‘Who was it?’ Luca asked.
Rosa grinned secretively. ‘Let me make a telephone call. Then I’ll show you.’
‘You have to tell us!’ Cosima exclaimed.
‘No, I want you to see for yourselves.’ She turned to her husband. ‘I’m sorry.’
Eugenio’s fears dissolved in the sweet light of her smile for only he knew how hard it was for Rosa to apologise.
Cosima gave Manfreda an affectionate hug. ‘Thank you,’ she whispered into the old woman’s ear.
‘Don’t thank me. This is what you deserve. It is time to open your heart to happiness.’
Alba and Fitz watched the sun descend into the sea. The land was bathed in a dusky purple light.
‘This is the best time of day,’ Alba said contentedly.
‘I don’t want it to end. I don’t want to return to my life. I want to stay here with you, pretending that it’s thirty years ago. That we’re young and in love.’
‘We’re not the same people we were.’
‘Do people change that much?’
‘Yes, life moulds us. Incantellaria has moulded me. I watched the arrogant girl in a mini skirt and clog boots sink with the Valentina.’
‘No, she’s still there inside you,’ said Fitz, grinning raffishly. ‘I can see her.’
‘Well, thankfully no one else can.’
‘Because they wouldn’t recognise her if she slapped them across the face. I recognise her because I love her.’
‘You’re an incurable romantic.’
‘You once told me that was my problem.’
‘You remember?’
‘Yes, you said that you didn’t believe in love or marriage.’
‘You see, people change.’
‘And I told you that when I fall in love, I lose my heart completely. Once gone, I can never get it back.’
‘Oh, Fitz.’ She took his hand. ‘Are you in love with a memory?’
‘I let you go. The stupidest thing I ever did in my life.’
‘Don’t worry, you’ve got Rosemary,’ she teased.
Alba felt a wave of exhilaration wash over her. Perhaps the girl in a mini skirt and clog boots really was still inside her. ‘Hey, Fitz. Why don’t we sneak up to the palazzo again, just the two of us?’
‘Why would you want to do that?’
‘Because I haven’t been up there since we broke in thirty years ago. I haven’t dared. But with you, I dare.’
He held out his hand to help her up. ‘Let’s go to the folly. No one will have to know. We can sneak in there together. Apparently, Romina hasn’t changed a single thing.’
‘She hasn’t,’ he replied. ‘I’ve seen it, and it’s exactly as it was when your mother combed her hair at the dressing-table.’
‘Oh Fitz, I’m trembling with nerves.’
‘Don’t be scared. We’re in this together. If it wasn’t for my stiffening joints I’d believe I was a young man again.’
‘You are a young man inside,’ she said. ‘I recognise him, because I loved him.’
‘Tell me you still do.’
‘If you remember, I also told you there are many ways of loving.’
‘So you still love me.’
She set off up the hill. ‘I still love you, Fitz,’ she shouted back.
He hurried after her. ‘And I love you for loving me still!’
Rosa parked the car a little way down the hill from the palazzo. They didn’t want Romina to find them sneaking around. Cosima took Luca’s hand and followed Rosa through the trees until, they reached the folly. It was dark. A misty moon rose slowly into the navy sky and the sparkling eyes of a thousand stars began their nocturnal vigil. The breeze rustled through the leaves and invisible crickets sang their habitual song in the undergrowth.
Rosa opened the door. Inside, the warm glow of candlelight illuminated the room. Rosa walked in. Eugenio, Luca and Cosima followed, craning their necks to see who was inside. There at the back window, smoking into the night air, stood a man. He was so thin his trousers hung off him, cinched at the waist by a belt, leaving his ankles exposed. He wore a white shirt and the little hair that he had was as white as goose down. The hand that held the cigarette was bony, covered in skin as diaphanous as moths’ wings, mottled pink and brown. The room was filled with the same sweet perfume that had clung to the mysterious scarf.
‘Nero?’ said Rosa softly. The old man turned. When he saw she wasn’t alone he seemed to shiver with pleasure.
