TB B

by SJ

  As Giovanni drove them out of the city later, Maria glanced briefly across at her son, her heart swelling with pride, as usual. He was so like his father, she thought for the hundredth time…not only handsome, but kind, thoughtful and diligent. He had accepted his responsibilities so young, and with not a single grumble, had been too hardworking, of course, handling that dreadful company matter-which Maria did not want to think about-with such adroitness, such natural skill. Her mouth tightened slightly. It had been good to see him with the Englishwoman today…Maria had begun to despair of him ever showing that kind of interest in a female again. And she had to admit that there was something about Emily that was particularly endearing—even to her. She gazed out of the window for a moment and cleared her throat.

  ‘I think I can understand why you like this…Emily…’ she began tentatively, trying to find the right words. Well, he would be expecting her to pass some opinion, but the past had taught Maria to be cautious. She would never make the same mistake again.

  ‘It would be hard for anyone not to like Emily,’ he replied casually, not taking his eyes from the road. His lip curled slightly. ‘The sad fact is that it’s harder to get her to like me. That’s the problem.’

  Maria was aghast! ‘Why? What are you saying…What is it?’ she demanded.

  ‘I wish I knew,’ Giovanni replied soberly. Then, after a second, he added, ‘She is…warm, yes, but…not close. It is so strange.’ He hesitated. ‘I have no experience with that kind of woman.’

  Maria would have none of it. ‘She does like you, Giovanni, there is no doubt about that! I could tell straight away! I assure you that…’

  ‘Yes, I think she does, Mamma,’ he interrupted, ‘but not in the way that I would…wish.’

  Then neither of them spoke for a few moments after that, Giovanni admitting to still feeling shattered that Emily hadn’t told him she was going to be in Rome, while Maria was quietly seething inside. How any woman could hold her son at arm’s length was beyond belief—and she knew what he was getting at all right! She was Italian too, was she not, with the same passionate blood in her veins…had been loved by her husband in the way that only Italians could love! Still, she decided to say no more. She had said too much before—and look what had happened.

  Presently, she said, ‘Will you be seeing her again soon, carissimo?’

  Giovanni shrugged. ‘I don’t know…Of course, I can find excuses to visit the London office, and I will try to see her then, but my duties recommence here again soon and I must say that I’m looking forward to it, Mamma. The idea of six months off was pleasant, but…’

  ‘Was necessary,’ Maria said firmly.

  ‘OK. But I want to get back in harness now, as soon as possible. You’ve been holding the fort for too long.’

  Maria smiled. ‘With help from others, of course,’ she said. ‘And our profits are holding up well, carissimo. Have no fear about that.’

  Emily had booked an early flight for the following morning, and it was with some relief that she boarded the aircraft. Yesterday had been a day to remember, she thought—and not for particularly good reasons. Coming across that accident had sobered her more than she cared to admit, and meeting Maria Boselli in Giovanni’s flat had been a totally unexpected incident. Maria had been kind enough—in a sort of way, Emily thought—but there was something going on behind those shrewd, dark eyes that had made the girl feel slightly uncomfortable. She shrugged inwardly. Maria was the archetypal possessive Italian mother. Emily had heard the two of them speaking in low tones while she’d been tidying herself up—and she couldn’t help feeling that she was being discussed…She’d heard Giovanni’s voice raised slightly now and again, as if they were arguing about something.

  Now, staring out of the window as the aeroplane left the ground, Emily remembered the last thing which had been said, as they’d made their goodbyes yesterday, and she smiled faintly to herself.

  ‘Next time you’re in Italy, you must visit us, Emily,’ Maria had said in a tone which implied a directive rather than an invitation. ‘La Campagna is the place to be at this time of the year…Giovanni will bring you.’

  And Emily had accepted the suggestion graciously, while thinking there was more chance of being flown to the moon than of her visiting the Boselli family home. She was not going to get involved any more with Giovanni…Deep down, all her instincts told her to get out now, while there was still time.

  Emily decided to prepare a special supper for herself and Coral on Friday evening. They’d not seen much of each other recently—with Nico being there, and then with Emily having to go away again so soon. It would be good to have a catch-up, she thought now.

