Delayed Death (Temptation in Florence Book 1)

by boeker, beate

  "He weighs a ton." Emma gasped.

  "Don't drop him." Carlina tottered forward on her high heels and kicked open the old door to the bedroom.

  They both heaved a sigh of relief when they placed him onto his bed. The mattress sagged in the middle.

  "We have to take off his shirt and pants." Carlina felt sick.

  "What? Why?"

  Carlina held onto the brass bed-frame to stop herself from shaking. "How likely is it that he goes to bed, dressed in his best suit for your wedding?"

  Emma glanced at her and pulled her slim eyebrows together. "Your face is green."

  Carlina pressed her hand to her mouth. "Ugh." She ran to the bathroom.

  When she came back several minutes later, she had to place one hand on the wall to assure herself that something firm existed.

  "I've done it." Emma tucked a corner of the cotton bedspread behind Nico's shoulder and straightened. "We can go now." She looked cool and composed, as if she undressed the dead every day.

  "Where did you put his trousers?"

  Emma made a vague move with her hand. "They're over there."

  Carlina willed herself to leave the support of the wall and crossed the room. "We have to hang them up. Grandpa was pedantic. He would never have thrown his best trousers across a chair like this."

  Emma sighed. "Maybe he felt ill already."

  "No way."

  "Oh, all right." Emma picked up the trousers and folded them along the crease, then smoothed them over the back of the wooden chair in the corner.

  "I've forgotten my shawl." Emma left the room without closing the door. "I'll just run upstairs to get it. And I'll open the curtain in the kitchen so nobody will wonder. Don't forget your phone. It's still on the table. Please hurry." Her last words were drowned out by the clattering of her high heels on the floor.

  Carlina folded Nico's white shirt and placed it next to the trousers. She glanced one last time around the room, taking care not to look at the shrunken figure beneath the bedspread, then she closed the bedroom door behind her. For an instant, she leaned against the door, her hot brow pressed against the smooth wood. This is the biggest mistake of your life.

  "Carlina? Are you coming?"

  Carlina straightened. "Sì, sì."

  II

  "Where's father?" Carlina's mother sidled along the pew closer to her daughter. Her long blue skirt twisted around her legs, and she pulled it free with an impatient tug.

  "Ssshhh." Carlina placed a finger on her lips and pointed at the altar where Emma and Lucio stood in front of the priest.

  Fabbiola stood on tiptoe and brought her mouth to her daughter's ear. "Why were you so late?" Her perfume smelled of lily-of-the-valley.

  "I'll tell you later." Carlina stared straight ahead, her back stiff. Stop pestering me. Please.

  "Where's your grandfather?" Fabbiola poked her in the ribs.

  Sweat formed on Carlina's brow. She lowered her voice so only Fabbiola could hear her. "He didn't want to come."

  "Why not?" Fabbiola's voice rose.

  Aunt Maria, seated in the pew in front of them, turned her head and frowned. The three gigantic feathers adorning her hat wiped across Carlina's face and tickled her on the nose.

  Carlina sneezed.

  "Be quiet," Fabbiola whispered. "You're disturbing the service."

  The priest turned to the congregation. "Dear sisters and brothers in the Lord, let us now sing hymn 232, the Golden Gates of Paradise."

  Amid the rustling of book pages, Fabbiola poked her daughter again. "You're hiding something, Carlina. Out with it."

  Carlina took the folded program and waved it in front of her face. "It's hot in here." Thank God her dress was cut low on the front and back.

  "Caroline."

  Oh, God. Now she was Caroline instead of Carlina. Two more minutes and she would be Caroline Arabella. Desperate, she bent to her mother's ear. "He said he felt bad vibes." The organ started to play the first notes.

  "Bad vibes?" Fabbiola's blue hat wobbled. "But he had gotten over the bad vibes!"

  "Shh." Carlina placed a finger over her mouth. "You're disturbing the service." She took a deep breath and warbled together with the congregation. "Yes, the golden gates of paradise, of paradise, of . . ."

  "Caroline Arabella!"

  Carlina broke off in mid-paradise. "It came back."

  "What came back?" Fabbiola had painted her fingernails bright red to celebrate the occasion. They looked like fat drops of blood.

