Angels of the Flood

by Joanna Hines

  ‘Fine,’ said Kate. ‘We went down to the river and swam. The water was freezing, but very refreshing—perfect for this hot weather.’

  ‘You should try it, David.’ Francesca knew her voice sounded wooden. It was so hard to act naturally when the person you were talking to thought you were crazy.

  ‘I’d love to,’ he said. ‘But unfortunately Kate and I have to leave after lunch.’

  Kate touched her lightly on the shoulder. ‘Some other time, maybe,’ said Francesca.

  Kate’s brief gesture of support had been a mistake. Mario was suspicious. He knew her too well and was sensitive to all her moods; he must know that a fundamental shift had taken place inside her. However hard she tried to look like the old Simona, she felt her new self insisting that everyone take notice. Mario forced himself to smile, that old, calculating smile, then said, ‘You both look… as if the swim has done you good. Ah, Annette.’

  Signora Bertoni had her arm through Dino’s as she walked in slowly from the terrace. She was concentrating too much on the task of walking in her delicate sandals to give any attention to the group watching her from the hall. Now that she was on the verge of breaking free, Francesca was able to recognize that her mother was a frail old woman whose mental faculties were slipping away, rather than the tormentor who had ruled her life for so many years.

  ‘Buon giorno, Mamma,’ said Francesca, every nerve taut with the effort of appearing normal. ‘Now you are here we can begin lunch.’

  She and Kate had reached the bottom of the stairs. Francesca resisted the temptation to stay close to Kate, and slipped her arm through David’s. ‘I want to hear all about the places you saw,’ she said as they moved towards the dining room. ‘Just think, we may end up neighbours. Wouldn’t that be great?’

  Kate and Mario followed. Once they were in the dining room, its windows open to let in the September warmth, Francesca went to stand behind her chair at the head of the table. David moved to her right. Mario walked round behind her and said softly, so that only she could hear, ‘Francesca, what’s going on?’

  She jumped, as though she’d been touched with a cattle prod, then drew in a deep breath and said quietly, ‘Don’t you mean Simona?’

  His hand closed round her upper arm, forcing her to turn towards him. ‘Simona, of course. How foolish of me.’

  She was thinking fast. With that sixth sense that never let him down, Mario must have guessed everything. She had to get away from La Rocca before he thought of a way to stop her. She didn’t know what he would come up with, but he was resourceful, and had always found a means of blocking her escape in the past.

  She looked across at Kate. ‘Kate,’ she said coolly. ‘Where’s that necklace you were wearing when we went down to the river?’

  Kate’s hand flew up to her throat. There was no necklace, but thank the Lord she obviously understood the significance of what Francesca was saying. ‘I—I must have left it by the river,’ she said.

  ‘That’s just what I was afraid of,’ said Francesca. ‘I’m sorry, but you’ll have to start lunch without us. Kate and I need to go back and look for it. We’ll only be five minutes.’

  She began to move into the hall, but Mario blocked her way. ‘Can’t it wait till later?’ he asked. ‘No one except us ever goes down to the river. Kate’s necklace will be quite safe.’

  ‘All the same,’ said Francesca. ‘I’d be easier in my mind…’

  ‘What’s so important?’ he asked.

  Kate said firmly, ‘It’s a pearl necklace that belonged to my mother. I’d hate anything to happen to it.’

  David was looking baffled. He said, ‘I don’t remember ever seeing you in pearls, Kate.’

  ‘A pearl necklace,’ said Mario. ‘No wonder Kate is concerned. I tell you what, Kate, I’ll drive you down myself.’

  ‘No,’ said Francesca. ‘I’m going.’

  ‘There’s no need to trouble—’ began Mario, his voice like steel.

  ‘I tell you, Mario, I—will—go!’ she blazed. She felt the last vestiges of Simona falling away from her as she squared up to him. There was a long silence, a silence that seemed to stretch endlessly, no one speaking, and then, more quietly, she repeated, ‘It’s no good, Mario. I’m going,’ and this time her words carried a different meaning altogether.

  ‘Going?’ His face was blank.

  ‘Yes, going.’ Dear God, the relief of speaking plain. She turned briskly to Kate. ‘Will you get my things for me, Kate? My passport’s in my bag. There’s no point in staying any longer.’

