by Jules Wake
And this grinning idiot had absolutely no comprehension of the cataclysmic, heart-in-mouth, effect his appearance must have had on Lisa.
Will closed his eyes, almost feeling her pain, but he had to ask.
‘Are you Lisa’s father?’
Vittorio laughed, well-defined eyebrows, like a pair of horizontal parentheses, dancing with animation. ‘Good lord, no. Is that what the little chick thinks? Now I see why she contacted me.’
Will’s fingers balled into fists under the table. The flood of relief rushing through him in a red-hot tide was completely at odds with the bone-crushing tension a second before.
‘Lisa’s mother was already pregnant by another man when I married her, even though she wasn’t showing. But I loved her. She was such a beautiful woman. However,’ he shrugged, inviting Will’s approval, ‘it turns out I’m not a marrying man.’
‘Or a father?’ Will’s jibe went straight over Vittorio’s head.
‘Eloise decided it was easier if everyone thought you were Richard’s child. And our affair … it,’ he clicked his fingers, ‘pfft.’
Will eyed him dispassionately, keeping the burning ball of fury tightly bound. Knowing his parents, he wasn’t even sure he was surprised. Had his father known he wasn’t his son? It would explain why Will could never please him. What had him clenching his jaw was the thought of Lisa. She must have seen Vittorio, taken one look and drawn the very worst conclusion. Where was she? She’d obviously fled in a panic. Had she gone to a hotel? Their flights weren’t until the day after tomorrow. Letting out a breath, he forced himself to relax. He’d send her a text to explain and everything would be alright.
‘Why did Lisa decide she wanted to meet me after all this time? Her mother has been dead for a long time.’ And then Vittorio nodded. ‘Ah, the delightful mother. My mother-in-law. She is dead?’ Will wanted to squirm in his chair. Didn’t the man have a single compassionate bone in his body?
‘No, she’s very much alive.’ Will wasn’t going to give this man the satisfaction of knowing that Lisa had wanted to bolster what little family she had in readiness for her grandmother’s death or that this man, or the myth of him, had been important to her. With a sudden fervour he prayed Nan would live well into her nineties and beyond.
‘You were around for the first few years of Lisa’s life? I guess she thought you might have some interest in her. We were in Rome for a holiday and she thought she’d look you up.’
He pulled the ring box out of his pocket, but kept it out of sight under the table. He hadn’t yet decided what to do with it.
‘I remember her. We Italians, we love children. She was a very good child. We called her the little chick because she hopped up and down like a chicken. Always happy, that one. Her mother was a very good mother. But you understand, it was a very long time ago. I was working hard as a jockey. There wasn’t much family time. And then I got a job at a racing-stable in the north of England, Wetherby. It was a good time to end things.
‘And how are your parents? Eloise still as beautiful? Remember me to her. How is she?’
‘She’s fine.’ Will leaned back and put his arm over the chair alongside him, forcing himself to be entertained by Vittorio rather than give in to the urge to punch his lights out. He was exactly the sort of person who would have fitted right in with his parents. Utterly feckless and totally self-centred. He should be used to this. With his parents he’d learned long ago there was no changing them. But, he suddenly realised their behaviour and attitudes didn’t have to define him. With a grim smile he thought of everything he’d done. No wonder his father, or not-his-father, had never thought anything was good enough. Will straightened. He was damn proud of what he’d achieved and he didn’t need to prove anything to anyone.
‘That was a good time. Sir Robert was a good employer and your parents were great fun. We went to some parties. And raced. It was my life. Now I don’t race. I work for the racecourse in Rome. You could come and visit? You and Lisa?’
‘I don’t know where Lisa is.’ Will pursed his lips, knowing it would be useless to say anything about Vittorio or Eloise and Richard’s thoughtlessness – he couldn’t use the word ‘parents’ any more, but worry burned a hole in his stomach. ‘I’m assuming she saw you and … it was a shock.’
Vittorio laughed. ‘A very big shock.’
Will leaned over the table and said with icy fury, ‘A terrible shock.’ Of course, Vittorio couldn’t possibly understand, the heartless … Will mentally used a word he never used.