‘So, we have company tonight,’ he said languidly. ‘Che bello!’
‘This is my husband, Eugenio, my cousin, Cosima, and her fiancé, Luca.’
‘Ah, Eugenio, I have heard only good things about you.’ Eugenio didn’t know what to say: he could never have imagined this. ‘And Luca, welcome.’ He settled his pale eyes on Cosima, devouring her features. ‘It’s a pleasure to meet you, Cosima. I can see the resemblance,’ he added, extending his hand. Cosima shook it. The skin was as cold and damp as a corpse. ‘But, you, Rosa, are the one who has inherited your grandmother’s face.’
‘You’re the Marchese’s adopted son?’ said Luca incredulously.
‘The very same. This was my special place. Ovidio loved this more than anywhere else in the world. When he died I let the palazzo go.’ He waved his hand, dismissive of his past. ‘I fell apart and the palazzo fell apart around me. But this, this I looked after, for Ovidio. And he’s still here. Can you feel him?’ Cosima looked around warily. ‘Well, sit down everyone. Let’s not stand on ceremony.’
He pulled out the chair in front of the dressing-table and Rosa threw herself on to the bed as if she owned it, patting the place beside her for Eugenio to join her. Luca and Cosima, uncomfortably aware that Nero had probably watched them making love, sat together on the floor.
‘You can imagine my delight when I first saw Rosa. I thought Valentina had risen from the dead. We’re friends, aren’t we, Rosa?’
‘Nero was so sad when I found him. He was like a lost dog, lingering over the body of his dead master. A pitiful sight.’
‘Where do you live?’ Cosima asked.
‘In a small house in the hills not far from here. I bought it with the last of Ovidio’s fortune when the palazzo became uninhabitable. I struggled to hold on to it, truly I did, but it was rotting around me. In the end I was forced to go. But like a homing pigeon I came back every day and watched it slowly sink into the garden. I left this folly as it was because everything in it was chosen specifically for here by Ovidio. These books, the statue, paintings, furniture, rugs, none of it has any value anywhere else but here, in Ovidio’s folly. So I left it like a shrine.’
‘Isn’t that romantic?’
‘You couldn’t count on my mother keeping it the way it was,’ said Luca.
‘No, I tried to frighten people away but I wasn’t a very convincing ghost!’
‘So, it was you who haunted the palazzo?’ said Eugenio.
‘I’ve wandered those corridors at night when everyone’s asleep.’ He clearly felt the palazzo still belonged to him. ‘I know every corner, every crevice.’
‘No wonder Ventura complains about ghosts,’ said Luca.
‘She need not be afraid. The only person this ghost has hurt is himself. So, it is your family who live here now?’
‘Yes,’ Luca replied.
‘I was lucky it fell into such sensitive hands. It was a gamble I had to take. I needed the money, so I had to sell.’
‘He likes what your mother’s done to the palazzo,’ said Rosa.
‘She thinks she’s captured the beauty of the original building,’ said Luca.
‘It’s not the same,’ Nero replied sharply. ‘It’s not at all like it was. I’ve got a book of old photographs to prove it. But,’ he conceded graciously, ‘she has good taste. Ovidio appreciated good taste.’
‘Nero and I talk long into the night, don’t we, Nero? You’d be amazed at the people he met with Ovidio. Grandees from all over Europe came and stayed here w
hen he was a boy. The Aga Khan, the Duke and Duchess of Windsor . . . I could listen to Nero’s stories for hours.’ She glanced at her husband for his approval. He looked at her lovingly, relieved beyond words that Nero wasn’t the young lover he had feared.
‘And I could talk for hours. I don’t like people on the whole, I’m happier with memories of those I loved who are dead. But Rosa and I are friends. I’m no longer alone. How ironic that the granddaughter of the woman who stole Ovidio’s heart is now my consolation.’
At that moment the door opened and Alba’s face peered in, shocked to see that the folly wasn’t empty.
‘Mamma!’ Rosa sat up guiltily.
‘What are you doing here? Oh my God! Nero?’
