by Lucy Gordon
I’m not fit to love and be loved. I only know how to give pain.
Forgive me and, for both our sakes, go back to England.
Bernardo.
She had to read it again and again to take it in. The sheer brutal simplicity of the short message was like being pounded by hammers. The man who’d loved her with such passion and tenderness in the night had fled her in the dawn, like an evil thing that he must escape to survive.
And now she heard what she’d blotted out before, Bernardo’s anguished voice begging her not to force the unbearable truth from him.
‘It was my own fault,’ she whispered. ‘I made him tell me. He wasn’t ready, but I forced it out of him. I had everything, and I threw it away. Oh God, how could I be so stupid?’
Suddenly the pride that had sustained her broke. Until this moment she’d won every round, and done so with such deceptive ease that she’d thought that was all there was to it. Now she saw how she’d thrown it all away, and she must stop that happening, no matter what she had to do.
She huddled on some clothes and ran out into the street. Stumbling, slipping, grasping the wall, she made her way blindly up the street to Bernardo’s house near the top. There was the little alley between the shops that led to his door. Gasping, she made her way along it, blinking in the poor light and finding the door by feel.
‘Bernardo!’ she screamed. ‘Bernardo!’
The door was opened at once. Stella stood there in tears.
‘He’s gone,’ she said. ‘An hour ago.’ She looked at Angie with sympathy. She had always understood the position, and been rooting for them.
‘Didn’t he say where?’ Angie begged.
‘Sometimes he goes away like this. He never says where.’
‘But when will he come back?’
Stella’s shrug was eloquent. ‘He’ll come back when he comes back.’
‘No, wait-’ Angie was trying to pull herself together, inwardly saying keep calm, don’t panic. ‘This place is snowed in.’
‘He spoke of his car,’ Stella said unhappily.
Angie counted every step down to the great gate that led out of Montedoro. Once there she could see the marks left in the snow. There were her own footsteps from when she’d gone down to fetch Bernardo, then two sets of steps overlapping, when they’d climbed back up together.
And there was another set, firmly heading down the hill, leaving sharp, emphatic imprints in the brilliant morning light. Angie strained her eyes against that cruel light, looking for any sign of the steps turning to come back.
But they went on down until they vanished into the mist.
CHAPTER TEN
S OON the news of Heather’s pregnancy had spread through the whole family, to general rejoicing. When the snow cleared Angie drove down to Palermo and was received with open arms by Heather and Baptista. The three women settled down to a pleasant afternoon together.
It was almost incredible how different everything felt on the coast. Here there was rain but no snow, the air was almost warm enough for spring, and there was even a glimmer of sunshine. But she had chosen a man from the mountains, and despite the harshness, even, it seemed, the cruelty of that life, she wasn’t ready yet to give up on her choice.
As she had cakes and coffee with Heather and Baptista she was uncomfortably conscious of the question they were both refusing to ask. They knew Bernardo had battled through atrocious weather to return to her, and they were surprised that he hadn’t come down with her now. But she had her defence mechanisms in place, carefully rehearsed to sound natural.
‘If you two could see yourselves,’ she chuckled. ‘Your ears are flapping.’
‘So tell us,’ Heather demanded, ‘then they won’t need to flap.’
‘So nothing. He came back. We had a meal together. It’s all very friendly and civilised. Now he’s away for a few days. Baptista, that cake is delicious. Can I have some more?’
‘It’s crawling with calories,’ Heather said darkly. ‘You’ll get fat-I wish.’
‘Not as fast as you will,’ Angie teased, skilfully turning the conversation back to Heather’s pregnancy.
Luckily they both accepted this and asked no more questions. Angie didn’t feel up to telling them how Bernardo had vanished while she was still ecstatic from his loving, and driven off, apparently into oblivion.
She’d had hours since then to ponder what he’d told her about the feeling of guilt that still tormented him from his childhood. Now she looked at Baptista and wondered if his foster mother really would hate him if she knew the truth. Somehow Angie couldn’t imagine it of that great and generous woman, but how would she react to the discovery that her husband had died needlessly?