He stood up, grabbing the ring box before it fell to the floor.
‘Lisa wanted to return this to you. Her mother had asked.’
Vittorio opened the box and his face sobered. For the first time, Will saw real emotion there, and to his surprise, Vittorio’s face crumpled. ‘My Nonna’s ring.’
Sadness transformed his face, as if a layer of tracing paper had been laid over it, distorting the previous expressive, carefree character. Will watched as his shoulders sagged, his whole attention focused on the ring.
‘The truth is, I really loved Lisa’s mother, Hattie.’ Vittorio spoke so quietly it was as if he were talking to himself. ‘I loved her very much. She was a golden girl. Always smiling. Always happy. Always saw the good in everyone, even Lady Mary.’
Lady Mary?
Vittorio tapped the box with a long slender finger, the exact twin of Will’s own index finger. It gave him a funny jolt. History was repeating itself. Lisa was his golden girl. Always happy. Always smiling. Even when she wasn’t smiling, her mouth had that cheerful upward curve.
‘I remember the day I gave her this ring. I knew she loved him more than me, but I gambled that I would be enough. And she said yes. I was very very happy.’ Vittorio looked wistful and a far cry from his laughing self a few moments earlier. ‘But it wasn’t enough. She didn’t love me as much. It was always him. I tried to persuade her to move away with me. Start again. When she died, I didn’t contact Lisa. I visited the stables a few times in the first couple of years after she died. Lisa looked very much like her mother. It was too painful.’
Will was confused. ‘Who did Hattie love?’ Who was Lisa’s father?
‘Her boss.’ Vittorio shook his head with a resigned frown. ‘My boss. Sir Robert. He’d have divorced Lady Mary and married Hattie if he could, but then Lady Mary had her accident. Hattie broke it off when she realised she was pregnant. Knew it wasn’t fair on Lady Mary, who would never have her own kids after her fall. That was the sort of person Hattie was.’
Will didn’t like to point out that having an affair with someone else’s husband wasn’t necessarily a good thing in the first place.
‘I think Lady Mary must have known the truth. She made Hattie’s life very difficult after that. Occasionally she’d have to pop up to the yard with Lisa but Lady Mary banned children. Said it was a health-and-safety issue, but everyone knew. She couldn’t bear the sight of Lisa.’ Vittorio’s face twisted with sudden grief. ‘And neither could I.’ His voice broke and he stared away into space.
Will could picture the portly racing-stable owner sitting at the bar in the pub. Without fail he popped in every Thursday, the night that someone went to sit with his wife. Lady Mary had broken her back in a riding accident over thirty years ago. With sudden insight, he understood the veneer of sadness that surrounded the older man. He’d lost a lot – as well as his wife.
Will flinched. Did his mother and Richard know any of this? Did Nan?
And Lisa, where was she now? She needed to know that Vittorio wasn’t her father. That he wasn’t her brother. He picked up his phone and texted her, leaving Vittorio lost in thought. Why wasn’t she answering? At least, wherever she was, she had her phone charger with her and once she’d charged her phone she’d get the message and contact him.
Chapter 28
‘A seat has become available on the flight to Leeds/Bradford Airport. That’s all I can offer you.’
Lisa had checked at the desk with
listless determination through three, then four, then five flights. She was beginning to despair she’d ever get home.
‘I’ll take it.’
‘Lucky, eh? The very last flight tonight.’
Lisa gave her a weak smile. Lucky was the last thing she felt. How unlucky did you have to be to go and fall in love with your own brother?
Handing over her credit card with shaky hands, she couldn’t even summon the energy to wince at the outrageous price. She didn’t care. She wanted to go home. Back to her own life – away from all this. Run away and keep running. Guilt pinged like a bell on a reception desk, pulling her back. What must Will be thinking? She should have left a note, but there were no words. And she couldn’t have faced him.