‘Alba,’ said Nero, pleased to see his audience was growing. ‘Is that Fitz?’ Fitz walked in behind Alba.
‘Come in, don’t be shy. Aren’t the years just falling away!’
‘Rosa, how do you know Nero?’ Alba was baffled. She thought him dead long ago.
‘I found him here.’ She shrugged, as if it was the most natural thing in the world.
‘Now we’ve found the intruder, the only thing left is to tell Mother.’
Fitz looked anxiously at Alba. He thought of Rosemary discovering them here together and barely dared contemplate the consequences. ‘I should go,’ he said.
‘Don’t go,’ interjected Nero. ‘We’re having a salon. We must make it a nightly event. It’ll be the most desirable salon in Italy.’
As Fitz turned to leave, he bumped straight into Romina who had appeared in the doorway with Rosemary like a pair of schoolmistresses walking in on an illicit midnight feast. ‘What on earth is going on? Who is that?’ She pointed at Nero.
‘You must be Romina,’ said Nero, standing up. ‘Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Nero. Palazzo Montelimone was once mine.’
‘Nero?’ she repeated. ‘Madonna! The world could not get any stranger! So you are the intruder? Che fascinante! I’ve always wondered. Luca, run to the house and bring some wine, I need a drink. Move over, Rosa my darling, I must sit down. Nero, who’d have thought you would come back from the dead?’
‘I’ve never felt more alive.’ He grinned, revealing a gap where his two teeth had been.
‘My dear friend, tell me all about the Marchese. I’m longing to know.’ At that moment Porci hurried past her, straight into the outstretched arms of Nero.
‘Hello, little pig. I know what you want.’ He withdrew a wedge of cake from his pocket which Porci ate greedily.
‘Well, that’s another mystery solved,’ muttered Romina, sitting down.
Rosemary glared at her husband. ‘What are you doing here?’ she demanded. ‘We’ve been looking all over for you!’
Everyone stared at Fitz and Alba. For a moment they floundered, not knowing what to say.
Rosa saw an opportunity to make peace with her mother. ‘It’s all my fault,’ she said, climbing off the bed. ‘Nero is my friend. I wanted to introduce him to Eugenio, my mother and Cosi, so we crept up here uninvited only to be discovered by Fitz and Luca, coming to trap the intruder.’ She threw up her hands. ‘We’re guilty as charged.’
‘But the real intruder is me,’ said Nero. ‘That’s a warmer word than ghost. I like it!’
‘If I had known you were the intruder, Nero, I would have invited you in for a drink,’ said Romina.
‘You would?’
‘Of course. This is your folly. Thanks to you, it has been perfectly preserved. To be honest, I never really felt it belonged to me, which is why I didn’t touch it. I must have known, somewhere deep inside my soul, that it was possessed by someone else, someone who had more right to it than me.’
‘You are a woman of excellent taste. Ovidio would have held you in high esteem. I have a book of old photographs. Perhaps you would like to see what the palazzo looked like in its prime, before we let it succumb to the elements?’
‘I would adore to see it! And I would adore for you to come here as often as you like, so long as you entertain me with wonderful stories of the Marchese.’
‘Nothing would give me greater pleasure.’ He kissed her hand. ‘You are not only beautiful but blessed with a dazzling intelligence. I am humbled by the glare of it. My gratitude is overwhelming. Do you mind if I have a cigarette?’
Rosemary relaxed her shoulders. ‘I’m sorry,’ she muttered, slipping her hand around Fitz’s arm. ‘I’ve been so worried.’
‘About what?’
She shook her head, not wanting to discuss her fears within earshot of Alba. ‘Silly woman’s worries. You’re fine, that’s all that matters.’
Alba smiled at her daughter. It was a small smile but Rosa felt her pride like the heat of the sun. She had won her mother’s admiration and her gratitude. Things were going to be different now.
When Luca returned with glasses and wine, he brought the rest of the house party with him. They all crammed into the folly, opened the bottles, and listened enraptured while Nero brought the past alive with colourful tales of dukes and princes and the inimitable Marchese.
