaps we both won.’
‘Yes,’ she murmured. ‘Oh, yes.’
The next few minutes were a delight. If she could have stayed there with him all day she would gladly have done so, and her heart and senses told her he felt the same.
‘I suppose we’ve got to get up,’ she murmured at last, wrapped in his arms. ‘There’s so much to do.’
‘We’ve got a lot to do,’ he said. ‘But it’ll have to wait until tonight.’
It was time to remove the masks of passionate lovers, and assume those of respectable parents. It was hard but they managed it at breakfast, each taking a polite interest in Mario and Charlie’s activities at the hotel, but giving most of their attention to Pietro.
Afterwards they both joined him as he walked the short distance to school.
At the gate they waved him goodbye, then looked at each other. Alone at last.
‘There’s a café just along there,’ Damiano said.
They found the little place in the next alley, ordered coffee and sat sipping it contentedly.
‘Why was Pietro giving us those funny looks?’ Damiano asked.
‘We’ve never both seen him to school before. I think he’s wondering if something is different.’
‘Oh, yes, something’s different.’ His eyes met hers. ‘Everything is different.’
She nodded.
‘You’re a clever, scheming woman,’ he said, speaking with a smile that robbed his words of any offence. ‘Last night—you set the whole thing up, didn’t you?’
‘Mmm, I may have anticipated a few things.’
‘A few? You conned me into thinking you wouldn’t be there, then you turned up pretending to be someone else. Was I not supposed to recognise you?’
‘You were bound to recognise me after a few minutes. My mouth, my voice—but you didn’t have to admit you knew me. It made us both free of the past and free for the future.’ She chuckled. ‘I was getting fed up with you being so restrained and virtuous. All those weeks we’d been married and you never—well, I reckoned it was about time I taught you a lesson.’
‘You certainly did that,’ he said with feeling. ‘But did you really blame me for not making love to you?’
‘Of course I did. It was insulting.’
‘But it was your doing.’
‘Me? Did I ask you to keep your distance?’
‘In effect yes, when you proclaimed that you didn’t love me.’
‘I said that to Imelda, to shut her up. Surely you realised that?’
‘Yes, and if you’d left it there I might not have worried. But you also said you were perfectly safe from anything I could do to make you love me. You sounded so confident. I knew you weren’t marrying me for love—’
‘Any more than you were marrying me for love,’ she reminded him. ‘It was all for Pietro.’
‘Not quite all. Mostly it was for him, but there was something about you that I wanted, right from the start. You reached out to him so warmly that I found myself wondering how it would be if you reached out to me, then finding that I wanted you to do that. But you were always so cool and controlled—’
‘Because I thought that was what you wanted. We agreed how it should be.’
‘We said the right words, but things don’t always turn out according to the words.’
‘I know,’ she said. ‘You say all sorts of things, like how certain you are that you’l
l never care for someone, but then—’
‘But then?’ There was a new note in his voice that might have been hope.
‘Then—things happen,’ she said carefully. ‘People start to look different, and you wonder if they really are different, or whether they’re just wearing another mask.’
‘So you try on a few different masks of your own, and see how they react,’ he said. ‘And then?’
‘Then you know a little more about them and about yourself.’
‘And what do you do with your new knowledge?’ he mused. ‘Perhaps you use it to catch your husband at a disadvantage.’
‘No, you use it to find out what he wants.’
He regarded her intently. ‘And when you know that?’
‘It can take time to be sure.’
‘Don’t play with me, Sally. I gave myself away very completely last night. I knew it was you and nothing could have stopped me from making love to you, especially when I understood that was what you wanted.’ His voice became suddenly uneasy. ‘It was, wasn’t it?’
‘Oh, yes, it was,’ she assured him.
He reached out to take her hand. ‘I’m glad it all happened. I should have known I could rely on you to find the way. I’ve been so confused. When I started to—’ He hesitated.
Started to love me, she thought. Please say it.
‘When I started to—have feelings for you I tried to deny them. I felt guilty.’
‘Because of Gina.’
‘Yes. She gave me everything. It felt like a betrayal to love anyone else. But now—’
‘It’s not a betrayal,’ she said urgently. ‘Because you haven’t stopped loving her, and I hope you never will.’
‘You actually hope—?’
‘You still owe her your love and loyalty, and I’ll never try to change that. You have us both, and you always will. Damiano, you have nothing to feel guilty about. Nothing.’
It might have been a risk to speak to him in such a way, but her instincts told her the opposite was true. By confirming his link with Gina she was setting him free to love herself.
‘Do you mean that?’ he murmured. ‘That I’ll always have you both?’
‘Yes, I mean it. Can’t you tell?’
‘I can believe it if you say it, and I want to believe it with all my heart.’
‘Then believe me. I mean it and I always will. The path ahead is one that the two of us, with Gina and Pietro, will travel together.’
He didn’t answer in words, but he took her hand and lowered his head to lay his lips against it.
‘Thank you,’ he whispered.
‘People are staring at you,’ she said.
‘Let them stare. Let the whole world know how I feel about you.’
But how is that? she thought. Say the word love. Please say it.
‘Perhaps we’d better go,’ he said.
They walked home by the Grand Canal. Spring was reaching its height and the sun was shining as never before. Watching it glitter on the water, she felt as though the whole world was full of sunshine.
*
In the weeks that followed it seemed as though every part of her life was climaxing in triumph. Charlie had settled into his hotel training better than she could have hoped.
‘He’s doing well,’ Mario told her. ‘Of course, the fact that two pretty young waitresses are sighing for him has nothing to do with it.’
‘At least he’s happy.’ She laughed.