  Carlina averted her gaze. I'm not going to be sick again. "The bad vibe period is back."

  "Oh, Madonna."

  "Yes, the golden gates of paradise, of paradise, of paradise . . ." Carlina sang as loud as she could. Maybe her mother would get the message and stop talking.

  "Did he say this bad-vibe-thing in front of Emma?" Fabbiola's whisper penetrated the music.

  Carlina closed her eyes for a brief moment. "Yes."

  Fabbiola's brown eyes grew round. "I bet she threw a fit."

  That much at least is true. Carlina nodded and trilled a last high note. Too bad the song was so short.

  They all sat down, and for a minute, only the shuffling of feet, the rustle of clothes, and a cough from Uncle Teo filled the church.

  The priest opened his bible.

  "Did father feel all right?" Fabbiola directed a look of reproach at the priest who dared to interrupt her with the beginning of his sermon.

  "Never better." The words came out of her mouth before she could stop them. Carlina blushed. This is not the right moment for black humor, Carlina.

  "But--"

  Aunt Maria turned around again. Her black eyes swept over them with a mixture of reproach and curiosity. A wave of garlic aroma wafted into Carlina's direction.

  Carlina glared at her mother. "Not now, Mama. I'll tell you later."

  Fabbiola sighed, then shrugged. She looked at the priest for an instant.

  Carlina watched her from the corner of her eye with misgiving. She knew what was going to happen. It never took Fabbiola more than one minute to decide the priest wasn't interesting enough to keep her awake. Today, it took even less.

  Fabbiola grabbed her trusted cushion which was already waiting on the pew, slid lower, and placed it behind her head.

  Carlina suppressed a sigh. If she wasn't so short, she couldn't sleep in church. On the other hand, if she was taller, she might decide to stretch out on the pew in the middle of the service. Now that would be a sight. The thought brought a smile to her lips. At least she doesn't snore.

  She turned her gaze back to the priest. The huge altar, the life-size golden cross, and the flickering candles in five massive chandeliers made the man of God look small and unimpressive in spite of his white robes. But he has a soothing voice. A bit like Grandpa's. Carlina swallowed. I'm going to miss him. It was never boring with him around. She bit her lip. She was not going to cry. If she did, several family members would think she was crying because she wasn't married yet. She had better rustle up some clever answers to the inevitable questions that would come later.

  The priest droned on and on. He never seemed to change his text. Carlina felt as if she could soon hold the ceremony herself. How many Mantoni marriages had he conducted this year? Carlina counted back in her mind. Five? Six? The last one had been Angela and Marco's, three months ago. They had been the most beautiful couple she had seen so far. Not as sexy as Emma but classy and graceful. Marco has enough sex appeal for two, no matter if he's in a tux or a pair of jeans. Carlina could see his dark head two pews further down. He'll become a successful doctor, even if he's new to Florence. The women will come to him in droves.

  When the service was over, Carlina hid behind a column at the side. She didn't want to talk to anyone.

  At long last, the church had emptied, and only the priest remained. His steps echoed on the stone slabs as he went past her. Carlina forced herself to follow him. Her heart felt heavy. The portals of the Catholic church stood wide open,
and the September sun danced in dusty beams across the ancient wooden pews. A peal of laughter greeted Carlina as she arrived at the steps. She closed her eyes against the bright light and took a deep breath. The air smelled pure and clean, a welcome change to the heavy scent of incense in the church.

  "Please gather on the steps." Uncle Ugo waved his big camera and spread out his arms, shooing stray family members like sheep back into position. "Now smile!"

  Carlina stayed where she was, everything but her head hidden behind her fat Aunt Maria. Obedient, she smiled past the waving feathers on Aunt Maria's hat, but her gaze swept beyond the crowd.