Once Baptista had said, ‘I can only guess at his deepest secret, and I may be wrong.’ For a fleeting moment Angie was tempted to speak out, but then she knew she mustn’t. Bernardo had spoken to her in confidence and then regretted it so fiercely that he’d fled, rejecting her and their love with heart breaking finality. She had no right to repeat anything he’d said, even to Baptista.
After a while they were joined by a tall, white-haired man who turned out to be Federico, the ‘old friend’ from the party.
‘He’s more than that,’ Heather murmured into her ear. ‘Years and years ago he and Baptista were in love with each other. She calls him Fede. Now he comes almost every day and they sit holding hands. It’s so sweet to see them together.’
It was true, Angie thought, watching the two old people, so happy in each other’s company. They had been lovers once, and they were lovers still, although differently. Somehow Bernardo had missed the truth about them. But then, Angie reflected sadly, Bernardo wasn’t very perceptive about people.
She had a pleasant surprise with the arrival of the brothers. Renato had altered. His joy in his wife was quiet but so heartfelt, and his attitude to her so tender that Angie finally began to like him.
Lorenzo too had changed, although it was harder for her to be sure just how. He was still the merry hearted charmer that nature had made him, but he seemed to have mysteriously grown in confidence, and Angie sensed it had something to do with Renato’s happiness. Lorenzo’s love for his older brother had once been tinged with awe but now there was a subtle change in the power balance between them. Lorenzo had held the happiness of three people in his hands, and by doing the right thing he’d saved them all. Now Renato had acknowledged it and nothing would ever be the same between them again.
He greeted Angie with a brotherly kiss, as though she was already a member of the family, and, sitting down, began to tell her about the trip he was about to take to the States.
‘New York, New Orleans, Los Angeles, Chicago-spreading the Martelli word wherever I go.’
‘Yes, well, I heard you daren’t show your face in Britain again,’ Angie teased.
‘That was a misunderstanding,’ he said loftily. ‘The magistrate fined me, I paid it-’
‘And high-tailed it out of the country while the going was good.’
‘My big sister’s been opening her big mouth,’ Lorenzo said with a good natured grin at Heather.
She heard him, and returned the smile. So did Renato. They were sitting together, the picture of blissful contentment, bathed in their own happiness and the happiness they had brought to others. This was the Martelli family at its best, Angie thought, and in the same moment came the realisation that this was the family Bernardo had rejected as he had rejected her. Because something in him made it easier to reject warmth and loving kindness than to accept it. After the other night she partly understood what that ‘something’ was, and her heart ached that he wouldn’t turn to her, seeking help and consolation in her love.
As soon as it was polite to do so she left the Residenza and drove home to the mountains, which had never seemed so lonely.
Lorenzo was in the States for two months, sending back a stream of big orders and covering himself with glory. He returned in the second week of April, and one of the
first things he did was to visit Angie, arriving just as she was finishing evening surgery.
‘You’re welcome to stay if you don’t mind something microwaved,’ she said.
‘Sounds fine.’
From her freezer he selected a vegetarian lasagne and she put it in the oven.
‘No wine for me,’ she said as he produced a bottle. ‘Pour me an orange juice.’ While he did so she laid the table, glad to have company. ‘I want to hear all about America,’ she said.
Instead of answering, Lorenzo grinned in a way that made Angie raise her eyebrows. ‘What’s her name?’ she demanded at once.
‘I don’t know why you women always jump to one conclusion. I spent some time with the daughter of family friends in New York. Her name’s Helen, and before you start listening for wedding bells, I’m the last man in the world she’d dream of marrying. She told me that in the first ten minutes.’
‘You proposed to her in ten minutes?’
‘She didn’t wait for a proposal. She just rushed to tell me not to bother.’
‘You don’t mean you’ve met a woman who’s immune to your charm?’
