by Penny Jordan
‘Sorry to interrupt.’ The nurse was back now, standing hesitantly at the door, a sympathetic smile on her young face and as Rico’s hand dropped hers like a hot stone, cruel reality invaded.
There is no us, Catherine reminded herself. There never has been.
She was in this alone.
‘I’m going off on my break in a few minutes. Would you like me to walk you back up to the children’s ward before I go? It’s a bit of a maze…’
‘That won’t be necessary, thank you.’ Rico stood up, the tenderness she had briefly witnessed flicking off like a light switch, as he asserted his authority in an instant. ‘I have already been to the children’s ward and seen Lily. I explained to the sister in charge that Miss Masters and I will be staying at a nearby hotel tonight and will be back first thing in the morning. Thank you,’ he said again crisply, effectively dismissing her, and as the door closed Catherine blinked at him a couple of times.
‘You’ve been to see Lily?’
‘Of course.’
Of course. The words played over in her mind. Of course he would have been to see her first. Marco and Janey were dead, there was nothing he could do there, why wouldn’t he rush to see his niece? It made perfect sense, but a chill of foreboding crept over her as she met his dark, brooding stare, saw his eyes narrow suspiciously as he watched her.
‘I don’t want to go to a hotel and leave her.’ Catherine stood up, relieved that her legs, although still trembling, seemed at least to be holding her now. ‘I don’t think she should be alone tonight. If she wakes up—’
‘The nurses will deal with her,’ Rico said crisply ‘And if there is a problem we are only two minutes away. That is why I have booked into a hotel rather than go home; we will be literally across the road.’
‘But I’d be next to her here,’ Catherine pointed out. ‘Just because you’re too grand to sleep on a roller bed it doesn’t mean that I am.’
‘I make no apology,’ Rico clipped. ‘I would like to shower, I would like a very large drink, and…’ Whatever else he wanted, Rico wasn’t sharing it. He stared haughtily back at her. ‘I’m sure the nurses will be able to cope with her.’
‘But she needs—’
‘What?’ Rico broke in, his word a pistol shot. ‘Needs what? You can’t miss what you don’t have, and I doubt that baby has ever seen her mother after six p.m. In the six months Lily’s been alive she’s already had to get to know five nannies, so I’m sure a nurse feeding her in the middle of the night isn’t going to send her into a frenzy. Your sister made quite sure Lily got used to strangers.’
Your sister. He had spat the words at her accusingly but Catherine refused to rise.
‘I want to be with her,’ Catherine stated calmly. ‘If you want to go to a hotel—fine. But I’m not leaving.’ Picking up her bag, she headed for the door, but the slow handclap resounding from Rico stilled her. Tossing her head, she turned to face him, her eyes questioning.
‘Bravo,’ he sneered. ‘If I didn’t know you better you’d almost pass for a grief-stricken aunty.’
‘I just want to do the right thing by Lily,’ Catherine responded, utterly bemused, with no idea where this was leading.
‘Of course you do!’ She heard the sarcasm dripping in his voice, but it merely confused her. ‘Possession is nine-tenths of the law and all that.’
‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’ Whatever Rico’s problem was she didn’t want to hear it. She didn’t want to do this now. She was exhausted, physically and mentally exhausted, and even though she’d only been promised a roller bed by Lily’s cot the thought of stretching out, of closing her eyes on this vile day, was the only thing keeping her standing. ‘I’ll speak to you in the morning.’
‘You’ll speak to me tonight.’ His voice stayed low but there was a menacing note that had the hairs rising on the back of her neck. ‘You’ll tell me everything that’s happened.’
‘I’ve already told you,’ Catherine responded hotly. ‘What the hell does it matter how it happened, Rico? They’re dead, and going over and over it doesn’t change anything.’
‘Oh, but it does.’ His eyes bored into hers. ‘The fact they’re dead changes everything. Why didn’t you tell me you’d spoken to social workers, Catherine? Why did you omit to mention that you’ve told them you are taking Lily home with you when she’s discharged? That you are applying for guardianship?’
Her mind was working nineteen to the dozen now, realisation dawning as his savage eyes met hers, as she registered just how low he thought she was prepared to stoop.
