by Joanna Hines
‘That was Mario,’ said Simona as she put down the phone. She seemed nervous. ‘He says they’ve seen Bella Vista but there’s a couple of other places he thought David would like to see.’
‘What is he, an estate agent?’
‘He just likes to be helpful. They’ll be back at lunchtime.’
Briefly, Kate wondered if this whole thing was being set up just to keep her at La Rocca, but then she reminded herself that however paranoid she was, there was no way David was a part of the Bertoni intrigues. And Dino had gone. And it was hot and humid. ‘Okay,’ she said grudgingly, ‘you win. Let’s go down to the river, but you’ll have to lend me a swimsuit. I could use a swim.’
Ten minutes later, Simona drove in her open-top car almost to the bottom of the drive. They parked, then cut through the scrub until they reached the public road, crossed it and followed a path down to a shingle beach. Trees came down to the water on both sides. ‘My sister and I used to come down here when we were teenagers,’ said Simona. ‘It was the only chance we had to get away from everyone. It’s completely private.’
‘Doesn’t anyone else come here to swim?’
‘This is still our land, so they’re not supposed to. The students at the Fondazione always use the pool near the villa, but I guess local people do come here sometimes. Yes, look.’ She stooped and picked up a beer can and a crumpled cigarette packet. ‘What pigs people are.’
The beer can and the cigarette packet were the only signs of life. Apart from the occasional car passing unseen along the road above them, there was nothing but sparse birdsong and the swiftly moving river—no houses, apart from La Rocca and the Villa Beatrice, for miles around. Both sides of the river were densely wooded. It was beautiful, but also, Kate thought, claustrophobic.
They were standing side by side looking across the river when Simona said quietly, ‘She always seems very close to me here. That’s why I wanted you to come.’
Kate shivered. Some spirit in this secret spot made her uneasy. She slipped off her shoes, went to sit on a boulder a little distance away and dipped her feet in the water. It was icy cold and the ripples made her feet look pale and distorted.
Simona followed and crouched down close by. She said, ‘I came down here a lot when I was planning the Fondazione. For years I’d been wondering what to do with my uncle’s money—I wanted to use it in a way she would have approved of. I haven’t said this to anyone before, but you were her friend, Kate, so you’ll understand. She’s been by my side through the whole enterprise; I could never have achieved what I did without her help.’
‘Why do you have to put yourself down?’ asked Kate. ‘The Fondazione was your idea and you had the courage and the vision to set it up. No one else did that.’
‘But I couldn’t have done it on my own.’
‘Well, I expect Mario was a help. But the whole thing was your baby.’
‘Was it?’ Simona picked up a small pebble and threw it into the river. ‘I’m not so sure about that. Sometimes it feels as though, when my sister died, a part of me died too and a part of her became me. Or some of me became her. As though our spirits merged and instead of being two people we’re now one.’
Kate looked at her to see if she was joking. Her heart sank: Simona was totally sincere. She sighed and said, ‘Simona, that’s not how it happens.’
‘How can you be sure? I know that when she died I stopped being just me, just a single person, and became me and her together. That’s why I named the Fondazione after her, so both our names would have equal prominence.’
‘But that’s not right, Simona. You were the one with the idea and you put it into practice. You should take the credit for what you’ve achieved.’
‘But why shouldn’t she have some of the credit too?’
Kate didn’t answer. Simona was so determined to cling onto the fantasy of her omnipresent sister, trying to reconnect her with reality was an impossible task. She said, ‘I’m going in for a swim.’
‘I’ve brought you a swimsuit.’
‘Don’t bother.’
Kate found she was reluctant to borrow anything belonging to Simona and besides, this patch of river was completely private. She stripped quickly down to her pants and walked into the water. The pebbles were painful underfoot and as soon as the water was over her knees she crouched down and let the water carry her. It was cold, fast-moving and deliciously refreshing. She plunged her head under the surface but as soon as she emerged, Simona was in the water beside her.
