'He promised to look after her and he kept that promise,' she protested, trying to continue talking to prevent Bishop hearing any sound from the intruders.
'By shutting her away on the top floor? Very generous, I must say!' 'All right, he wasn't perfect but next to you he looks like a saint.' 'I'll break you,' he promised. 'I'll break you for what you did to your husband, and for Mike.'
Mike. At the sound of his name she felt the despair threatening again, and in that brief moment of silence both she and Bishop heard the creak of the front door opening. He was instantly out of his chair, walking swiftly to the door, his hand moving towards his inside pocket, but he wasn't quite quick enough. The door was abruptly kicked in and in the entrance stood the large figure of Renato Bellini, gun in hand, while two equally powerful men stood solidly behind him.
'I've come for Lisa,' he said calmly, taking in the red mark that discolored one side of her face and the streaks down her cheeks where a few tears had made a path through the dust of the explosion.
'She can't leave,' protested Bishop, moving slowly backwards as the Italian advanced into the room. 'The police want to interview her.'
'Then they'll have to come to Italy to do it.'
'She isn't worth this!' he sneered. 'I doubt if even P2 can cope with the havoc she creates.'
'I'm not interested in what you think. She's coming, and what's more we're taking Rebekah with us.'
'I think the courts would feel she should stay with her sister and brother-in-law.'
'I'm surprised her brother-in-law wants her when she's the only witness to what he probably once considered the perfect murder!'
'That's precisely why she has to stay!' snarled Bishop, totally impotent as one of Renato's heavies skimmed their hands over his body, removing both his gun and the stiletto-style knife concealed inside the sleeve of his jacket.
'If she comes to Italy with us, she'll stay silent.'
'She'll stay silent if she stays with me! Even if I let the child go you're not having Mrs Gueras. I've waited a long time for this moment, and just because you lust after her it doesn't mean that I'm going to give her up. Find yourself another tart; there are plenty around, most of them more accomplished than her.'
Renato's smile was the most sinister sight Lisa had ever seen, and even Bishop was startled. His body tensed for what he assumed was going to be a physical attack and he silently cursed Steve's ineptitude in letting the men get into the house unobserved.
'I will now make myself clear,' said Renato, the smile never faltering. 'It is true that my family are masons, and as such we do have contacts here that are possibly not known to you.'
'I know every P2 member there is and you can call yourselves masons if you like. I prefer the term criminal.'
'No doubt it is a more familiar word in your vocabulary. As I was saying, we have enough contacts to make sure that within twelve months—the time it will certainly take you to sort out your late employer's affairs—there will be nothing left for you to take over. Not a casino, not a prostitute, not even one of your favourite sadomasochistic blue movies. We will move in on them all and there will be nothing you can do about it. Nothing!'
The blue stubble on Bishop's chin stood out against the ivory white of his skin as he took in the information. 'And if I let her go?' he asked at last.
'Then naturally you have it all. There is nothing of yours that we want. The only reason I came was to reclaim what was mine.'
'I told Neal to leave your bank's gold alone but he was too busy chasing after your fancy piece to listen.'
'At least you have the satisfaction of knowing you were right. Doubtless your own record will be totally unblemished. Emotional entanglements are unlikely to affect your judgement!'
For a few seconds they all waited while Bishop turned over possible ways of retaliating in his mind and was forced to reject them one by one. 'Take her!' he shouted at last. 'Take them both and get the hell out of here.'
As his bodyguards kept their guns trained on Bishop, Renato finally crossed to Lisa and put an arm round her. 'Come,' he urged. 'It is over now. We will leave here and you need never return to this country again. Rebekah is already in the car, and back at Giovanni's both Alexi and Jessica are ready to go. We will be in Italy by tonight.'
'The police want to talk to me.'
'The police will not make any trouble. They have been seen to.' 'Very law-abiding!' commented Bishop, then grunted as one of the men pushed the muzzle of his gun into his solar plexus.