  ‘Passport?’ asked David.

  ‘Simona, for God’s sake, consider what you’re doing!’ Mario caught hold of her arms but she shook herself free.

  ‘Francesca!’ she yelled. ‘It’s Francesca, remember! From now on everybody gets to call me by my real name!’

  ‘What the hell?’ asked David. Francesca saw him move towards the doorway, as though intending to stop her by force. ‘Is this the delusions you were telling me about, Mario?’

  ‘David, stay out of this,’ said Kate.

  ‘You don’t understand,’ he said urgently. ‘She’s not right in the head and she’s bloody dangerous. This whole business has just been a way to get you here, so she can trap you.’

  Francesca gripped the back of the chair. If Kate believed what David was saying about her now… ‘Kate, please. Don’t listen to him.’

  Kate smiled, that generous smile Francesca had waited half a lifetime to see. ‘It’s okay, Francesca. He just can’t see the whole picture yet, that’s all.’

  Mario ignored them both. ‘Don’t do this to us,’ he pleaded with Francesca. ‘Don’t throw everything away just for a name. Christ, Simona, what’s the point? Just think for a moment, please, think before you act.’

  She laughed. Did he really imagine this was just a spur-of-the-moment whim? ‘Think? Think? I’ve had a whole lifetime to think this through and now I’ve made up my mind. There’s no way I’m turning back now and there’s nothing you can do to stop me. So don’t even try.’

  Mario rounded on Kate, his face contorted with fury. ‘You’re to blame for this, Kate! She was fine till you showed up.’

  ‘Don’t blame Kate. She’s helping me, sure, but unlike poor old Simona, who you’ve kept wrapped round your little finger all these years, Francesca Bertoni is going to make her own decisions.’

  ‘Will someone please tell me what’s going on,’ said David helplessly. No one even glanced in his direction.

  Annette was standing behind her chair, still leaning on Dino’s arm. Her head was tilted and she was sniffing the air, like an animal that scents danger. Now she said sharply, ‘Simona, what’s all this carry-on?’

  ‘I’m not Simona,’ she said firmly. ‘You know I’m not and I’m through pretending. I’m sorry, Mamma, but I couldn’t wait any longer. No one going to blame you. It’s too late for that.’

  ‘Not Simona?’ Her mother was looking around in anguish. ‘Not Simona? Then where’s my baby? What have you done with her?’

  ‘She died, Mamma, you know she did. She died in the accident. I’ve just pretended to be her, like you always wanted, but I can’t do it any longer. I’m Francesca.’

  ‘Francesca? But Francesca died… in that accident… when Kate…’ Francesca watched, horrified, while her mother’s eyes flickered round the table, then finally lit on Kate. Annette seemed to shrink visibly as she said, ‘Dino, help me please. It’s getting kind of hard to stand.’ You poor thing, thought Francesca, you’re just a pathetic old woman.

  ‘Of course, Mamma. This has been a shock for you.’ Francesca took hold of her mothers other arm and together she and Dino guided her to a chair.

  ‘Simona—’ began Mario.

  She flared up again. ‘Damn you, Mario! From now on I only answer to Francesca!’

  ‘Francesca?’ Annette looked up at her in bewilderment. ‘What’s going on? Are we going to be ruined, Mario?’ She was fiddling with the drawstring of her beaded bag. Th
en she said plaintively, ‘Damnation, I’ve brought the wrong bag with me. Go get the other one, Dino, the one with the dragon embroidered on it. It’s in my drawer. Well, go on then, don’t just stand there.’

  ‘He doesn’t understand you, Mamma.’ Francesca repeated her mother’s instructions in Italian. A faint look of comprehension spread across his placid face, the only time Kate had ever seen any expression there at all.

  ‘Yes, yes,’ said Annette petulantly, adding further orders in Italian. Dino left the dining room and his heavy footsteps could be heard as he went up the stairs.

  ‘I’ll fetch our bags too,’ said Kate.

  ‘You’re going?’ asked David. But Kate followed Dino without bothering to explain.

  Mario was talking to her now in Italian. ‘Mia cara, please. I don’t understand why you have to destroy everything we have built up together.’

  ‘Because it was all built on lies, Mario, don’t you understand that? And I can’t live a life of lies any longer. I want everyone to know the truth about me, about my family, no matter what.’ She turned to Kate who had reappeared in the doorway. ‘Shall we go?’

