by K. J. Rabane
Leo insisted on taking a photograph of me, blinking in the sunshine, in front of the bronze statue of David. The panoramic view of Florence stretched out behind her as she positioned the camera. She fell in love with that photograph, calling it Leonora’s Abe in honour of Michelangelo’s David and when we returned to River House she insisted on mounting it in a small silver frame, placing it on her bedside table where, she informed me, it would be the last thing she would look at before she went to sleep.
We were travelling along a country road towards Tuscany when I suggested, as we were in the area, it might be nice to visit her aunt. It seemed an innocuous suggestion but I was unprepared for what was to follow. Her reaction was uncharacteristic. She paused, anxiously plucking at the rim of her cotton jacket with her fingertips.
“Leo? What do you think?” I persisted
Biting her bottom lip, her voice almost inaudible, she said, “No, It’s not a good idea, Abe.”
“Oh I just thought……” I began.
“Thank you, but my aunt does not welcome visitors. She’s a very private person and not at all well at the moment.”
“We need not stay. I thought perhaps she’d be pleased to see us and as we’re so near it seems a shame not to visit.”
Her tone hardened and the sharpness in her voice took me by surprise, as she replied, “I said, no. Please leave it alone.”
I did not comment further and the silence grew between us like an impenetrable hedge. Later, when the road forked in two I took the left-hand fork towards Rome. I judged that by the distance on the signpost we would arrive in the Italian capital around teatime. We drove on in silence and I hated every moment of it but decided she would have to calm down and explain before I could trust myself to speak. As the kilometres sped away, I sensed her relaxing beside me and then felt her hand creeping along my leg until it rested on my knee.
“I’m sorry, Abe,” she said, the anger in her voice having subsided. I’ll explain it all to you one day, trust me. It’s a long story but now is not the time nor the place.”
I placed my hand on top of hers. “We’ll say no more about it, darling. Let’s forget this morning and look forward to spending time in Rome.”
As it turned, out our visit to Rome was destined to be shorter than planned; we had at best a few days when my mobile rang. It was Alan Henderson apologising for the call but Chip Thornley had hit a snag with Andromeda and he needed my advice urgently, otherwise the project would not meet our expected target date.
Leo was philosophical when I told her the news. “Never mind we’ve had the most marvellous time. It had to end sometime and as long as we are together, I don’t mind where it is.”
The end of our honeymoon made me realise why Evelyn had wanted to spend so much time with Leonora, time I’d resented, a lifetime ago. I wasn’t looking forward to leaving her at River House whilst I travelled to the city to sort out things in the office, as I couldn’t bear to be parted from her. She had a mesmeric quality that kept me wanting more. I was addicted and began to think perhaps I’d always been. But to entertain such thoughts made a sham of my marriage to Evelyn and I knew that was not the case.
Chip looked over my shoulder and exclaimed, “Of course, why didn’t I see it before? I’m sorry you had to cut short your holiday. You must think I’m a prize prat.”
“On the contrary,” I said. “ I think you’ve worked wonders with this. Andromeda was always a tricky concept. I should know. I spent enough time formulating it. Your work is excellent. I couldn’t be more pleased that I’ve been able to leave you to get on with it, without my constant input. It’s allowed me a certain amount of freedom at a very special time in my life and for that I’m eternally grateful.”
I watched the young man’s chest expand and fill with pride. My enthusiastic support, when he’d been feeling at his wits’ end, had struck the right note. He bent his head towards the screen. “I’ll have this finished in time for the Christmas market for certain now, Mr Hope.”
Chip was as good as his word. Maxwell Hutton rang me in the New Year to congratulate me for once more ‘bringing home the bacon’ as he put it. Softcell’s coffers were by now full to overflowing. I had a personal fortune, which at the time of my marriage to Evelyn, I could only have dreamed about. Alan Henderson bought a new house in the suburbs, where his four children could run wild, and Chip Thornley moved into an up and coming dockside apartment, solely on the strength of Andromeda’s success.