‘You’ve got it all wrong,’ she insisted. ‘It wasn’t like that. The hospital needed a name, a next of kin, someone to sign a consent form if Lily needed an operation.’
‘And you were only too happy to provide it.’
‘Of course I was,’ Catherine responded hotly. ‘As much as you mightn’t like it, Rico, as much as you might want to wipe me out of your life, I have as much right to be here as you. I am Lily’s aunt just as you are her uncle, and given the fact that her parents have just been killed it makes us her next of kin. I had every right to sign that form and I resent the implication that I had some sort of ulterior motive. She’s seems okay now, but we didn’t know. She has bruises from the car seat and the doctors thought there could be some internal damage. You weren’t here, Rico! What was I supposed to do? Refuse to sign?’
‘Okay,’ he conceded reluctantly. ‘But you told them you are taking Lily home with you when she’s discharged, told them you are prepared to look after her…’
‘And I am,’ Catherine wailed, her patience flying out of the window as she faced this impossible, mistrusting man. ‘She’s my niece and I want to look after her—in the short term at least.’
‘That’s not what you said to the social workers.’
‘Oh, come on, Rico. Janey died this afternoon. I can barely comprehend what’s happened, let alone make long-term plans! As if I know what I’m going to do.’
‘Don’t lie,’ he spat. ‘Poor little Lily. I can just see you laying it on with a trowel to the social workers. I can almost hear the little sob in your voice as you said it!’ His eyes narrowed, his lips contorting as he eyed her distastefully. ‘Only she’s not so poor, is she? As of this evening, Lily’s incredibly rich. You must have been rubbing your hands in glee when the bloody Mancinis couldn’t even be bothered to make it to the hospital—rubbing your hands in glee when no one was there to stop you when you said you’d take care of her.’
‘It wasn’t like that!’ It was Catherine’s voice rising now. ‘How dare you? How dare you accuse me of trying to profit from my sister’s death? How dare you suggest I would use my niece as a pawn? Why would I—’
‘I’ll tell you why.’ His voice was low, a contrast to hers, his eyes forbidding as they stared back at her coldly. ‘Because you hate your life, Catherine. Because you’d go to any lengths to change it.’
‘You’re disgusting.’ Pulling her arms away, she attempted to wrestle it from his hand, but his grip only tightened. ‘Let go of me, Rico. I’m going to my niece.’
‘Over my dead body.’ His face was as white as marble in the fluorescent light, his cheeks jagged, his lips set in grim determination. ‘You’re coming back to the hotel with me, Catherine. Tonight we talk.’
CHAPTER THREE
THEY drove in silence.
Angry denials were bobbing on her tongue, but the set of his jaw, the grip of his hands on the steering wheel told her now wasn’t the time.
They needed to face the situation calmly, talk things through rationally. Lily’s future was too precious to be relegated to a heated row in a hospital corridor, and given the day’s events a high-speed sports car wasn’t exactly the ideal spot either. That was the only reason Catherine had given in and agreed to go back to the hotel, allowed him to lead her through the endless hospital corridors and out to the car park, and she held her tongue now, biting back smart replies, determined to do things properly
.
His sleek, low silver car purred through the night streets. The windows thankfully were open, and Catherine welcomed the cool breeze that whipped her cheeks, blowing away the nauseating stench of the hospital. As they slowed at the lights a tram clattered past. A couple of young lovers were kissing in a doorway, and the early editions of tomorrow’s papers were already bundled outside a newsagents’. It was hard to comprehend that the world was carrying on as normal, hard to fathom that those same newspapers probably contained a line or two, maybe even a photo, summarising the tragic end of Janey and Marco for those who wanted to know.
The concierge greeted Rico as if he had been waiting up only for him to arrive, making impatient gestures in Reception to hurry things along.
‘Mr Mancini, this is such an unexpected pleasure. I was just saying that we haven’t seen you or…’ His warm greeting was barely acknowledged and even in her numb state Catherine felt a sting of embarrassment at Rico’s cool treatment of the staff.
‘I would like to go straight up, please.’