How could she have looked into his eyes and told him? She felt so fragile, it would have killed her. And how would that scene have played out, the two of them suddenly unable to touch each other, as if a glass screen had come down between them? It seemed impossible to take on board. What they’d shared was so wrong, when it had seemed so right. Cold shame washed over her. He was her brother. She tried to shut out the images of him holding her, kissing, touching. It was wrong. And so unfair.
Thank goodness no one else knew. And never needed to know. It would remain their horrible secret. She wanted to wind a clock back and not know herself. She wished she’d never set eyes on Vittorio Vettese. Was that very wicked?
With another hour and a half to kill before the flight she trailed, head down, one foot in front of the other, to the internet café at the other end of the terminal. Her phone might have been crap but it had been useful. It was going to take forever to collect all the numbers she needed on a new phone.
Lisa had intended to send a message to Siena via Skype, Just to let you know change of plan, you don’t need to pick me up. Have lost phone. Will be in touch soon, but Siena was on line and responded immediately.
Hey Lisa! That’s a pain. Have you got another lift?
Lisa could imagine Siena at home typing away with her usual princess Pollyanna perkiness. She could do with a bit of her perpetual sunshine right now. Her fingers hovered over the keyboard. Her emotions were too raw to even consider telling her the whole story, but suddenly she needed to talk to Siena.
On my way home. At airport now.
Why? Two days early! Did you and Giovanni fall out? The Italian Stallion not so stallion after all???
Lisa managed to summon up a weak smile. If only she knew. Next to Will, Giovanni was more of a show pony.
No. She paused, wanting to share, but not everything. Not Giovanni. He had to leave. His grandmother was ill. It’s a long story.
I knew it. It was just you and Will?
Lisa’s fingers hesitated, honesty fighting with circumspection and a tinge of shame. Will was her brother. Those kisses had to be forgotten. His touch. All buried. She couldn’t, and didn’t, want to blame Will or make it look as if they’d fallen out. That would be wrong. If she said it was complicated, Siena would want to solve things.
Before she could type anything, Siena had come back, her mind galloping ahead, gathering up the bare facts.
I knew there was something. You two watch each other all the time. That brother-and-sister bickering didn’t fool me. I think you two are made for each other.
A sob escaped. The screen blurred. That sick-in-the-stomach feeling hit again.
Will and I are friends, that’s all. We spent some time together and came to a truce. It almost killed her to type the next line. But I realised he’s not right for me.
Could she be friends with him? Oh God, they were family. Her body froze. Could she ever speak to him again? See him without wanting something that she could never have. Longing stabbed into her, blind and unthinking. When Nan died, he and Vittorio would be her entire living family.
No? I might be talking out of turn, but I think the two of you are perfect for each other. Sad face (can’t find emoticon thingy). Are you sure? I think he cares, but has been hiding behind all those girls.
Tears seeped down Lisa’s face as regret pulled at her.
Will see you when I get back.
You okay? Wish I was there with you. What aren’t you telling me? Are you sure you’re okay? Let me pick you up. What time does your flight get in?
Flight lands at 11.45 … but at Leeds/Bradford Airport. Only flight I could get. Don’t worry. Going to get a hotel tonight. Will tell you more when I get home.
Call me … get a phone sorted quick. Missing you. Big hugs. Love xx
Numbness pervaded every last bit of her. Her brain had all but shut down; now she no longer needed to think. Red-eyed, she handed her passport over, wondering if the UK official might refuse her entry. In her current state, she probably looked more vampire than human.
Before she knew it, she was through the nothing to declare and out into the unfamiliar building. Disorientated she looked around for signs to a taxi rank to take her to the nearest hotel.
At this time of night there were a few desultory souls waiting at the railings for arrivals, some with signs. Mr Smith. Good luck with that one. Mr Van Etterlink. Mr George Vassou. Miss Lisa Vettese.
She did a double-take. The large A3 piece of paper had her name written in huge capitals, almost shouting at her, as if someone really didn’t want her to miss it.
The woman holding the paper up, scanning people anxiously, had mid-brown hair cut in stylish layers and wore jeans with a bright lime-green cardigan and coordinating scarf. She looked chic and neat, making Lisa feel rather bedraggled. Who was she? And what was she doing here?