When we’d returned from our honeymoon, I’d instructed Mrs Bates to make up the bed in the main guest bedroom for us. I didn’t think Leo would relish sleeping in the room I’d shared with Evelyn but after a few days had passed she said, “Abe darling, why don’t we sleep in the master bedroom? The view is much better and I think it would be nice to wake up and see the river from my bed. Lucas and I always regretted that our house faced the wood and River Road.”
I could deny her nothing and so agreed with reluctance. Although, the first night we spent in the large bed, with its cream silk canopy, I was haunted by dreams of Evelyn and awoke in a confused and dazed state to find Leo sleeping peacefully at my side. She looked so lovely that my breath caught in my throat and I shivered. My mother would have said someone was walking over my grave and I suppose in a way someone was.
During the following months, we decided to look for an additional property in town. We thought it would be an investment, in addition to which, it would be a convenient place to stay when we’d been to the theatre or I was working late at the office. Unfortunately though, the property we liked in Mayfair was sold before we could make an offer and afterwards nothing seemed to quite match up to it.
One evening I arrived home, after a planning meeting with Alan, to find Mrs Bates had returned unexpectedly and in the kitchen there was an appetising aroma of beef stew, coming from the stove.
“Mrs Bates! You’re back,” I said, stating the obvious. “How is your sister?”
“Good, thank you, Mr Hope.” She sniffed. “Mrs Hope told me to inform you she’s upstairs packing.”
Her tone of voice, when she referred to ‘Mrs Hope’, left me in no doubt as to her feelings regarding my new wife, it was something she found impossible to hide.
I raced up the wide staircase, my heart pounding in my chest. Packing? Where was Leo going? I hurried along the landing to our bedroom. She was standing in front of a suitcase folding a pair of cotton trousers lengthways with the precision I had come to expect of her.
“What’s up?” I asked, catching my breath. I wasn’t as fit as I should be, I realised.
“I had a telephone call from my aunt’s neighbour. She is unwell and has been asking to see me. I’m sorry, Abe. You do see I must go to her?”
“Of course. But why don’t I come with you? Softcell can spare me; I do own the company after all.”
My attempt at levity hit a blank wall.
“I wouldn’t hear of it. Apart from anything else you would be so bored.” She looked away and carried on packing her case.
“On the contrary,” I persisted, “I’d like to meet your aunt and help you nurse her back to health. It’s the least I can do.”
I couldn’t see the expression on her face but I saw her back stiffen as she replied firmly, “Maybe on another occasion. I appreciate your offer but it is not the appropriate time. I know she would prefer to be well when she meets you.”
“As you wish. But you know I’ll miss you. Don’t forget to phone me when you arrive,” I replied with chagrin.
Later, as I watched the Alitalia jet rise skyward, I wondered if I would ever meet Leonora’s aunt and whether Lucas had been faced with the same dilemma. I had the strong feeling he might have gone to his grave without ever having met her elusive Italian relative. Leo’s ancestry was still a bit of mystery and I resolved, that on her return, I would find out more and as tactfully as I could, discover where she’d inherited her Scandinavian looks. I’d not seen many fair-haired, blue-eyed, Italians in the
course of my travels and was intrigued still further by the beautiful enigma that was my wife.
Chapter 22
During the time Leo was in Italy, I viewed properties in the city in the hope that one similar to the Mayfair apartment would become available. As luck would have it, during the second week of her absence, the apartment we had originally viewed was back on the market, the sale having fallen through. I couldn’t believe my good fortune and lost no time in arranging an appointment with the estate agent. I made an offer, which I knew was generous and, as I’d anticipated, it was accepted.
I felt excited at the prospect of telling Leo that we now owned the property she’d set her heart upon. However, I decided to keep the news to myself until she returned and then surprise her.