'He said you didn't love me,' she muttered incoherently. 'I thought…'
'Please, come with me. It is time we left.'
Very slowly, like an old woman, she allowed him to lead her from the room. In the doorway he paused to look back at Bishop. 'If I ever set eyes on you in Italy,' he said bitterly, 'I will kill you.' Bishop stared back, his face expressionless, but just as Lisa turned away she accidentally caught his eye and knew that for him this wasn't the end. She climbed into the waiting Ferrari and sat shivering while Renato wrapped a wool rug round her knees and put his jacket around her shoulders. Then Rebekah uncurled from the corner of the back seat and cuddled close to her stepmother, offering the emotional warmth Lisa so desperately needed.
Renato sat on the other side of the little girl, his arm resting along the back of the seat with his fingers just touching Lisa's shoulder, and slowly they pulled away from the house. At the curve in the drive she glanced back and saw Bishop staring out of the front window. He was too far away for her to see his expression but she could imagine it, and despite everything Renato had said, and the knowledge that there was no logical reason why she should ever set eyes on Bishop again, she knew with bone-chilling certainty that she would. She knew too that until that moment she would never be entirely free of fear.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Nearly a year to the day after Neal's death, Lisa sat in the sun-drenched courtyard of Renato's villa in Portofino watching Jessica and Rebekah playing in the swimming pool. Behind her there was the soothing sound of a tiny fountain falling into the shell-shaped pond where Alexi was busy dabbling his hands, splashing at the surface of the water and laughing as the droplets splattered over the stone slabs and on to his mother's tanned back.
Dressed in a backless sundress with her hair long and loose on her shoulders, she looked years younger than the tense young woman who'd been welcomed so warmly into the heart of the Bellini family on her arrival from England.
Renato's mother had exclaimed with horror over her lack of curves, and spent several months trying to rectify the situation while his father—a man to whom love and marriage did not necessarily go hand-in-hand—seemed to accept her at once as his son's future wife, and treated her with touching old world courtesy.
Even now, when they were living in their own villa, she saw his parents at least once a week, and his mother more often because she was a doting grandmother, continually bringing presents for Luciano and Lisa's own children.
Once, when Lisa expressed surprise that she treated the children alike, the woman's eyes had widened in astonishment. 'They are all bambini!' she exclaimed, and that was explanation enough.
Lisa knew she'd never tire of the beautiful countryside. The clear blue creeks wandering among the olive trees, yews and sea pines; and her favourite walk to the tiny Church of San Giorgio with its wonderful view from the terrace where she could sit for hours soaking up the sun.
Jessica had improved so much in the year that people didn't always realise she was any different from other highly-strung children.
Renato had accomplished much of this himself. His patience was never-ending, and when Lisa despaired he assured her that eventually her daughter would find a place in life.
He had given Jessica the holding therapy himself for the first few weeks of their life in Italy, when Lisa had been too exhausted and emotional to manage herself, and his steady, unflappable presence gave her the first sense of security in her tense, ever-changing life. She re
sponded at first with hesitant gestures of affection, and then—when they were never rebuffed—with more open signs of trust. On her bad days it was still Renato who could soothe her quickest. The only thing that really set Jessica back these days was her own mother. When Lisa's mind refused to stop dwelling on her last image of Bishop, or after a night of disturbed sleep when she'd dreamt that Neal had returned for her, Jessica became hyperactive and difficult, reverting to rocking and banging her head against the walls of the villa. She was the barometer by which Renato judged Lisa's state of mind because she'd become expert at hiding her fears from him.
Her love for the Italian had deepened over the past year. He was the kindest man she'd ever met and when she lay in his arms, relaxing as his hands and mouth worked their usual magic on her, it was difficult to believe that he was the same man who'd held a gun to Bishop and cold-bloodedly murdered her husband. But he was, and this memory intruded on her contentment.