  Coral arrived home earlier than usual and, when she heard their front door close, Emily called from the kitchen, ‘Hi, Coral…dinner’s in forty minutes—you’ve time for a shower.’

  Coral came and stood by the door, leaning against it for a moment as she watched Emily prepare the sea bass. Emily looked across, smiling.

  ‘It’s good to be home,’ she commented, reaching for the black pepper. ‘I hope they don’t send me anywhere for a week or two—anyway, I’ve had enough of Rome for the moment,’ she added.

  ‘I’m sure you have, and you must tell me all about it,’ Coral said, and there was something in her voice that made Emily look up quickly. ‘I will have that shower,’ Coral went on, ‘but first, I could do with a drink.’ She yawned. ‘Do you want one? I’ll open one of the bottles of red we brought back with us from Italy.’

  ‘OK, fine,’ Emily said as she started slicing some tomatoes for the salad. ‘You sound tired, Coral—hectic at work?’

  ‘No, actually, it’s dead quiet at the moment and we’re all bored out of our minds.’ She paused. ‘A flat day can seem twice as long as usual—but you wouldn’t know anything about that.’

  Presently, after they’d finished their supper—which Coral was very complimentary about—the two girls sat, elbows on the table in the window, drinking their coffee. Emily glanced at Coral briefly. She didn’t really want to mention Nico’s name at all, but it seemed odd not to say something about him—after all, he had occupied their flat for a week.

  ‘Has Nico been in touch?’ she asked casually. ‘I hope he enjoyed himself as much as he thought he would—you certainly showed him all the sights while he was here.’

  ‘Oh, yes, he’s phoned a couple of times,’ Coral said casually.

  ‘And…um…have you made plans for him to come back at some point?’ Emily went on, thinking that Coral wasn’t being particularly talkative—she’d have expected her sometimes excitable friend to reveal all the details without this sort of prompting.

  ‘No…well, we’ll have to see,’ Coral said. She drank some coffee. ‘It was just one of those things…you know, with Nico…he’s a nice enough bloke but…Italians are different, aren’t they…I mean, they seem so…I would never be sure…’ Her voice trailed off. So, Emily thought, it had taken a week of being full-on with Nico to make Coral have second thoughts. Poor Coral—any hopes she might have had for a whirlwind affair—and possibly even something more—with a seductive Italian had somehow turned out to be disappointingly not the case. And it was clearly the reason for the girl’s rather melancholy spirit this evening. Involuntarily, Emily reached over and squeezed Coral’s hand for a second.

  ‘I totally agree with you about the Latin male,’ she said. ‘They’re a race apart in the emotional stakes and I, personally, would think more than twice about getting involved with one of them.’

  Coral raised her eyes briefly. ‘What—not even with the gorgeous Giovanni?’ she said. ‘He certainly only had eyes for you when we were in Rome, and you’ve said he’s been on the phone since…’

  Emily bit her lip, looking away quickly. ‘No, not even with him, Coral,’ she said.

  ‘Did you see him this week while you were over there?’

  Emily hesitated. She’d intended not to say a word about any of it, but so much had happene
d that she couldn’t be that evasive—not with Coral. They usually confided in each other.

  ‘Well, now you mention it, I did see him,’ she said. ‘He didn’t even know I was going to be in Italy because I decided not to tell him, but then, out of the blue…suddenly there he was.’ She went on to describe everything about the accident and going back to Giovanni’s flat and meeting his mother.

  ‘And I think my summer dress is probably ruined,’ she added. ‘Even if I manage to remove all the stains, I’ll never feel the same about it again.’

  She paused for a second, deciding not to mention the woman in the photograph, or the negligee she’d seen in Giovanni’s en suite bathroom. There was no need to go into all that because it didn’t matter now. It was irrelevant.

  Coral blew through her teeth, suitably impressed at what Emily had just told her. That’s unbelievable, Ellie,’ she said. ‘It’s as if you’re a magnet to the man. He seems to know exactly where to find you.’

  ‘Well, somehow I’ve got to persuade him that I don’t appreciate his company,’ Emily said flatly. ‘It’s not as if he’s ever likely to be short of female company. I won’t exactly be depriving him, will I?’