The following two weeks passed slowly and hearing her voice on the telephone at the end of the day only succeeded in lowering my spirits still further. My frustration at being unable to touch her and see her beautiful face was ruining my concentration and I paced the rooms of River House like a caged beast longing for release.
Mrs Bates fussed around me like a mother hen, concocting a variety of dishes aimed at lifting my mood, which I toyed with, much to her disgust.
“That’s your favourite, sir, go on now, try a bit more, it will do you good,” she coaxed.
Since Leo’s departure, Mrs Bates had reverted to her old self and couldn’t do enough for me, so for her sake I dragged Tinker out to walk along the path in the opposite direction to the Dangerfields’ house. I hadn’t seen either Josie or Henry since our honeymoon and was in no mood to explain my eagerness to marry a woman of whom they so obviously disapproved.
The sun shone for a spell then disappeared behind badger-grey clouds threatening a downpour. Tinker seemed happy enough but clung to my heels like a strip of Sellotape.
“Go on boy, fetch,” I said, throwing a stick into a thicket. Reluctantly, Tinker disappeared into the undergrowth as the whirring of a motorised disability scooter filled the air.
Henry was alone. He was wearing a green jacket and I noticed a large golfing umbrella resting at his side. I felt a twinge of embarrassment, which dispersed as soon as he opened his mouth. “Looks like rain,” he said. “Josie insisted I bring this.” He tapped the umbrella. “Damn nuisance. Women bless ‘em.”
“How are you, Henry?” I asked falling into step alongside him.
“Fine. More to the point, old thing, how’s life suiting you?”
I noticed his choice of words; there was no mention of my recent marriage. I began to feel annoyed but knew it was foolish to feel so. Nevertheless, I stomped off like a spoilt child.
“Nice to see you, Henry. Got to go. See you around,” I said, turning back towards River house. “Tinker!”
The dog fell out of the undergrowth, rushed towards Henry who patted him, then bounded after me. My anger had cooled by the time I walked up the lawn towards the back porch but I realised that from the minute Leonora and I had said our vows, the relationship between Henry, Josie and myself had shifted to an uncomfortable impasse.
That night I dreamed I was in Venice again, sitting, as before, at a table in a restaurant near the Rialto Bridge. I was near enough to see the gondolas on the Grand Canal and saw a young girl with a cream hat and blue dress sitting in the back of one of them as she drifted towards me. I waited with baited breath to catch sight of her and as she came nearer, she removed her hat and turned towards me. It was Evelyn. Her cute smile and dark curls framing her face were almost too sad to bear. I awoke to feel my cheeks wet with tears.
The day Leonora was due to return from Italy, I woke early. I was to pick her up from Heathrow at 11.30 and could not settle, excitement at the prospect of seeing her again rose up inside me like champagne bubbles repressed too long by a well fitting cork. When the telephone rang, I rushed to answer it but was not as quick as Mrs Bates, who was in the hallway. Lifting the receiver, I heard her say. “I’ll see if I can find him.”
“Thank you, Mrs Bates, I’ll take the call on the extension,” I said, into the mouthpiece.
It was Leo.
“Abe it’s me. Would you mind awfully if I stayed here for another week? My aunt is very frail and I hate to leave her. I’ll be home on the same flight next week, I promise.”
The day slid downhill from that moment on. Alan Henderson called, there was a problem in the office and did I mind calling in. I picked up my laptop and with a heavy heart told Mrs Bates to leave something in the oven for me. “Just for one, is it, sir?” Mrs Bates asked, confirming a fact I’d long since suspected that she was not averse to listening in on the extension.
“That’s right, Mrs Bates. How clever of you to know,” I answered, the irony of my tone escaping her.
The problem in the office was minor, a document requiring my signature. I stopped short of pointing out he could have easily e-mailed it to me for my ratification, as I understood the reason behind his phone call. It was obvious he thought I needed some company, especially as during the conversation I’d explained that Leo had been delayed.