‘Your bags are already on their way up, and the housekeeper is turning back the bed as we speak. It will be just a moment—’
‘I don’t have a moment.’ Rico’s voice was pure, unadulterated snobbery. ‘Miss Masters is tired, I am tired, and I’m going to my room!’ Striding to the lift, he beckoned a furiously blushing Catherine to join him, punching the top button and closing the door on the poor concierge.
‘You really think you’re better than everyone, don’t you?’
For once Rico didn’t respond, for once a smart reply seemed to elude him, and Catherine warmed to her subject as the lift door slid open on the heady heights of the penthouse. She watched as he dismissed the frenziedly working staff with one flick of his hand and let out a low snort, shaking her head as he poured himself a drink, not even bothering to offer her one.
‘You haven’t even booked a room here, yet you expect one to be waiting for you—for people to jump just because you deign to grace them with your presence.’
‘What do you expect me to do, Catherine?’ He downed his drink in one, slamming the crystal onto the silver tray, his eyes finally meeting hers. ‘Tell me how you expected me to behave down there.’
‘You could have shown some manners, to start with,’ Catherine replied hotly, and even though the argument was meaningless, even though it was so far removed from all that had happened, she prolonged it. Maybe it was easier than facing the real reason why she was here. ‘The concierge was being nothing but pleasant—’
‘He’s paid to be pleasant,’ Rico broke in. ‘He’s paid to remember my name, to remember that this is where my brother and I come for lunch when my schedule allows, that sometimes I choose to stay here rather than drive home.’
‘Maybe he is paid to remember, but surely you can still be polite when someone greets you!’
‘My brother is dead,’ Rico snapped.
‘So is my sister. But I don’t use it as an excuse to snub people. I didn’t treat the nurses and doctors like dirt on my shoe…’
‘If I hadn’t interrupted him he would have asked about Marco, asked how he was doing, when they could expect to see him again. Did you want me to tell him, Catherine? Did you want me to stand in the foyer and tell the world my brother is dead when any moment now they’re going to find out anyway?’
He looked at her bemused face and shook his head disbelievingly. Picking up a remote control, he flicked on the television, watching her expression as the images shot into focus, hearing the tiny strangled sob as the mangled wreckage of a car filled the screen, then Marco and Janey’s wedding photo, superimposed on the top right corner. The news reader droned on, regaling supposed facts Catherine simply wasn’t ready to hear, and her hand shot to her ears in a childlike gesture, her eyes screwing closed against the horrible images that seemed to be choking her.
‘I asked the hospital not to release their names until we left.’
His explanation wasn’t helping, and she opened her eyes, stared at him, bemused.
‘A Mancini is dead.’
‘Two Mancinis,’ Catherine corrected. ‘My sister counts too.’
‘Your sister counts for nothing,’ Rico sneered. ‘But, yes, I stand corrected. Technically two Mancinis are dead, Catherine, and that is news. No doubt the poor concierge you were so worried about is now either kicking himself for his insensitivity or ringing the press to tell them I am here.’ He gave a small shrug. ‘Frankly, I don’t give a damn which one it is.’
‘But why would the press want to speak to you?’
‘Are you stupid, Catherine? Or just a really good actress?’
His words barely touched the sides. Pain was already layered on top of pain—another dash of scorn, another dose of humiliation from Rico was not much in the scheme of things.
‘I’m not stupid, Rico.’ Her brown eyes met his. ‘I read the papers, I watch the news when I get home from work, and I know how powerful the Mancinis are, I know that the stockmarket rises and falls depending on your company’s profits. But Marco wasn’t a part of the family business—Marco never worked a day in his life. I really can’t see why the press are getting so excited. His death isn’t going to affect the company—’
‘Do you think the press will care about a small detail like that?’ Rico broke in, ‘Marco is rich, he has a daughter—’
‘Was rich,’ Catherine corrected, and for a second so small it was barely there she was sure she saw a flicker of pain in those dark eyes, saw the haughty, bland mask slip for a tiny second, but she continued anyway. ‘Had a daughter.’
‘Which is why I’ve brought you here.’