‘If you like to put it that way,’ he said, slightly piqued.
‘Well, don’t keep me in suspense. Tell me-ouch!’
A fork had fallen to the floor and jabbed her foot. Leaning down for it, she found the flagstones swimming.
‘Are you all right?’ Lorenzo asked in alarm. He rushed across the floor and took her shoulders, steadying her as he raised her.
‘Yes, I’m fine,’ she said quickly.
‘You look a bit peaky.’
‘It’s been a long, hard day. I didn’t have time for lunch, and that’s fatal.’
‘Well, you sit there and I’ll finish. Even I can cook with a microwave.’
He was as good as his word, serving her with a comical flourish that made her laugh.
‘If you were hoping to see Bernardo, he still isn’t here,’ she said as they were eating.
‘I know. Mamma told me he was still off somewhere. It’s you I came to see. How are you managing?’
‘Better than anyone expected.’
‘You mean better than he expected.’
‘Yes, I suppose so.’ She gave a brittle laugh. ‘I keep wishing he’d come back so that I can say, “I told you so”.’
‘He used to do this a lot when we were boys, you know. It’s not enough for him to live in the same world as the rest of us. He has to have another one, all his own, where he makes the rules and nobody else is invited. And sometimes he has to vanish into it. But it’s hard on you. What’s the point of your coming here to be with him, if he isn’t here?’
‘I didn’t come here to be with him,’ Angie said stonily. ‘I came to teach him a lesson.’ Her voice broke. ‘I seem to have rather overdone it.’
‘Don’t say that.’ Lorenzo took both of her hands in his, and his voice was kind. ‘It isn’t your fault. My brother’s a fool. Well, we all are, but Bernardo’s a different kind of fool. Renato schemes and connives, and sometimes he makes a mess of things by being too clever for his own good. Me, I’m just a plain, straightforward idiot. But Bernardo’s thoughts are all dark and tangled up so that he can’t see what’s staring him in the face.’
There was such kindness in his eyes that she thought wistfully how different things might have been. How nice it would be to have Lorenzo as a brother! The temptation to confide in him was overwhelming. She might have yielded to it if the doorbell hadn’t rung. A moment later Ginetta ushered a sharp-faced young man into the room.
‘Not you again!’ Angie said, with a loathing that made Lorenzo stare at her.
The man was in his late twenties with lean features and a supercilious stare. His manner suggested a barely suppressed impatience. Angie introduced him as Carlo Bondini, but she did so briefly and without warmth, adding, ‘Signor Bondini, I asked you not to bother me again.’
‘I merely thought you might have changed your mind, on reflection.’
‘Well, I haven’t.’
‘I can increase my offer by another ten million lire. It’s a very good offer.’
‘It would be an excellent offer if I wanted to sell, but I don’t. Why can’t you take no for an answer?’
‘Because this is exactly the kind of practice I’m looking for.’
‘Then please keep looking and find another one. And don’t come back.’
‘Oh, I’ll be back.’
‘No, you’ve been told not to,’ Lorenzo said with deceptive affability. ‘But you never could take a hint. I’ve just remembered you. We were at school together. I didn’t like you then, either. Get going and keep going.’
Bondini looked as if he might dispute the point, but he wasn’t built for heroics against a man of Lorenzo’s size, and he wisely decided to let the matter drop.
‘We’ll leave it there for the moment,’ he said with a shrug. ‘But don’t reject my offer without careful thought.’ His eyes on Angie were like gimlets. ‘You don’t have that much time, after all. I’m a doctor, too, remember, and I have eyes-signorina.’
He made the last word an insult. Then he was gone.
‘Does he pester you often?’ Lorenzo exploded.
‘He turns up every two weeks with an improved offer.’
‘But why? What’s so marvellous about this-? I mean-’
‘Did you really know him at school?’
‘Yes. I used to get him to do my homework for me,’ Lorenzo confessed with a grin that wasn’t in the least ashamed.
‘I thought you didn’t like him.’
