One-man Woman

by Jessica Ayre

  Daniela led her through back streets to what seemed from the pavement an unpretentious trattoria. The white-shirted waiter welcomed her by name and ushered them to a back room where green-chequered tablecloths covered large and small tables, most of them filled with men in business suits. Small bunches of brightly yellow daffodils graced the tables, giving the room a jolly air.

  'Now is my chance to fatten you up a little,' said Daniela playfully as she looked at the menu. 'You must let me order for you. First a pasta—tortelloni alla crema, you rarely get that here in London; and then some scallopini, yes?'

  Jennie nodded.

  'And a little white wine to celebrate our successful shopping, si? With some aqua minerale to sober us up for work. Good.' Daniela ordered quickly in Italian and the food arrived almost instantly. Jennie tucked into her tortelloni with gusto. The small spinach-filled morsels in a delicate cream sauce were delicious.

  Daniela watched her. 'I was right? It is good, isn't it?' Jennie smiled her appreciation. Daniela, she noticed, was only picking at her melon.

  'Isn't yours good?' she queried.

  Daniela grimaced, 'Unlike you, my Jennie, I must watch my figure. These curves, they must not grow too large.'

  Jennie protested, but the actress cut her off. Taking a sip of her wine, she turned the full glow of her grey-green eyes on Jennie and asked abruptly, 'Tell me, Jennie, have you any men friends?'

  Jennie felt the pasta in her mouth turning to a gluey mass as she tried to swallow. She focussed her eyes on her plate away from Daniela's scrutiny. 'Not at the moment,' she managed casually enough.

  Daniela's scrutiny continued, 'But you have had friends, I mean lovers, in the past. Si?'

  Jennie began to feel indignant. Daniela had no right to intrude herself in this way. She raised her eyes from her plate and looked at the actress coolly. 'That is surely none of your concern.'

  The edge of formality in Jennie's voice made Daniela smile, 'No, you are right, that is none of my concern.' She placed a piece of melon in her mouth reflectively. 'Perhaps a sad love affair. You do not wish to speak of it?'

  Jennie shrugged and forced herself to swallow what was now tasteless food.

  'Yes, I understand, it is painful.'

  The two women ate in silence for a short time. Then when the waiter came to clear their plates, Daniela caught Jennie's eye and held it.

  'You know. I think Derek is interested in you.'

  Jennie felt the blood draining from her face. So that was what Daniela had been leading up to! She wouldn't give her the satisfaction of knowledge.

  'In me?' Jennie asked, looking startled. She put on her most ingenuous air.

  Daniela chuckled, 'You mean you haven't noticed?'

  Jennie gazed at her with wide-eyed innocence, secretly surprised at the acting talents which had suddenly surfaced in her.

  As the waiter served them with two plates of lemon-scented veal, Daniela laughed outright.

  'Derek would be mortified if he suspected you hadn't noticed!'

  Jennie dug into her veal and zucchini with new-found relish. 'This is delicious,' she offered.

  'Yes, the food here is very good,' Daniela replied, but she was not altogether ready to drop the subject of Derek. 'Tell me, Jennie, how is it that Derek knew about your painting and I did not?'

  A variety of half-lies suggested themselves to Jennie, but she decided on a non-committal shrug. 'Perhaps someone in the studio mentioned it to him.'

  'Yes, perhaps,' Daniela reflected. 'Yes, he is so curious, he always seems to find out everything.'

  Jennie thought the subject had now been put to rest, but after a few moments Daniela began again.

  'You know, Jennie, Derek is a powerful man—a most powerful man. And if, as I suspect, he is interested in you, you will notice it sooner or later, and then presto,' she snapped her fingers dramatically, 'if you are not strong, he will take you over. But not for long, no. He will grow tired, grow interested in someone else. And you will suffer, mamma mia, you will suffer. But worse, because he is so powerful, you will find you are unfit for other men.' Daniela shook her head sadly, and then looked up, bright-eyed, a tremulous smile on her lips. 'Basta. I am taking this little scenario a little too far. Let us talk of other things.'

  She pushed her plate away a little and reaching for her bag took out a packet of cigarettes. She offered one to Jennie, who accepted. Smoking was not something she did often, but now she felt a cigarette between her fingers would give her strength to face any other conversational surprises Daniela might have in store.