  ‘Hardly,’ Coral said. ‘He has to be the most mind-numbingly handsome man on the planet.’ She shot a brief glance at Emily. ‘He even beats Nico in that department.’

  ‘Oh, they’re all the same,’ Emily said a trifle scathingly. ‘So good-looking it’s abnormal. And they think all women are ready to fall at their feet.’

  ‘Well, then, here are two who are definitely not!’ Coral said, her cheeks flushed from too much wine. She raised her glass. ‘Here’s to us, Ellie—and the blessed joys of a single life!’

  Emily got up to make some more coffee just as her mobile rang. She glanced back at Coral. ‘Phone’s there behind you on the windowsill, Coral,’ she said. ‘Answer it, will you?’

  Coral did as she was asked and in a second she stood up, following Emily into the kitchen, her eyes bright. ‘It’s him—Giovanni,’ she whispered. ‘Shall I say you’re not here?’

  Reluctantly, Emily shook her head briefly, taking the phone from Coral. ‘Hi…Gio…’ she began, then her expression changed as she listened for a few moments.

  ‘OK—yes, of course…no, I’ll be here all weekend…Of course I will, Giovanni.’

  She snapped the phone shut and looked across at Coral, who was staring at her open-mouthed. ‘You’re going to see him—after all we’ve just been saying,’ Coral accused. ‘The man has got you in his clutches, Ellie, and there’s nothing you can do about it.’

  ‘You wait and see,’ Emily said shortly. ‘But, for the moment, what I can do is offer him some support.’

  ‘Why—what’s going on?’ Coral demanded.

  ‘He’s going to be in London mid-morning tomorrow—his best friend was taken dangerously ill yesterday, and is in hospital on a life-support machine.’ She paused. ‘Giovanni’s asked me to meet him…to go with him to the hospital, and I couldn’t refuse, could I? He sounded terrible!’ She shrugged helplessly. Giovanni had seemed so upset, so unlike his normal confident self, it had almost unnerved her. It was obvious that he needed her—needed her badly—and she’d be there for him, of course she would. She’d do the same for anyone.

  CHAPTER NINE

  LATE the following afternoon they left the hospital, and Giovanni held Emily’s hand tightly as they waited to cross the busy road. Glancing up at him briefly, she could see how shocked he still was.

  ‘How long did you say you’ve known Rupert?’ she asked matter-of-factly, thinking that Giovanni wouldn’t want to talk about anything else at the moment. ‘You said you met up at university…?’

  ‘Before that,’ he said shortly. ‘We were at boarding school together—aged thirteen. So we go back more than twenty years.’ He shook his head briefly. ‘It was terrible to see him lying there like that, Emily…His parents are absolutely distraught. They haven’t left his side, of course.’ He looked down at her. ‘I felt very touched—honoured, in a way—that I’m the only one, apparently, apart from his parents, who’s allowed to see him. For now, of course,’ he added hurriedly. ‘As soon as he’s better, he’ll obviously be allowed lots of visitors.’

  Emily didn’t look at Giovanni as he spoke. They both knew that he was being deliberately optimistic that his friend might recover—from the little she knew, it was probably less than a fifty-fifty chance. And she had been more than happy to keep out of the way downstairs in the restaurant while Giovanni had been at Rupert’s bedside.

  ‘Well, you are obviously someone very special,’ she began lightly.

  He cut in, ‘I think I’ve probably known him the longest, out of our crowd,’ he said. ‘Wherever we’ve been over the years, we’ve always kept in touch…I’ve stayed with him and his family in England many times, and he pops over to our place in Italy whenever he feels like it. My mother is very fond of him,’ he added.

  ‘Have the doctors been forthcoming about Rupert’s condition…? Have they offered any prognosis?’ Emily asked as they walked slowly along in the late afternoon sunshine, and he shook his head briefly.

  ‘For a man of his age to collapse so suddenly like that—so dramatically—is not, apparently, unknown,’ Giovanni said. ‘One good thing—his heart is still strong—so it’s to do with his brain, I believe…’ Giovanni stopped for a moment, unable to go on. Then, ‘He hasn’t regained consciousness yet.’ He paused, moving to one side of the pavement to let a woman and two young children go past them, before taking Emily’s hand again. ‘They’re not sure how deep the coma is yet.’ He bit his lip. ‘It must be hell for his parents—Rupert’s their only child. I tried to say the right things, you know, to offer a crumb of comfort—but what do I know?’