  To her left, the lilac hills of Tuscany stretched in soft waves. From her position, she had an enticing view over Florence and its ancient center, down in the valley. The Duomo's vast dome gleamed in the sunlight, a rich gold, with the Campanile tower, spearing the sky with its slim elegance, by its side. The reddish color of the terracotta-tiled roofs all around them made the town look warm and inviting. Carlina's heart swelled with happiness. She loved Florence, its beauty, its busyness. She had fallen in love with it during her summer vacations as a child, but even when she had come to live permanently in Florence - a scared and sad thirteen-year-old - the magic had never abated. Maybe it's different if you're born here, then you don't see it as a gift. She looked at the faces next to her. Did anybody spare a glance for the town, sitting like a sleeping beauty at their feet? She caught her brother's eyes. Enzo had been six when they had moved from Seattle. Maybe he was more of an Italian than she was.

  Her brother waved. "Carlina!"

  She waved back but stayed where she was because their mother stood next to him. She had to keep an eye on her mother to make sure she kept her distance all day long. Fabbiola knew how to drag a secret out of her daughter.

  To Carlina's right, beyond the church grounds, five cypresses stood in a row like slim sentinels. A soft haze lingered in the air and softened their dark green. Summer was over, even if it was still warm enough to go in shirtsleeves. Behind them, the cemetery stretched down the sloping hill. It brought her back to ground with a thud. Grandpa was dead. She would return next week for the funeral service. Carlina stifled a sigh.

  Aunt Maria's feathers wiped across Carlina's face as she turned. "It'll be your turn soon, Carlina." Her small eyes blinked at her.

  Carlina, nodded, clenched her teeth and forced a smile. She backed up one step to avoid the feathers a third time.

  Alberta, her mother's eldest sister, appeared out of nowhere and glanced at Carlina from beneath her hideous green hat.

  Damn. She must have overheard Aunt Maria's remark.

  Aunt Maria turned away with a quick reflex that made Carlina bite down a smile. Then she steeled herself. Her aunt Alberta was famous for her vicious tongue.

  "You should stop chasing them all away, Carlina." Alberta pushed her hat higher so she could see better. "You scare men. Nobody wants an independent woman. I understand why Giulio broke off the engagement."

  I broke off the engagement. He didn't. Carlina wanted to sweep that stupid hat off Alberta's head. Besides, that was five years ago, so we can talk of a more recent scandal now.

  Alberta chose not to notice Carlina's stormy silence. "You should try to be a bit more understanding. You're not getting younger, you know. At thirty-five, you're on the verge of becoming a confirmed spinster." Her false smile stretched the wrinkled skin above her lips.

  "Thirty-two," Carlina said through clenched teeth.

  Alberta waved. "'Whatever. My Angela now, she found a wonderful husband." She gave a sentimental sigh. "But then, she's a beauty."

  And she knows it. Carlina looked beyond her aunt. I want to take out my Vespa and go for a ride. The vine leaves will be red by now, and the earth smells so rich this time of the year.

  Her aunt scrutinized her. "You don't look much like the other girls in the family." She sniffed. "Must be the father."

  Enough was enough. "I don't have a tongue like a steel knife either, which seems to be another family characteristic." Carlina pretended a smile and hoped it would come out serene.

  Carlina could tell by Aunt Maria's heaving shoulders that she chuckled.

  Alberta turned red. "I'm going to talk to your mother about your manners." She moved her hat once again. It now looked like a crooked egg. "Where's father?" Her voice carried over the crowd. "I haven't seen him at all. Your mother said I should ask you."

  Several people looked around.

  Carlina squared her shoulders. "He decided to stay at home."

  "What?" Alberta frowned so hard, her face looked like a wrinkled walnut. "He's becoming very odd."

  He always was odd. And a dear.

  "Why on earth didn't he want to come?"

  "The bad vibe period has come back. He said it would be safer to stay at home." The more often she said it, the more it sounded like the truth.

  "But he had left that period!" Alberta pressed her lips together. "These past months, he only talked about the bad past catching up with us."

  "Really?" Carlina pretended she had never heard about Nico's latest tic. "What event from your past did he mention?"

  Alberta pulled herself up to her full height. "Nothing that concerns you."

  Bravo, Grandpa. I hope you rattled her, even if you invented it all. Carlina nodded a cool dismissal and pretended to see someone on the far side of the crowd. "I have to go. See you later, Alberta."