  Daniela lit their cigarettes with a slender gold lighter and took a long puff. 'Some coffee, my Jennie. Oh no, first a sweet for you, a flan or some cassata.'

  Jennie demurred, 'Coffee is all I want. A cappuccino, if they have one.'

  Daniela signalled to the waiter and then looked closely at Jennie again. 'I hope you are not angry with me, Jennie. You know, I always speak my mind. Perhaps a little too clearly.'

  Jennie avoided her eyes, but shook her head.

  'I would like us to be friends, but you must learn to live with my impetuous mouth.' Daniela chuckled, her good humour seemingly restored. 'Now, you know who would be a fine match for you? Piero Sraffa. So handsome, with those wonderful black slanting eyes, and also, I discovered today, far from stupid. Even intelligent.'

  Jennie felt herself prickle. 'You should know, Daniela, that I'm perfectly happy without a man in my life. I have far too much to fill it as it is. I'm not so interested in them as you seem to be.'

  'Bravo, Jennie! You are right to be angry. I am an interfering woman,' she smiled wryly, 'like my own mamma. And it is my fate. I need men, so I imagine every woman does.' She grimaced as if examining her own foibles, and then laughed richly, 'I am a fool. But come, we must get back to work or that Matthew will be angry with me too. We will take a taxi.'

  As Daniela paid the bill and instructed the waiter to order a taxi for them, Jennie examined her discreetly. She didn't know what to make of Daniela—on the one hand, she resented her insinuations, her interference, and fundamentally disliked her sudden flares of temper; on the other, she was drawn by her warm generosity. She pushed her suspicions out of her mind. After all, whatever her motives, Daniela was worldly-wise enough to be right about Derek, that was certain. Jennie shrugged and put all thought of him well out of reach.

  The two women bundled their parcels into the taxi which awaited them at the kerb and relaxed into the seats.

  'Much as I love your London taxis, my Jennie, I shall be supremely happy to be back in Italy. And the Sicilian sun… it will be marvellous!'

  Jennie echoed Daniela's enthusiasm and as the car pulled up at the studios, she thanked her profusely for the shopping expedition, the lovely present, the lunch, everything.

  'I enjoyed it too,' Daniela assured her. 'And it is my way of thanking you for all the hard work you have done on me. And now you must do some more. Poor Jennie, and I shall grow angry as I turn into an old hag under your skilful hands.'

  Jennie laughed as the taxi driver gave Daniela an enraptured look. Some old hag!

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Jennie clenched her teeth and tried to pretend her stomach hadn't suddenly plunged down to her knees as the plane made its way through turbulent skies over northern Italy. Piero Sraffa gave her a sympathetic smile and handed her a cigarette.

  'It should help,' he said, lighting her cigarette and taking a deep puff of his own.

  Jennie noticed the elegance of his long slender hands and wondered again whether Daniela had been instrumental in seating them together. When she had boarded the plane earlier that morning, she had found Piero in the window seat next to hers. Hearing that it was her first time aboard a plane, he had gallantly offered her his place, and she had accepted, eager to see the sights from this unknown height. A little after take-off Daniela had come wandering out of the first class compartment at the front of the plane, said hello, and given Jennie a quick covert wink before saunte
ring off.

  Jennie shrugged off the thought of any possible manipulation and returned her attention to Piero. Whatever the case, he had proved an excellent companion, assuaging her visible fear of the plane's motion with humorous anecdotes, plying her with drink so that she was now quite lightheaded. His careful English was word-perfect, even in intonation—quite unlike Daniela's occasional rhythmic flights.

  Jennie smiled in delight as the dense cloud beneath them cleared to exhibit the snow-capped Alps.

  'Better?' Piero's mellow baritone intruded on her thoughts.

  She nodded and took a last long sip of her gin and tonic.

  'Shall I get you another?'

  'No,' Jennie found herself giggling. 'By the time we land, I won't be able to walk in a straight line!'

  'No one here will be in a state to notice,' he laughed, gesturing towards the empty glasses on all the trays in seeing distance. He buzzed for the stewardess and ordered another round of drinks. 'In any case, you can sleep it off this afternoon. I should think everyone will be tumbling into bed for a siesta.'