‘Stay on this side,’ Simona warned. ‘The current is fastest under those trees. We can swim upstream to the corner and then let the river carry us back down.’ As Kate began to swim with slow, steady strokes, Simona swam alongside her and said, ‘You remember what Francesca was like, Kate. She was always such an idealist, not like me.’ The current was strong enough to make their progress upstream very slow. Simona stayed close. ‘All I was interested in was clothes and boys and having a good time, not that I had a clue how to do it. She wanted to help people; that’s why she went to Florence. She didn’t care about the dirt and the hardship.’
Kate would have preferred to swim in silence, but this was too much. ‘So?’ she protested. ‘Francesca wasn’t the only one, you know. Hundreds of people went to help out after the flood.’
‘But it was different for her,’ insisted Simona. ‘You saw what the Villa Beatrice was like. And our childhood wasn’t like other people’s. We never even went to school. No one ever expected us to do any kind of work, let alone working in mud and filth and all the rest of it. All our family ever thought about was money and keeping up appearances, but Francesca wasn’t like them. She had ideals!’
Kate realized that Simona’s teenage hero-worship for Francesca had been frozen by the tragedy of her early death. Had she lived, Simona would no doubt have come to see her as she was. Instead, the cult of the blessed Saint Francesca was invincible.
‘It wasn’t such a big deal, Simona,’ she said. It was still hard to make any headway against the current, but slowly they were moving away from the shingle beach where they’d left their clothes. ‘Everyone has ideals when they’re twenty. Just because she’d had a privileged upbringing, that didn’t make her any different from everyone else.’ They had reached the bend in the river where the water was so shallow Kate grazed her knees on the pebbles and came to a halt, sitting half submerged as she turned to Simona and said crossly, ‘If Francesca told you it was all heroic self-sacrifice in the Arno mud, then that was just bollocks. She was having the time of her life, same as everyone else.’
‘Are you telling me she didn’t care?’ demanded Simona angrily. ‘Because that’s just not true! She did care, she cared passionately! She wasn’t greedy and selfish and—’
‘Well, she wasn’t bloody Mother Teresa either. Sure she cared about what had happened, everyone did, but she had fun too.’ Simona looked as if she was about to protest again, so Kate went on quickly, ‘And if you really want to know the truth, half the time she was a right royal pain in the butt.’
Simona gasped. ‘What do you mean?’
Kate hesitated. She’d never meant to put Francesca down, but what the hell, if Simona was burdened with some crushing posthumous inferiority complex, then maybe Kate was doing her a favour by injecting a dose of reality into her memories. ‘Oh, I don’t know,’ she said vaguely. ‘It was little things mostly. She just had trouble fitting in with everyone else. She took it all too seriously. I guess it was her upbringing, I don’t know.’
‘But she was your friend!’ Simona sounded horrified at the criticism.
‘Yes, I know, and I loved her. But in the real world, Simona, even your closest friends aren’t perfect.’
Something about the way Simona was looking at her made Kate uneasy. ‘I’m swimming back,’ she said, launching herself into the deeper part of the water.
‘Did you really love her?’ Simona splashed in after her.
‘Of course I bloody did!’
‘Watch out!’ yelled Simona. ‘Stay over this side!’
‘I’m fine!’ shouted Kate, savouring the tug of the river as it bore her downstream. The next moment, as the current caught her, she realized she was far from fine. She struck out strongly for the bank where she’d left her clothes, but the river spun her past.
‘Kate!’ Simona’s voice was following her. ‘Swim to the other side and catch the branch! I’m coming too!’
Kate was being carried along by the water and almost missed it, but just in time she saw the low branch up ahead and caught hold of it, nearly wrenching her arms out of their sockets as the water tried to carry her further downstream.
‘Now work your way towards the shore!’ yelled Simona.
Kate did what she was told and within moments she was in the gloomy shadows where the water was dark and tranquil. Simona had flung herself into the current after Kate, but with the confidence of long practice she caught hold of the overhanging branch easily and handed herself along to join Kate in the shadows.