She loved him mentally and physically and she couldn't imagine life without him yet there was still something holding her back from total happiness. She felt that she was simply marking time; waiting for something to happen; something inevitable, arising from her past. Somehow she knew that she was going to pay a price for what had happened in England and for the happiness she was experiencing here in Italy. Until that moment was reached she refused to consider marrying Renato, turning his proposal aside with gentle humour as she tried to prepare herself for this unknown ordeal that lay ahead. An ordeal she felt sure she would have to face alone.
'Mama!' said Alexi, tugging at her cotton skirt. 'We go to the beach today?' She looked at his sturdy figure, his skin tanned by the Italian sun, eyes shining with an innocence never seen in Jessica's, and she marvelled again that he bore so little resemblance to his father. If she tried hard enough it was possible to see a similarity in the set of the mouth but generally there was nothing in him to remind her of Neal. His disposition was a different matter. Since he was usually overindulged by everyone it was easy for him to be sunny-tempered and he bestowed his smiles upon them all, already aware of his ability to charm. But when he was crossed, when Lisa or Renato disciplined him, then it was a different matter. He didn't scream or cry as most toddlers do; instead he turned his face away from whichever adult was opposing him and appeared to give in gracefully while inevitably managing to find a way round the restrictions, even if it took him two or three days.
He most certainly had his father's determination to get his own way, but at the moment he did it with charm and it was impossible to be angry with him for long because he was a tremendously affectionate boy. Renato asserted that their best hope of disciplining him when he was older lay in establishing such a loving relationship now that Alexi would do as they asked because he didn't want to upset them. Lisa hoped he was right.
'Why not swim in the pool with the girls? ' she asked lazily, picking him up and kissing his soft skin.
'Beach!' he insisted. 'I want Papa. Papa likes the beach.'
'Papa's away on business,' she said regretfully. She hated the times when his work took him away from the villa.
All the children called Renato 'Papa'. At first Lisa was worried that Luciano would mind, but he'd been delighted with his instant brother and sisters. All that worried him was that his father was living in mortal sin. He was terrified that Renato would die before he married Lisa. He listened to his father's assurances about God being understanding but knew that the priests and his grandparents didn't think him quite so benevolent.
I ought to take them to the beach, thought Lisa. It was easy to become lazy these days. She could sit in the sun and let her mind wander back, re-living her mistakes for hour after hour if she wasn't careful, and nothing was changed except possibly her present happiness. Sometimes she wondered if she'd be better if they weren't so rich and she didn't have servants doing everything for her. 'All right,' she conceded. 'After lunch we'll go to the beach.'
At that moment a small cloud passed over the sun and she gave a quick shiver but almost immediately it was warm again and she went inside to ask the cook for a picnic tea.
After their siesta, Rebekah, Jessica, Luciano and Alexi set off with Lisa for their private stretch of beach that was a mere three minute walk from the gates of the villa. She smiled at one of the guards who stood on duty twenty-four hours a day both here and in Milan. In Italy to be rich was to be a target for kidnapping and security had to be tight. It didn't give her the assurance it should have done. She knew that all the guards and cameras money could buy wouldn't be enough to stop whatever it was that she had to face.
The sand was light and silky beneath their feet, not like the sand of her holidays in England as a child, but the children didn't know anything different. Luciano and Alexi ganged up together and annoyed the girls as soon as they reached the beach . Rebekah secretly enjoyed it when Luciano chased her and threatened her with death from sea monsters or giant jellyfish because she knew that really he was very fond of her. Just the same, she pretended to be annoyed and a little frightened before taking Jessica's hand and leading her away to sit in the shade where they could pour sand into tiny cups and hold a pretend tea-party just as Luciano's grandparents did on feast days.
Lisa lay back on her sand mat and began to relax. The children were safe here and their privacy wouldn't be invaded because there were large signs all round the perimeter of the beach telling people in Italian, French and English that it was private property. She closed her eyes, listening to the chatter of the boys and the occasional giggle from Jessica.