The day passed in a flash and I realised I’d almost forgotten the feeling of being needed in the work environment, as I’d already relinquished most of the administration to Alan. It was a refreshing change and I even contemplated working from the office more frequently. Of course I was forgetting that, once Leo returned, I’d be obsessed with her and the office would take second place.
That evening I stayed in the wine bar with Chip, drinking far more than I’d intended. However, I enjoyed chatting to him about future projects and concepts that were floating around in my mind like debris on the tide. I decided to give the Dorchester a ring and booked a room for a few days so that I could spend some time working at my office. It might help me to forget the emptiness of River House and meant I could have an early start in the morning, a perfect opportunity to work on a new project, without Leo my main distraction.
After making a few phone calls, I turned to Chip. “Are you in a hurry or shall I get us another bottle?”
“I’m not going anywhere, Boss. In fact I’m glad you’re not rushing off as it will give me an opportunity to talk over a few things with you.”
Since Alan and I had taken Chip on board I’d grown fond of the eager young man whose ambition was his driving force and who seemed unaware of his ability to get straight to the problem without preamble. We talked for a while about work related topics and as the wine flowed, I discussed the outline of the new software I’d named Orion, which I hoped would be an even bigger seller than Andromeda. For the first time in ages, I was excited at the prospect of working on a revolutionary concept, which would stretch my atrophied brain cells.
The more we talked, I felt the old feeling of adrenaline rushing through my veins and although alcohol aided its passage, I welcomed the sensation.
“I’m going to make a start over the next few days,” I said, trying to keep the excitement out of my voice.“ I’ll be in my office first thing in the morning. If Alan has nothing lined up for you why don’t you drop in and see how it’s progressing? You never know, I might be glad of your input.”
His face reddened, and I suspected not merely from the effects of the wine. I smiled, had I ever been as young and naïve as he? I decided that perhaps I had, which was why I recognised a little of my youthful self in Chip.
The initial stages of Orion progressed well and by the end of the week, I was sure the basis for production was in place. Admittedly I worked well into the night and Chip and I spent long hours mulling over production details and ironing out minor flaws in the programme.
Lying in my hotel bedroom on Saturday morning, I felt pleased with the results of my week’s work. Although most of the structure of Orion had been developed years before, whilst I was married to Evelyn, it was still immensely satisfying to bring the idea to fruition.
I hadn’t heard from Leonora for two days. As a rule I’d have rung her mobile but I’d been so absorbed in the complexities of
work that by the time I tried to phone her, I realised it was far too late. I decided to take a shower and then ring Leonora the following morning. But as it turned out, before I could make the call, my mobile rang. It was the Estate Agent letting me know me know I could pick up the keys to the apartment. He said the paper work was just a formality and if I wanted to show my wife around next week there would be no problem.
This time Leo arrived on schedule and I felt that stomach churning pleasure as I saw her walking towards me through the arrivals lounge. She rushed into my arms and flung hers around my neck. The smell of her hair and the lingering perfume, I’d missed so much, drifted in the air and I took a deep breath before kissing her with a hunger that was simultaneously a pleasure and an embarrassment to us both.
“Let’s go home,” I said, tucking her hand into the crook of my arm as I pushed the trolley containing her luggage, which seemed to have grown in the space of the three weeks she’d been away.
Having Leo home once more was like renewing the excitement of our honeymoon. We acted like children enjoying a new toy. Laughter filled the house and once more and we had eyes for no one but ourselves. Mrs Bates was not impressed and after a few days took her leave by inventing yet another excuse to visit her sister.
I’m afraid we neglected Tinker shamefully; he was left to roam in the grounds for his daily exercise, as we were too preoccupied to take him for walks through the woods.
I realised also that my neglect of Henry and Josie was only partly due to my absorption with Leonora. The real reason I steered clear of them both lay with Josie’s antagonistic attitude towards Leo. Captivated by her, I failed to understand why anyone could feel such enmity where she was concerned.