‘Now what?’ asked Kate. Her teeth were chattering.
‘Did you really love her?’
‘I already told you, didn’t I?’ said Kate angrily. The shock of losing control in the river had left her feeling raw and exposed.
‘Even though she was a pain in the butt?’ asked Simona, her eyes shining.
‘Oh, for Christ’s sake, all my best friends are pains in the butt. Do you mind telling me how we get back to the other side?’
‘It was a good time, wasn’t it?’
‘Yes. It was magic’
Simona had worked her way very close to her in the gloom under the overhanging tree. Her hair was plastered against her skull and her skin was glistening with water, making her look sleek and glossy as an otter, her long eyes accentuated in the dappled light. She said, ‘It’s true, isn’t it, Kate? You remember it too. Those weeks in Florence were the best weeks of my life.’
‘You mean Francesca’s life,’ corrected Kate automatically, and then the realization hit her with such force that she nearly let go of the branch. She stopped speaking.
And stared.
The woman’s face so close to her own in the dappled light, the woman with the features of Simona, so similar to Francesca’s and yet so subtly different, blurred over. In the fuzzy gloom of half-seeing, Simona’s remembered face dissolved and reformed. Now it was Francesca’s eyes staring back at her, Francesca’s mouth drawn back in that hesitant smile. Older by many years, but aged as only Francesca could have aged.
‘The best weeks of my life,’ the woman said again.
Kate’s limbs went numb with shock. This time she let go of the branch and would have floated back into the current if the other woman hadn’t caught her by the arm. ‘Careful, Kate,’ she said in a voice that had never been Simona’s. ‘Drowning’s all right, but it’s not like the real thing.’
Kate struggled back to grab onto the branch. ‘Francesca?’ The question came out as barely more than a croak.
She nodded. ‘You do recognize me, don’t you, Kate?’ And then, when Kate didn’t answer, her eyes darkened and she said urgently, ‘Tell me you know it’s me! Please, just say you know who I am!’
‘Jesus!’ breathed Kate, too winded to say anything more.
‘Please, Kate.’ The woman’s words were choked with sobs. ‘I’ve held on to this so long it’s driven me halfway to crazy and back, but if you believe me… just say my name. Please.’
Kate was clinging on to the branch as if her life depended on it. Suddenly that few feet of smooth bark seemed like the only sure thing in the world. She blinked and tried to return to the reality she’d been living in until a minute ago, but it was impossible. That world had vanished, raced away in the strong current of the river. There was only one person she’d ever known who looked and sounded like the woman in the water beside her.
‘Yes,’ she said. ‘You’re Francesca.’ Her teeth were chattering. ‘Oh my God, I don’t believe it!’ And then, seeing the other woman’s horrified expression she said quickly, ‘But I do believe you. It’s okay, Francesca, deep down I think perhaps I’ve known all along.’
What was she saying? She tried to cling onto the familiar and asked in a shaking voice, ‘Now, Francesca, would you please tell me how we get back to our clothes?’
Chapter 38
Future Perfect
BY THE TIME THEY’D looked over Bella Vista and were headed towards a converted school house in a nearby village, David and Mario were discovering they enjoyed each other’s company after all. They were in no rush to return to La Rocca, so they stopped for a leisurely drink in the village square.
The beer was cool and refreshing. David, sitting at a table in the shade, watched two old ladies with aprons tied round their enormous hips, loaves of freshly baked bread poking out of their baskets, who were catching up on the day’s gossip. An old man walked slowly down the street with his grandson, stopping to exchange a few words with everyone they passed. There was a sense of rhythm and dignity to the lives he was glimpsing, and to an outsider like David it seemed a rich and satisfying life. A future was forming itself in his mind, a future in which he created beauty from old stones and terraced walks, where he was greeted daily by the local shopkeepers, ate in the shade of a well-grown vine and gained a reputation for lavish hospitality with his daughters and friends.