  'What luxury!' Jennie breathed. She suddenly felt elated, as if each successive mile that separated her from England lifted another anxiety from her shoulders. 'It's too good to be true—planes, hotels,' she let her eyes rove over Piero's face, 'handsome men, siestas.' She crossed one long white-clad leg over another and looked at him with just a hint of flirtation in her smile.

  His dark heavily-lashed eyes flashed merrily at her. 'You sound like a little girl setting off for her first and most wonderful adventure!'

  Jennie chuckled, 'If I'm honest with myself, that's exactly how I feel.'

  'Well, you shall have to let me help you make it special. There's no doubt that Sicily is an adventure, but whether it's always wonderful…' His handsome face suddenly looked concerned. 'You know, when Sicily became part of Italy, the Sicilians had a rather bitter joke about it. They said the Italian boot was giving the island an almighty kick, and I'm afraid they were right. We northerners had no idea then, and it's not all that much better now, of the conditions people on the island lived in. We imposed taxes on tiny peasant holdings which produced barely enough for families to live on. The Sicilians rose up against us, and in 1866 we sent forty thousand troops to quell a rebellion.' He shook his head sadly. 'And all the subsequent misunderstanding only helped to kindle separatist feelings and entrench the Mafia. You'll see, they don't like us… and with justification. They're fiercely independent. But I'm being lugubrious,' he flashed a startlingly white smile at her. 'And you want a wonderful Sicilian adventure.'

  'Oh no, do please go on. I'm so amazingly ignorant.'

  He looked at her seriously for a moment and then shook his head. 'No, now you must look out of the window or you'll miss the sight of the boot kicking Sicily,' Piero chuckled, his eyes warm as they took in her face.

  Jennie turned away from him and stared out of the window. She could feel his eyes still on her, but somehow they didn't make her uncomfortable. She decided she liked Piero. There was a straightforwardness about him, a naturalness which she hadn't expected in a man of such elegant good looks and such evident sophistication. She smiled to herself. The world was full of surprises today, not least that of the astounding landscape beneath her.

  The blue sea looked motionless from this height, and as the plane descended, toy-like slopes and white play houses seemed to rise out of a midday haze. Then something made Jennie catch her breath and she tugged at Piero's sleeve. He edged his head in beside hers to look out the window. There, slightly to one side of the plane, a small puff of dark smoke emerged out of a charred crater—a black pit in the belly of which something obscure boiled and rumbled.

  'Etna,' Piero told her, and then added mysteriously, 'Vulcan's forge: when he walks, the earth trembles; when he coughs, volcanoes erupt. Abode too of Vulcan's one-eyed helpers, the hideous Cyclops. So beware,' Piero teased, 'if you meet any ill-mannered giants on this island. They're wont to devour strange young ladies!'

  Jennie was too rapt by the sight to respond. Around the central crater, she noticed there were hundreds of smaller holes in the earth's crust, all of which seemed to be alive, bubbling away. She shivered. There was something menacing in the atmosphere, the walls of black lava blocks which she could now see, the black terraced soil. As the plane moved away from Etna to reveal pasture land and then lush vineyards and orchards, Jennie breathed a sigh of relief. Then she bent to take her pad out of her large bag and made a hasty sketch of what the crater and its smaller sisters had looked like from the sky. As she finished, she grew aware of Piero's nearness, his eyes on her pad. She drew away.

  He looked at her from the deep recesses of his eyes. 'I'm sorry if I disturbed you. It's a good sketch.'

  She thanked him, aware of his sincerity, and then as the stewardess's voice came over the speaker announcing their landing, she tucked the pad back into her bag and clenched the arms of her seat tightly.

  'It will all be over quickly,' Piero murmured gently, noticing her fear. 'Just keep swallowing.'

  Jennie felt her stomach lurch, saw the ground coming towards her, felt a bump and then heard what seemed to be engines revving loudly.

  'He's braking,' Piero explained. 'We're here.'

  Jennie felt a thrill pass through her as they emerged from the plane into the clear noon sunlight. As warm air enveloped her, she was grateful for her white trousers, grateful too for the sunglasses she had purchased at the airport at the last minute. She followed Piero through the formalities of Immigration and into the baggage room crowded with people all of whom seemed to be licking ice-cream. The room exploded with noise, but the sounds she could make out were quite unlike Italian, full of low guttural inflections.