The easy tears that were constantly lying in wait seeped out. Siena must have sent her. No one else knew she was on this flight.
On wobbly colt-like legs, Lisa walked over to the sign.
‘Hi, I’m …’ she nodded at the sheet of paper.
‘Hi.’ The woman smiled cautiously at her. ‘I’m Laurie, Siena’s sister. She called and said you needed picking up.’
Lisa almost crumpled on the spot. Relief and gratitude intermingled with surprise.
‘Oh. I … er.’ She’d heard a lot about Laurie, but had never met her. She and Siena had been estranged for many years, through no fault of their own, and in the last few years had been working towards being sisters again.
Laurie folded away the paper into neat squares and tucked it into her bag. ‘Siena was worried about you landing alone this late and I live in York.’
Lisa’s geography was hazy, but she was pretty sure York wasn’t exactly next door. This was a big ask. Tears threatened again. Lovely Siena. What a friend.
‘That’s kind of you,’ stammered Lisa. ‘I … er.’
Laurie looked serious. ‘Siena wouldn’t have asked if it wasn’t important. She’s talked about you a lot.’ Her face lifted with a kind smile. ‘You helped her when she first came over. The first proper friend she’d ever had. It’s the least I can do for my little sister.’
‘I didn’t do that much. Siena’s so positive. She did a lot herself.’ They exchanged a look. Siena had arrived with no money and no friends. She’d built a life for herself, making the most of things without ever moaning or complaining.
‘You helped. We thought you could come back to Merryview with me tonight and then I can put you on a train tomorrow. Much nicer than a strange hotel.’
‘That would be … b-be lovely.’ Her voice broke. She was in danger of breaking down completely and sobbing, which wouldn’t do at all. She straightened, the muscles in her shoulder so tight they protested. ‘Thank you. I … that’s kind. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate it.’
What had Siena said to her? Laurie seemed much more reserved than her sister, but exuded gentle understanding. The type to wait for information being volunteered rather than asking lots of questions. At this present moment, the perfect companion.
With quiet, calm efficiency she steered Lisa out to the car park and into the car.
‘Don’t worry if you want to sleep. It’ll tak
e us about an hour to get home. I bet you’re shattered. I always find travelling takes it out of you, even if you’re just sitting on a plane.’
Lisa loved her for not saying the obvious: when you’re travelling and having an emotional meltdown.
Being in the car in the dark was rather like being a cocoon, easier to switch off and step back from reality. It had been good of Laurie to come all this way. An hour here and another back, for someone she didn’t know. Lisa knew she ought to make the effort to appear normal.
‘Siena says you’re getting married.’
Laurie nodded vigorously. ‘Yes and even though it’s a small wedding, there seems a lot to do.’ She gave a quick laugh. ‘I don’t know why I thought the end of the summer would be a good idea. Cam didn’t want to wait.’ The latter was stated with happy pride. ‘Which would have been fine but we never expected to have quite this many guests in our first season. And I’m studying for a qualification in wine. It’s manic. Not that I’m complaining.’
‘Siena told me you’d opened a boutique hotel. It’s going well, then?’
‘Yes. It was a big gamble, as neither of us have ever done anything like it before. Bit of a steep learning curve. I inherited the house from my uncle and it’s way too big for me and Cam to rattle around in. It also came with a fabulous wine cellar and Uncle Miles’s collection of vintage cars. The idea is to offer leisure breaks – that’s the official terminology, apparently, to people who are interested in one or the other, or both. Our plan originally was to find a way of sharing the house and the cars, but it’s kind of taken over. I run wine-tastings and Cam takes people out in the cars. We had no idea that it would take off the way it has. Word of mouth, mainly.’
‘Hard work,’ said Lisa, thinking of the pub, which had thrived thanks as much to word of mouth as Will’s long hours and dedication.
‘Yes. But I’m enjoying it.’ Laurie shook her head. ‘I used to work in a library, so it’s quite different.’
‘Noisier, I would image.’
Laurie laughed. ‘You’re not kidding, although I miss some of the regulars. What do you do?’