‘You didn’t bring me here,’ Catherine pointed out. ‘I chose to come. I’m not stupid, Rico, but possibly I’ve been a bit naamp2;¨ve. Maybe the world isn’t going to stop because of Janey and Marco’s deaths, but it’s certainly going to pause for a few days’ reflection, and I can see that Lily’s future will be debated vigorously by people who don’t give a damn about her. But I for one don’t care what the newspapers have to say, because at the end of the day everyone will get on with their lives. We’re the ones who are going to be living it; we’re the ones dealing with the issues.’
‘I don’t give a damn what the press say, either,’ Rico responded. ‘But it is not only the press who will be having their say…’ His eyes narrowed thoughtfully and he stared at her for the longest moment, as if deciding whether or not to continue. ‘My stepmother is not going to let you have Lily.’ A tiny gasp of protest escaped Catherine’s lips, but she swallowed it back. Rico’s words were too important for interruption. ‘I can tell you now that she won’t allow it to happen. She will not allow Lily’s inheritance to leave the family.’
‘But why?’ Catherine asked, bemused. ‘Surely she doesn’t need the money? Surely…?’
‘Too much is never enough, and the way my stepmother spends money this unexpected windfall will not be given up without a fight.’ His mouth set in a grim line. ‘My stepmother is the coldest woman on this earth. She is the reason Marco went off the rails, the reason he drank himself—’
‘That’s an excuse,’ Catherine broke in. ‘I had the same argument over and over with Janey, when she tried to blame our parents for whatever scrape she found herself in. You had the same family as Marco, the same pressures, yet you still managed to hold down a job, manage your affairs. Marco may have been disadvantaged by his stepmother, but he still had a lot more opportunities in life than most people dream of. You do him no favours by blaming your stepmother.’
‘Perhaps,’ Rico conceded. ‘But it is not always black and white, Catherine. People are different. I am stronger than Marco; I am tougher.’ There was no superiority in his words, just the cool deliverance of fact, and this time Catherine chose not to remind him that Marco was now in the past tense. She just listened as he continued to talk. ‘Antonia is a nasty piece of work, and till the day I die I will blame her in part for the fact Marco is now lying in a
mortuary…’ His voice wavered slightly, his fists clenching in salute by his sides, and Catherine was shocked to see what was surely the glint of tears in those dark eyes. But just as soon as his pain registered, like a light flicking off, the impassive mask returned. ‘I will not allow her to mess up Lily the way she messed up Marco.’
‘Then what was all that about back at the hospital?’ Deliberately she kept her tone even, refusing to be intimidated by him. ‘Given what you’ve just told me, surely I’m the better option to raise Lily? And before you insist I only want her for the money, let me tell you, Rico, you are wrong. Her inheritance never entered my head—not until you came tonight.’
He stared at her, disbelief etched on his features, but his shrug was almost weary. ‘Maybe you want both. Maybe you do care for Lily, and I guess there is no shame in wanting to be rich.’ She opened her mouth to argue, but Rico carried on talking. ‘I cannot let Lily go with this woman, Catherine.’
‘Then let me have her.’
‘It is not that simple. Antonia will go to every court in the land, use every means available to discredit you. She’ll have the most expensive lawyers. You are a teacher, Catherine. The reality is that you survive on a schoolteacher’s wage. Against her you won’t stand a chance.’
His words made sense, and a dark feeling of foreboding shivered through her. Though it galled her to ask for his assistance, Catherine knew she had no choice, and the words were out before the idea had even formed. ‘You could help me.’
‘Why would I help you, Catherine? Why wouldn’t I just apply for custody myself?’
‘Go ahead,’ Catherine said airily, though her heart was in her mouth. She registered the surprise in his expression and it gave her a small surge of triumph. Her eyes met his defiantly, fighting fire with fire as she carried on talking. ‘But don’t try and scare me off, Rico, with talk of money and lawyers. I’ll sell my home if I have to, and when the money has gone I’ll apply for legal aid. I’ll tell you this now, and I’ll tell each Mancini in turn if they care to ask: I have as much right to Lily as anyone. Unlike you, I’ve actually played a part in her short life. As much as I loathed the way Marco and Janey carried on I still went round, still made sure I was there for Lily…’