'Mama, money quick!' cried Alexi a little later, hurrying up and accidentally kicking sand in her face.
'What do you want money for?' she asked lazily. 'Ice cream!'
'Where… ?'
'There's a man by the sign and he's selling ice cream. It's all right, he knows us. He told me to ask my mummy for the money.'
'That doesn't mean he knows us!'
'He said he knew me when I was a baby. He said, "Hello, Alexi," and gave a funny smile!'
Slowly she sat up, pushing her sunglasses into her hair and staring down the beach to where a man stood waiting in the heat of the afternoon sun. 'I'll go and get the ice creams,' she said quietly. 'You fetch Luciano and the girls and tell them all to wait here on the mat.'
'No! I want to come. I want… '
'Do as I say! ' She'd never sounded so angry with him before and his bottom lip trembled but he did as she'd asked and trotted off to round up the others.
It was a very small beach yet the walk to the water's edge seemed to take forever. She'd known who it was all along but only when she got within a few yards could she make out his face beneath the straw hat perched on top of the dark brown hair, now flecked with the odd strand of grey. He'd aged a great deal, she realised, far more than she or Renato.
'Surprised?' His voice was still as clipped as she'd remembered in her nightmares.
'No, I think I always knew that one day you'd come. You could say I've been waiting for you.'
'I hear you haven't married him.'
'My previous experiences of marriage didn't make me over-enamoured of the state! Speaking of which, how's Louise?'
'Dead.'
She remembered Louise's adoration of this man. Her golden beauty that she'd chosen to waste on him. 'How did she die? '
'She killed herself.' He could have been speaking of a stranger. 'Really?'
He gave a thin smile. 'Yes, she really did. She left the house one night just before Christmas and threw herself under a train. I'd say that was a pretty determined way to commit suicide, wouldn't you?'
'I'm sorry.'
'For her or for me?'
'For Louise. She must have been very unhappy.'
He shrugged. 'I suppose so. She'd had two miscarriages and for some reason that changed her. I didn't mind. I never wanted children but she did.'
'And what happened to Ruth?' Again he glanced out to sea, his eyes narrowing as he looked across the em
pty ocean. Lisa risked turning to the children and saw Rebekah standing tensely on the sand. She gestured towards the cliff path, hoping she'd get all the children away while Lisa kept Bishop talking.
'I've no idea,' he responded, now checking the cliffs behind them. 'I never heard from her after Neal died. She packed her things, walked out of her school and vanished. The police searched for a time but now she's just another missing person.'
'Didn't Louise worry about her?' 'She never mentioned her to me.'
'Why have you come?' she asked at last, seeing the children moving very slowly up the beach, pretending to play with their ball as they went.
He looked her straight in the face. 'For you, of course. I've come to kill you.'
'Any particular reason?' She was pleased by how calm she sounded but didn't dare turn round any more and prayed that Rebekah was getting them all away.
'Yes. Your handsome Italian lover doesn't keep his word. He and his fellow masons shopped us all along the line. Our drug ring's smashed, our casinos all closed. To cap everything they've arrested Steve and three other men for an armed robbery, and Steve's singing like the proverbial canary to save his skin. I had a fucking awful time getting out of the country.'
'Perhaps it's gone wrong because you didn't know how to run it.'
'I knew how to run it. I could run the entire operation with my eyes shut. I'd been doing it all the time you and Neal were married. No, it wasn't that. P2 didn't keep their word. As soon as you were safely away they systematically destroyed us. Fair enough. If they can't keep their word, I don't intend to keep mine.'
Her mouth was dry and her skin felt damp and cold with terror but she continued to keep her eyes locked on his, knowing he wouldn't want to be the first to look away.
'Don't you understand?' he repeated quietly. 'I've come to kill you.'
'I understand.'
'Why don't you try and get away?'
Betrayal Page 53