‘The transaction was purely commercial. I wonder where he’s suddenly getting money from.’
‘Can’t you guess?’ Angie asked with a sigh. ‘Bernardo, of course. He’s trying to buy me out.’
‘But you can’t-I mean-not now-not if I understood him correctly-’
‘I expect you did,’ Angie said with a wan smile.
‘That settles it,’ Lorenzo said with sudden resolution. ‘Now it’s a family matter.’
The farmhouse stood at the end of a dirt track, most of which was hidden by trees. It had been abandoned long ago, although the building had been roughly patched up to make it habitable if not comfortable.
Bernardo saw his brother coming from a distance and was waiting by the door, his face dark and unwelcoming. ‘How the devil did you find this place?’
‘I’ve always known about it,’ Lorenzo told him. ‘You used to slip away up here when we were boys, and once I followed you. You never knew.’
‘If I had I’d have found somewhere else.’
‘I know. That’s why I didn’t tell you. I knew your odd ways. We all did.’
Bernardo reluctantly stood aside to let him enter. ‘Is it odd to want a little privacy?’
‘Not privacy. Isolation. Maria vergine! How do you live in this place?’
‘Very well when I’m left alone.’
‘Look I don’t know what went wrong between you and Angie, but I’m willing to bet it was your fault. You’ve got a beautiful, brilliant woman in love with you, so of course you weren’t happy until you’d rejected her, the way you’ve rejected us all for years. But I’m still your brother and I’m not going to let you screw up the best thing that ever happened to you.’
Bernardo didn’t answer, only stared at him with bleak, anguished eyes.
Lorenzo said more gently, ‘The world won’t go away, Bernardo. It’s out there and it’s full of unpleasant people, like Carlo Bondini.’
‘What do you know about him?’ Bernardo demanded sharply.
‘I saw his last visit, and I came to tell you to get him off Angie’s back. He’s trying to bully her.’
Bernardo swore. ‘I told him to offer for the practice. I never meant him to upset her.’
‘You should choose your instruments more carefully. If you ever let your brothers past the guarded gates I could have told you he’s a nasty piece of work.’
‘I can do witho
ut your advice,’ Bernardo said coldly. ‘Ever since Renato acknowledged a debt to you you’ve become damned insufferable.’
‘I was always insufferable,’ Lorenzo remarked with perfect truth. ‘But that’s not the point. Things have changed. Something’s going on. I’m not sure what. I have my suspicions but I’m not a doctor-unlike Bondini, as he was careful to point out.’
‘What are you saying?’ Bernardo asked slowly.
‘I’m saying that if you’re going to add to the family, it’s about time you started being a member of it.’
The way back was like driving through a tunnel of blossoms. The most fertile land on earth was flaunting its lush beauty in the sun, and everywhere Bernardo looked there was harmony that seemed to invite him on.
Until he saw the path ahead.
By stepping on the accelerator he was there in a couple of seconds, too fast for the crowd of young men to disperse from where they had been surrounding the woman on the mule. They were all smiling but in a way that suggested menace, and one was holding the mule’s bridle. At the sound of Bernardo’s car they looked up in alarm, and scattered.
He didn’t bother pursuing. He saw only the woman and the thunderstruck look she was giving him.
‘So you came back?’ Angie said distantly. ‘I suppose I should thank you for getting rid of them. Well, thank you. But now I’d like to go.’
‘What are you doing in this place?’
‘Visiting my patients.’
‘On your own? Are you mad?’
‘I never had trouble before.’
‘So why suddenly now?’
Her face set against him. ‘How should I know?’
‘I think you do.’
‘And I think I’d like you to just fade away and let me get on. I have two more people to see.’
‘Then get into my car.’
‘And what about Jason?’
‘Who?’
‘Antonio needs Nesta on the farm now, so I bought my own mule. We can’t put him in the car.’
‘He can walk behind. Please get in.’ He reached up to grasp her wrist, but was almost blown back by the freezing look in her eyes.