Summer was coming. The beautiful city glowed. Every day there were new celebrations, often involving dances at the hotels. Not all of them were masked, but they usually involved fancy costumes.
One day there was a glamorous wedding in the hotel chapel, followed by a magnificent ball, to which Damiano and Sally were invited.
She wore the dazzling red and blue dress that she’d worn before, but without the mask that had covered so much of her face. Instead she settled for one that only came down to the end of her nose, and left the lower half of her face free.
‘Good thinking,’ Damiano told her. ‘Otherwise I might forget who you are.’
‘Just try it,’ she threatened, laughing. ‘If you want to get thumped.’
‘Being thumped by you might be interesting. I must try it some time.’
They enjoyed a few dances together before separating to do their duty as hosts. Sally had a friendly chat with the bride before turning away and nearly colliding with a man in an Arlecchino costume and no mask.
‘I’m sorry,’ he said, steadying her. ‘That was clumsy of me.’
‘You’re English.’
‘Yes. And so must you be. I’m so glad to meet you. My Italian is terrible. I never understand a word anybody says. How do you manage in this country?’
‘I’m lucky enough to have an Italian husband. He translates for me when I need it.’
‘Is he here tonight?’
‘Yes, over there. He’s taken his mask off, and he’s standing by the door.’
Her companion glanced over to where she indicated. Then he tensed.
‘That’s your husband?’
‘Yes.’
‘Damiano Ferrone?’
‘Yes.’ His eyes were beginning to alarm her. More alarming still was the way he began to laugh.
‘What is it?’ she demanded.
‘So you’re Pietro’s stepmother. Well, well!’
‘What do you mean by that?’
‘How do you get on with that boy?’
‘Very well. He’s a lovely child.’
For some reason this seemed to amuse the man even more. Shaking with laughter, he rose and made his way out of the door into the garden. Annoyed, she followed him.
‘Is there something funny about me being fond of my stepson? My husband loves him and so do I.’
‘Your husband loves him. Oh, yes, that’s true. And do you know why?’
‘Why? Because Pietro’s his son, and because he loved his first wife, and that child is her legacy.’
‘No way. He was taken in by the oldest trick in the book. She said the baby was his, but it wasn’t. He trusted her. More fool him.’
‘What are you saying?’ she gasped incredulously.
‘I’m saying that kid isn’t his.’
‘Stop talking nonsense,’ she snapped. ‘Of course Pietro is his son.’
He thrust his face close to hers and spoke in a rasp.
‘Pietro’s real father was my brother. He and Gina slept together the night they met, and pretty often after that. Then she found herself pregnant, but he died two days later in a boating accident. And the next thing we heard she was marrying Ferrone. You don’t have to be a genius to work out what happened. She had to find a father for that baby so she jumped into Ferrone’s bed.’
Sally wanted to scream No! No! No! It isn’t possible!
But there in her mind was the memory of Damiano, his voice filled with emotion, telling her of the first time Gina had come to him.
‘I thought I’d lost her for ever. But on the night of the ball a miracle happened.That night she became mine. She gave herself to me with all the love in her nature.’
But her love had gone to another man, and she had made shameless use of Damiano’s adoration. Sally could no longer tell herself that it wasn’t true.
‘Why did you come here tonight?’ she demanded.
‘Because the time has come to tell him. I was about to make a deal with a very wealthy man, until Ferrone stepped in and made him a better offer. I’ve taken quite a loss, and I’m going to make him sorry.’
‘No, I won’t let you.’
‘You couldn’t stop me. Look.’
He took out a photograph and thrust it into her hand. Looking at it, Sally felt all her nightmares come true.
There in the picture was Gina, her arms around a young man who was also embracing her. But it was the man’s face that devastated her.
It was Pietro’s face. Even given the difference in ages the likeness was so great that she could
no longer doubt this was the boy’s father. Her last hope died.
‘With that picture I have all the proof I need,’ he said. ‘I’m looking forward to showing it to him.’
Her answer was to tear the picture into little scraps.
‘Now where’s your proof?’ she snapped.
‘You don’t think I was stupid enough to bring only one? I’ve got another. And it’s too late for you to stop me. Look behind you.’
She did so and saw something that horrified her.
Damiano was standing there, and from his stony look she could tell that he’d heard every word.
‘Show me the other picture,’ he said in a voice of ice.
With a cynical expression the man drew out the copy and thrust it at Damiano.
Watching Damiano’s face as he studied the picture, Sally wished she could fade away to nothing. He had no choice but to admit the truth.
‘Look at my brother,’ the man sneered. ‘He’s got the same face you see on that boy. Now what are you going to do?’
‘Nothing,’ Damiano said. ‘If you were hoping to give me a shock you’re going to be disappointed. This is no surprise to me. Now get out.’
‘You think you’ve won, don’t you?’ the man sneered. ‘But the truth is still the truth and it’ll always be there.’ He raised his voice. ‘You’re not that boy’s father. You never were and you never will be. And you’ll always have to live with it.’
‘Get out of here,’ Damiano said in a voice of ominous quiet, ‘before I make you sorry you were born.’
The man fled. Damiano went to sit on the stone bench, dropping his head into his hands. Sally went to sit beside him and put her arms around him.
‘I’m sorry,’ she whispered. ‘I’m so sorry. I wish there was something I could do to take this pain away from you. You said it came as no surprise to you, but I can’t believe you actually knew.’
He raised his head to look at her.
‘No, I didn’t know, but I’d suspected. Gina became pregnant so quickly after her return that I was bound to wonder.’
‘All these years—’
‘I refused to believe it because I didn’t want to. And it seemed cruel to suspect her when she was dead and couldn’t defend herself. Now I know and everything is different.’
Not Just a Convenient Marriage Page 16