He drank his beer, then said, ‘You could make a damn good life in a place like this.’
‘Yes.’ Mario looked around at the activity of the square. He narrowed his eyes, trying to see what David saw, then said quietly, ‘I envy you, David.’
‘Why?’
‘Because you have the chance to make a new start when most people are thinking about retirement and growing old.’
‘Would you like to start afresh somewhere else? What could be better than the life you have?’
Mario didn’t answer right away. He was looking thoughtful, then he grinned suddenly and said, ‘Canada. If I could choose, I would go to live in Canada.’
‘Are you out of your mind?’ David assumed he was joking. ‘Have you any idea what the climate’s like there? And what on earth has Canada got over a place like this?’
Mario shrugged. ‘A new beginning,’ he said.
‘But…’ David was temporarily lost for words.
‘Do you think Kate would like to live here too?’
‘We’d have to ask her.’
‘You’re right. No point trying to guess what women want. There is another place you might like to see, but it’s quite a way from here,’ said Mario. ‘If you’re serious, we could have lunch there too.’
‘I don’t know. We told them we’d get back by noon.’ David was already feeling bad about leaving Kate in the lurch so long after she’d made it clear she didn’t want to be there on her own. He’d been angry about the row, but knew he had to take some of the blame for it himself. He always said things he regretted after too many drinks.
‘We’d be back by three,’ said Mario. ‘Plenty of time for you and Kate to get back to Florence by evening.’
‘Okay then,’ said David. After all, where was the harm? And he really was beginning to think he might to settle in a place like this.
‘You know,’ said Mario as they began walking back to the car, ‘I envy you because of Kate, too. It’s not often you get a second chance with someone.’
David nodded; ‘Kate’s pretty special. I hope I don’t blow it this time. What about you and Simona?’ he asked. He liked knowing how people fitted together and he’d been puzzled by their obvious closeness. Even their antagonism was like the antagonism of a long-married couple.
‘We are… it is hard to explain. I was married but… Simona has always been the most important person for me…’ Mario hesitated. Their discussion was moving beyond
the usual conventions of acquaintances and into territory he’d never yet discussed with anyone.
‘She doesn’t feel the same way?’
Mario paused, his hand on the roof of his car. He said quietly, ‘Years back, I did her an injury,’ he said. ‘I think, the way she looks at it, I betrayed her. What happened has tied us together, so that neither of us could ever really break free, but also it put a barrier between us. That barrier has never gone away.’
David assumed he was talking about sexual infidelity. He said, ‘Hell, Mario, no one’s perfect. Even Simona can’t hold a grudge for ever.’ Though in David’s opinion Simona was a neurotic lady and the only real question in his mind was why Mario had stuck by her for so long.
‘Your door’s not locked,’ said Mario, opening his car. ‘A nonexistent crime rate is another advantage of these sleepy little villages.’ When they were both seated and Mario had switched on the ignition, he asked casually, ‘So what was your real reason for coming here with Kate?’
‘Didn’t she tell you?’ asked David, without thinking. ‘Simona sent her some pictures to be restored. They arrived via a Florentine dealer, so in theory they were anonymous. But Simona had added coded messages to each one. Ingenious, in their way—or devious, depending on how you look at it. Anyway, Kate realized where they must be coming from, so she decided to come over and find out what was going on.’ While he was talking, David felt a twinge of unease, remembering Kate had told him not to mention this to anyone. He dismissed his anxiety—there couldn’t be any harm in Mario knowing.
‘What kind of messages?’ Mario still had his hand on the ignition.
Something in his tone made David wary of further indiscretion. He said vaguely, ‘Oh, I can’t remember the details now. I don’t suppose they meant anything.’
Mario glanced at his watch. ‘David, I apologize. I have run out of time. I just remembered a junior colleague is phoning me at one o’clock about a patient who’s due to be discharged. We will have to drive back to La Rocca at once.’