  ‘Where’s Dino?’ demanded Annette. ‘Where’s my bag?’

  ‘He’s coming, Mamma.’ Francesca tried to speak gently, but she was unable to keep the excitement out of her voice. ‘I’m going away for a few days, but I’ll be back again soon, I promise.’

  ‘I don’t want you. I want Dino.’

  ‘And what do you think you’re going to do now?’ asked Mario, standing stiffly in front of the door. ‘What do you plan to do with this great truth of yours?’

  ‘I’ll tell you when I’ve made up my mind.’

  ‘When you get back?’ He laughed bitterly. ‘I won’t be here.’

  ‘Well, then…’

  ‘Please, mia cara.’ He was pleading with her. ‘Don’t do this thing.’

  ‘I have to.’

  ‘I won’t let you.’

  ‘You can’t stop me.’

  ‘No? My dearest love.’ Suddenly his voice ached with tenderness. ‘How will you manage without me?’

  Francesca felt herself falter. It had been her Achilles heel all through: according to this version of her story she was a frail and damaged person who could never survive without him. Kate spoke up: ‘Francesca will manage just fine! She doesn’t need you any more, Mario.’

  He turned on her in a fury. ‘She will, eh? And what makes you such an expert all of a sudden?’ He snatched Francesca’s case from her hand and said, ‘I’m not letting you go! Okay, then, you want the truth? You really want the truth?’

  ‘Stop it, Mario,’ said Kate. ‘Francesca’s coming with me.’

  ‘You want the truth?’ he demanded again. Francesca stared at him. ‘You’re tired of lies and you want everyone to know what really happened? Are you sure?’

  Francesca felt a kind of paralysis creeping through her limbs. Then she nodded slowly.

  Mario hesitated. ‘Please, don’t make me do this.’

  Francesca said, ‘Hand me back my case, Mario. We’re leaving.’

  He turned on her. ‘Oh no, it’s not that easy! You think you can walk away, just like that? My God, I’ve spent my whole life protecting you from the truth and now this is all the thanks I get.’

  ‘Forget it Mario, I don’t need that kind of protection any more.’

  ‘No? So how come you’ve been telling yourself lies all this time?’

  ‘I haven’t…’

  ‘You were there, mia cara, you know what really happened.’

  ‘But—’

  ‘You were there when Simona was killed. You saw the whole thing.’

  Francesca faltered. She said, ‘But you told me—’

  ‘I told you what you wanted to hear. That Simona had died in an accident. Well, it wasn’t an accident. It was deliberate.’

  ‘What are you talking about?’

  ‘Ask your mother,’ said Mario. ‘She can tell you. She was there too.’

  ‘Mamma?’ whispered Francesca.

  Her mother seemed to have shrunk into herself. She looked like a hunted animal as she fumbled with her two little bags, the beaded one and the silk one with the embroidered dragon that Dino had just brought down.

  ‘Why d’you think she went so crazy after Simona died?’ asked Mario contemptuously. ‘Wouldn’t any woman go mad when she’d been responsible for the death of her own daughter?’

  ‘Stop it, Mario!’ Francesca felt suddenly cold. ‘Don’t say those things! You can’t stop me from leaving, no matter what you tell me.’

  ‘I thought you wanted the truth!’ he said in triumph.

  ‘It’s madness. Why would my mother have wanted to kill Simona?’

  ‘Oh, that part was unintentional. She was trying to kill Kate.’

  ‘Kill me?’ asked Kate.

  ‘Yes. Poor Simona just got in the way’

  Francesca was shaking with horror as Kate turned to her and said, ‘Francesca, don’t listen to him. He’s only saying this to upset you and stop you from leaving. Let’s go before he comes out with any more crazy lies.’

  ‘It’s the truth,’ said Mario. ‘Ask her.’

  They all looked at Annette. She was sitting on the chair, the two bags in her lap, tears streaming down her face. ‘He said it was the price,’ she muttered helplessly.

  ‘I don’t believe you,’ said Kate stubbornly.

  ‘Why the hell would anyone want to kill Kate?’ asked David.

  ‘That’s all I ever got out of her,’ said Mario. ‘“He said it was the price.” God knows what she meant by it. Maybe she was just mad at Kate for stealing both her daughters. Maybe there was another reason.’