  'Sicilians are amazing,' Piero exclaimed. 'Whole families will travel for miles to see a relative off or welcome someone. And the dialect!' He groaned. 'I'm lucky if I can make it out.'

  He took her bag for her and they walked out to the arrival hall where they were to meet the others before boarding a bus which would take them to their hotel. Lounging casually by a newspaper kiosk, Jennie noticed a tall lithe form. She turned her eyes away hurriedly, but it was too late. Derek was walking towards them, his long muscular legs encased in gleaming white trousers, his bare brown arms swinging loosely at his side. 'Hello, Piero,' he shook his hand. 'Hello, Jennie.'

  She raised her eyes to meet his and was momentarily shocked by their forgotten blueness, even deeper now that his skin and hair had taken on an added bronze glow. He held her eyes for a moment, then bent to kiss her lightly on the cheek. As he moved away, he whispered lightly, out of Piero's hearing, 'Done any good nudes lately?' His tone was sardonic and she felt herself flush.

  'Only as many as could fill a week,' she muttered beneath her breath.

  He darted a glance at her, but before he could say anything Daniela was upon them with Matthew in tow. She embraced Derek warmly, kissing him on both cheeks. Then she wound her arm through his. 'Well, shall we go? I hope you've brought a car for us. I don't think I could face a beastly Sicilian bus.'

  Derek laughed, 'Anything for la signora Colombi and Signor Tarn. There's room for you two as well,' he said, turning to Jennie and Piero, 'I thought Daniela might have brought a lot more luggage than I can see.'

  'I have learned to travel light now,' Daniela retorted, looking dramatically insulted, 'but do join us.'

  Watching her, Jennie suddenly took hold of Piero's arm and Daniela threw her a wicked smile. 'Come, my children. Derek will drive us through the wonders of Sicily.'

  Derek led them towards a large silver open-top Fiat parked randomly in front of the airport building. They piled into the car, Daniela in front with Derek, muttering that she was undoubtedly taking her life in her hands now that she was on an Italian road again; the three of them tucked closely together in the back seat, a suitcase balanced on their laps.

  Jennie could feel her excitement mounting by the second as Derek drove the car swiftly, smoothly, o
ver the motorway, its lanes divided by the lush pinks and reds of an oleander hedge. Everything—stones, trees, houses, even the traffic they encountered after they had skirted Palermo and found themselves in an industrial suburb— seemed to be etched in a crystal clarity Jennie had never before experienced. She felt as if her eyes, her senses were alive for the first time. When the car wound its way along a road banked by lemon groves, she let out an audible gasp.

  'Are you all right?' Piero looked at her in concern.

  She nodded. 'It's just—oh, all this beauty. I know it sounds ridiculous, but it's as if a film had lifted from my eyes.'

  He squeezed her arm, then chuckled. 'That film is what we Italians so love about England-mist, we call it. It smoothes the edges of Mediterranean hardness.'

  Jennie suddenly caught Derek's glance in the rear view mirror. He seemed to be glaring at her and automatically she moved away from Piero, then stopped herself. She wouldn't let Derek make her uncomfortable now. Her gaze moved again over the citrus groves and all at once encountered what she had quite unconsciously been looking for: a glistening expanse of blue stretching into the horizon—the sea. Another gasp involuntarily escaped her.

  Piero laughed, 'If you keep this up. I won't want to see anything with anyone but you! It makes me happy just to take in your pleasure.'

  Jennie smiled, pushing fingers through her windswept hair. 'I think it must be all the drink you plied me with on the plane.'

  He gave her a warm look. 'We're almost there. The hotel we're all booked into is just outside Cefalu. After lunch and the necessary siestas, I'll show you round. Quite selfishly—so that I can watch your face,' he added, chuckling.

  The car pulled up in front of a large modern hotel tucked between hills and overlooking the sea. Matthew was first out and gallantly lifted the case off Jennie's lap before opening the door for Daniela. A dark, quick-eyed porter came and helped them with their bags. At reception, they gave their names and were handed keys by a comfortable-looking woman of middle years.