  The rest of the day, she dodged her mother and changed the subject whenever someone asked her about Nico. Every time she caught Emma's gaze, she wondered how her cousin could act as if no cloud had ever appeared on her horizon. Emma seemed serene and happy, poised and in control of herself. But Emma is a very focused woman. Her feelings are never all over the place. Carlina didn't dare to sigh, though she felt like it, but she'd had enough commiserating glances for one day.

  At a quarter to nine, she dropped into her chair at the festive dinner table with a feeling of relief. The worst was over. Dinner, some dancing, and she could go home. Tomorrow . . . no, she wouldn't think of tomorrow. She would--

  "Oh, hello," a dark voice said above her.

  Carlina looked up in surprise. "Hello."

  Angela appeared and took her husband by the arm. "This is Caroline, Marco. She's my cousin."

  "We've met." Carlina smiled at Marco and got up to place the obligatory family kisses on his cheeks. He smelled good, of cedar wood and something else she couldn't place.

  "I'm sorry." A smile crept into the corner of his mouth. "It's a bit hard to remember all the names, though I do remember your face." He held her chair and waited until she was seated, then helped his wife and sat down. "There seem to be so many cousins around."

  "There are." Carlina liked him. "My mother has six brothers and sisters who are all married with several kids. It's hard to cross Florence without tripping over a family member of the Mantoni clan."

  He chuckled. "I noticed."

  "We call them the gang." Carlina wrapped both hands around the elaborate arrangement of orchids in front of her and pushed it to the side to get more room.

  Marco lifted his eyebrows. "Sounds dangerous."

  "It is." And if you knew I've just shifted my dead grandfather, you would believe me.

  Angela bent forward, her dark hair falling over her shoulder. "Now don't you scare him, Caroline. We are a normal family."

  "That depends on your definition of normal." She's the only one who never calls me Carlina.

  "Nonsense." Angela fingered the linen napkin with nervous fingers. "There's nothing wrong with any--"

  "Carlina!" The booming voice behind Carlina caused the crystal glasses to rattle.

  Marco gave a start of surprise.

  "Uncle Teo!" Carlina jumped up and kissed her great uncle. "How are you?" She searched his face for any signs of fatigue or exhaustion.

  "Never better, never better, my girl." Uncle Teo's few white hairs stood up in tufts, in stark contrast to his impeccable dark sui
t and white shirt, but his eyes were bright, and his cheeks had a rosy glow that showed how much he enjoyed himself.

  He reminded Carlina so much of Nico, it felt as if someone had punched her straight in the stomach.

  "What do I hear from Fabbiola?" Uncle Teo grinned at her with delight. "Nico is ill?"

  Marco gasped. "For a moment I thought it was Nico himself." He said under his breath to Angela.

  Carline caught the words. Ha, ha. Our normal family is already getting to him. She added a hug to the kiss. Uncle Teo felt fragile and small in her arms. Sadness swamped her.

  Angela bent closer to her husband. "No, this is Teo. He's better dressed than Nico. That's the only way you can tell them apart."

  Carlina straightened her back with an effort. "The bad-vibe-period has come back," she said. Her voice didn't sound quite firm. "So he decided not to come."

  Uncle Teo cackled with laughter. "That bad, eh?"

  Carlina's mouth went dry. "What do you mean?"

  "I bet he felt weak and decided not to stay up all night." He paraded two steps in front of her with a swagger. "Well, we can't all become younger every day." A wink at Carlina. “I'm not finished yet, no matter what that old doctor tells me!” He looked across the room at his wife. Aunt Maria lifted one large arm and waved at him. "Maria says I have to return to our table. See you later." He wriggled his white eyebrows at her. "Don't forget I want to dance with you. I want to dance with all my beautiful nieces." He grinned at Angela. "I'm not too old for that. Bad vibe. Ha. I bet Nico is nowhere near as fit as I am."

  Carlina swallowed. How true.

  Uncle Teo waved at them again and strutted off.

  Phew. Carlina felt as if all her muscles had turned into water.

  Marco shook his head. "Why is he happy that his twin brother is sick?"

  Angela sighed and pushed her hand through her long hair.

  Carlina said, "Because they are in eternal competition. From the day they were born, they wanted to outdo each other. Some say they had seven kids each because every time one of them got a new baby, the other went straight home and told his wife he wanted one more."