Luca took Cosima’s hand. The ring sparkled on her finger like a bright star, but no one seemed to notice, until he caught the professor looking across at him with a father’s affection. His gaze dropped to Cosima’s ring and the professor gave Luca a wink and a discreet, but laudatory nod.
33
Luca told his parents that he was returning to London to touch base, pay bills and catch up with his friends. He didn’t tell them of his marriage plans, and he didn’t tell Cosima of his plans for their future. He just took a plane back with the intention of kick-starting the rest of his life with the woman who had made it all possible.
He left the palazzo in a state of excitement. Romina had all but adopted Nero, renaming the folly after him and inviting him to stay there whenever he liked. She spent hours on the terrace, with the old photographs of the palazzo and all the elegant people the Marchese had entertained in decadent magnificence. She welcomed Nero’s evening salons with Rosa, and Eugenio, so relieved that Nero was not the handsome stranger he had imagined, allowed her to see him as often as she wanted. The decrepit old Nero was no competition for Eugenio; Rosa’s enthusiastic love-making, without the stimulus of a row, was testament of that.
Fitz, Rosemary and Freya returned to England. Miles was at the end of his tether, afraid to the point of making himself ill that his wife would leave him for Luca. If it hadn’t been for Cosima, she might well have done. But she accepted his apology and believed him when he told her he had finished his affair and would never stray again. He could barely take his hands off her, following her around the house like an adoring puppy. Freya found this mildly irritating, but she was pleased to be back where she belonged. She didn’t need to sleep with Luca to redress the balance; she was holding all the cards.
Fitz knew he would never see Alba again. He lodged her safely in the very furthest corner of his heart along with his regret and a little sadness. There was no point longing for the unattainable. Alba and he were a chapter closed long ago. Now he would return to his life and look forward. He would try not to think of what might have been, or lament his lack of courage; he was too old to sour the years he had left. But she held all his love and always would.
While Luca was away, Nero became part of the palazzo ‘family’ along with Nanni, Caradoc and Ma, who seemed likely to stay on well after the summer was over. Porci’s infatuation with Nero grew more intense with each passing day, dozing off at his feet to the languid undulations of his beautiful Italian. Bill accepted his wife’s eccentric posse in his easy-going way. Having a group of friends around her all the time was what made her happy. He concentrated on the garden and began formulating an idea to build another folly, one dedicated to beauty and learning, for Romina.
Back in London, the overwhelming noise of the city and the strange sense of being alone in the midst of millions of people unsettled Luca. He breathed in the polluted air, grimaced at the crowds j
ostling on the pavements and sat in traffic while the knot of frustration grew tighter in his stomach. He went back to his empty house and felt emptiness engulf him again.
He drove to Kensington to surprise the girls. He could hear their laughter before he rang the bell and felt his excitement mount. Normally he would have taken presents, but this time, in his hurry to see them, he had forgotten.
When Claire saw him she flushed with surprise. ‘What are you doing here?’ Before he could reply, Coco and Juno pushed past her into his arms. He hugged them both, kissing their warm faces and rubbing his nose in their hair.
‘I’ve missed you!’ he breathed, realising how true it was.
‘Greedy wants to see you!’ said Juno, skipping off to the playroom to retrieve her caterpillar.
‘How are you, Coco?’
‘Are we going out to Italy again soon?’ she asked.
‘If you’d like to.’
‘I like the swimming pool.’
‘So do I.’
She giggled. ‘You’re the Naughty Crocodile!’
He tickled her ribs. ‘You know what Naughty Crocodiles do, don’t you?’
‘Eat children!’ she laughed, running off down the corridor.
‘You had better come in,’ said Claire.
‘Are you alone?’
‘If you’re referring to John, yes, I’m alone.’
‘Good. I need to talk to you and the girls.’
‘What about?’ Her stomach lurched at the horrendous possibilities.
He patted her back. ‘Nothing to be afraid of, Claire.’ He watched her shoulders drop. ‘I have some news I want to share.’
The Italian Matchmaker Page 31