  Emily squeezed his hand tightly, looking up at him. ‘Whatever you said, Giovanni, I’m sure it was just the right thing,’ she murmured.

  ‘Well, it was little enough, goodness only knows,’ he said. ‘But they did seem pleased to see me—his mother hugged me so hard I didn’t think she was ever going to let me go.’

  ‘Then that says it all,’ Emily said quickly. ‘Just being there with them was enough.’ She hesitated. ‘What happens now? Must you go straight back to Italy?’

  ‘No—the stuff I was going to do at home can wait. I told Rupert’s parents I’ll be staying in England until his condition stabilizes, and the situation is clearer.’

  Giovanni looked down at her suddenly, loving the feel of her fingers entwined in his, gaining strength from her closeness. Why had Emily been the first—the only—one he’d thought to ring with the bad news? He could have got in touch with any of his and Rupert’s friends, but it hadn’t occurred to him to do that. There was something about Emily that seemed to warm him right through…He’d felt it from the moment he’d sold her that marmalade jar in Stefano’s shop, had seen how she’d reacted to the accident in Rome. Of course, she was an intensely desirable woman by anyone’s standards, but it went beyond that. He tried to pin down his thoughts about her, but couldn’t, and he breathed in deeply. At this moment he felt like sweeping her off her feet and carrying her into the park they were approaching and making love to her under the trees in broad daylight. Glancing down at her, he was deeply ashamed of his lustful thoughts—especially today of all days—but he was aware that times of shock, or fear, or sudden turbulence could unhinge the male psyche…The last twenty-four hours certainly seemed to have unhinged him, he thought.

  It was typical of Emily not to prattle on with unnecessary conversation, or to recite platitudes about Rupert’s present condition…She seemed perfectly content to stroll along without saying anything, or expecting him to fill the silence. He wished he had the courage to put his arm around her and draw her into him…but something told him not to do that. He frowned briefly. When she’d been in Rome and they’d been unexpectedly thrown together again during that accident, he’d felt a distinct change in their relationship which might have given
him some hope for the future. For a short time she had clung to him emotionally—and he’d revelled in her obvious need for him. But then, back at the flat a distinct change seemed to have taken place in her attitude. He shrugged inwardly. He didn’t understand this woman—and he doubted that he’d ever be given the time or opportunity to find out what made her tick.

  Bringing him abruptly out of his introspection, Emily suddenly said, ‘Where will you be staying while you’re here?’

  ‘Oh, I’ve booked in at my usual hotel,’ he said non-committally.

  Feeling slightly awkward that he might feel he had to take her out somewhere this evening, Emily said, ‘I don’t imagine you’ve made any plans for tonight, Giovanni, but you’re welcome to come back home to our place for a meal. Only if you want to,’ she added hurriedly. ‘Coral will be delighted to see you again.’

  Giovanni hesitated. ‘Well, if you’re absolutely sure I won’t be in the way, Emily,’ he said, ‘it would be good to relax somewhere more like home this evening.’

  ‘Great,’ Emily said. ‘It’s Coral’s turn to do the food tonight, and she’s a good cook. I think lamb cutlets are on the menu.’ She glanced up at him quickly—the expression on his handsome features was unusually hard, the normally seductive eyes seemed to have become distant and solemn—not surprisingly, she thought. He’d been undeniably bowled over by the sight of his friend in that hospital bed—which was the only reason she’d invited him to come back with her to the flat, she told herself. It was nothing at all to do with wanting him to be there…Not after the discovery she’d made in that elegant bathroom of his!

  Neither of them seemed in a hurry to go back just yet, and presently they entered a small park and sat down on one of the unoccupied benches. As the day was beginning to draw to a close, most of the children had gone home but there were still one or two floating their boats on the pond, their parents casually reading the daily papers nearby. Giovanni stared at them pensively, his legs outstretched, his hands thrust into his pockets. He turned to glance at Emily.