  Suddenly Francesca felt as though she was going to faint. Kate went to put her arms round her. Leaning on her, Francesca murmured, ‘Mamma was in the Mercedes.’

  ‘You see,’ said Mario cruelly, ‘you do remember after all.’

  ‘So how did Simona die?’ asked David.

  Mario was watching Francesca as he began to speak. ‘Well, then I’ll tell you, since suddenly the truth is what we want. When Kate and I left in the Topolino, Francesca and Simona were following right on the Vespa. One Vespa. Francesca, you were sitting on the back. You tried to overtake. God knows why, I’ve often wondered. It was that part when the ground falls away steeply to the left. One misjudgement and you’d have gone over the edge. I pulled over hard, and that’s when Kate was thrown forward, and hit her head. She was out cold. I stopped the car and Francesca, you and Simona pulled up a little way ahead. You must have heard the crash. You started coming back. All I could think of was getting Kate to a hospital. But then Annette drove up behind us in the Mercedes and smashed into the back of my Topolino. I thought it was an accident, but when she reversed her car and smashed into the Top a second time, I realized she was ramming my car deliberately. It had begun to roll. Simona was hysterical. She ran forward to try to stop her mother doing it again. And I think, maybe the third time it happened, Annette wanted to stop, but she must have been confused and her foot hit the accelerator instead of the brake. I know she was screaming when her car ran into Simona. Simona was thrown up in the air and when she came down she fell across the windscreen of the Vespa. That was what almost severed her head from her body. You saw it all, Francesca. You were screaming, screaming, screaming, until I put you under. By the time you came round, I’d prepared a kinder version of events for you to take with you into your life. And you know what? You never questioned my version, not once. So that, Francesca, is the precious truth I’ve carried for you all these years and protected you from. Now, tell me, is that really what you want the world to remember your family for, now and for ever?’

  His question was calm, almost matter of fact. He seemed drained of all emotion. Francesca didn’t answer. For the first time since it happened, with absolute and brutal clarity, she was reliving every moment of her sister’s tragedy.

  ‘Jesus,’ said David.

  Mario s
ighed. ‘Because, if you still want the truth to be known, I won’t stand in your way. I thought I was doing the best for you back then, the best for us both, but maybe I got it wrong. I know it came between us. Just tell me what you want, ’. I’ll still help you if I can.’

  Francesca let out a sob. It was the first time he’d called her that since the horrors began. Suddenly she was afraid of losing him, not because she might not survive without him, but, on the contrary, because she was concerned for his survival in a world without her. ‘But what will you do?’ she asked.

  ‘Oh, I can vanish easily, if I have a bit of warning. I’m sure you’ll not grudge me that.’ He smiled wearily. ‘There’s no need to worry about me.’

  ‘And my mother?’ She gestured towards Annette.

  ‘Simona’s death was closed and forgotten long ago. And as for the fraud, well—no one can touch her now. Just look at her. Don’t you think she’s suffered the torments of the damned every day since it happened?’

  They all looked at the old woman who was muttering incoherently to herself and plucking at the neck of her embroidered bag. ‘Oh, Mamma!’ Francesca was torn between disgust and pity. ‘Why did you do it?’

  ‘Do what?’ asked Annette. ‘We were only lovers for a short time. He adored me—they all did—but I got rid of him before you came back.’

  ‘What lover? Mamma, what are you talking about?’

  ‘Mario,’ said the old woman. ‘He and I were—’

  ‘Stop it, Annette,’ said Mario sharply. ‘You’re making this up. Don’t listen to her, Francesca.’

  ‘Don’t worry, I won’t. God, what a crazy idea. As if you and she could possibly… She’s just trying to shift the attention away from what she’s done. Ugh.’ For a moment Francesca thought she was going to be sick. ‘You killed her, Mamma. It was your doing.’

  ‘What’s going on?’ said the old woman, looking round in confusion. ‘It’s all that woman’s fault, all of it. When she came before, I lost my baby girl, and now she’s here and you’re talking about leaving. It’s all her doing.’ Suddenly she looked directly at Kate, her harsh voice stronger than Francesca had heard it in years. ‘But you’re not getting away with it a second time. Oh no. Not this time.’