‘I understand,’ Luca said. ‘And the police will come and talk to you. Now you must have something to drink. Perhaps a little food. You have to rest. Tomorrow I want to take you home if they will let me, you will come?’
She wrote on the pad. ‘I want to get out of here!’
‘You will, I promise.’ He leaned over, very gently kissing her cheek. ‘Oh, my darling, if I had lost you … ’
Her heart, even weak as she was, gave a pleasant lurch. He seemed so distressed. Could it be that he cared for her?
She lay back against the pillows, tired by the exertion of trying to get everything down on paper. Luca took up her hand once more and held it until her eyes fluttered to a close.
In the end she spent five days in the hospital. They were adamant, there were things to look for, and because of her previous accident they had to be extra vigilant. Not even for the conte would they do something so irresponsible as to allow their patient to leave. If she insisted on signing herself out there was nothing they could do, but … and that ‘but’ was couched in such a threatening tone, that Alva acquiesced. She would stay and give them what they wanted.
When the door opened and Luca came to visit it was alarming to see that there was a policeman on the door. They, too, had been vigilant and very, very caring. They sent a sketch artist and then went away only to return later with some mug shots. The man was not amongst them. He was not in the system.
‘I don’t know why,’ she murmured, ‘but I think perhaps he was not Italian. Oh, he spoke good Italian but there was a faint accent … very, slight … ’
‘Albanian perhaps, or from Istria … he could be Swiss … ?’
‘Maybe the latter, it was so slight as to be hardly noticeable but now that I concentrate I hear it. I did not exactly have a conversation with him but I remember he swore at me and there was a different language from Italian there … foreign swearwords, just one or two … ’
They went away again, presumably to liaise with Interpol.
The launch had been found, wrecked on a remote beach, partly burned out. ‘He did not make a good job of the fire; probably he did not have time. Figlio di puttana!’ Luca uttered, slamming his fist into the palm of his hand. Forensics was going over it and there were fingerprints but again, nothing on the system. Whoever this man was he had not broken the law in Italy … but perhaps somewhere else.
‘He wanted to kill me,’ she said one day to Luca as he sat on the bed.
‘What? No, he wanted to kidnap you. He wanted money for you, who would want to kill you?’
‘I don’t know.’ Was this to be it again, was she not going to believed yet again. She looked up at Luca, studying his face. There were lines of worry at his mouth. ‘He tried to choke me, he said I would die. It wasn’t a kidnap. He had a syringe, he was going to drug me, or worse’
‘But why? It makes no sense. I would have paid a ransom to have you back.’
‘What did he say? I fought with him and he said something,’ she put her fingertips to her forehead and massaged her temples. ‘Something about I should have stayed away … ’ Helplessly she looked at her husband. ‘As if someone did not want me to be with you. Did not want me back at the island.’
Renata? The name flew into her mind … Renata hated her but surely not that much. No, it would not be Renata, she must not think that, must not give the impression that she even suspected Luca’s daughter of wanting her dead.
‘There is no one that would feel that way. I know that Renata is upset that we may be together but she is not part of this.’
She lied, the lie slid off her tongue and she hated herself. ‘No, I know that … but there has to be something else. And maybe it is nothing to do with you and me but to do with something in my past that I don’t remember. When I was in the water I thought about money, I thought, “what happened to the money”, but what money was it?’
‘I don’t know what that could be, cara, but there could be something neither of us knows about. The accident in London, the hit and run … ’
‘Perhaps I knew something about some missing money. Do you think it could be to do with Tony?’
‘Tony? Antonio you mean?’
‘No, Tony Laker, the man I worked for.’
‘Tony, you remember his name? Ah, but it will be from our discussion.’
‘No, I don’t think so … only a day or so ago it came to me quite naturally. You said he was disgraced? Could it be to do with that?’
Luca stared into her eyes. ‘After all this time? Unlikely, although he was a slippery character.’
‘Well how was he disgraced?’
‘Too friendly with someone who was into shady deals; he had received a lot of gifts from this person, and then there was the girl … young, you know the kind of thing. Presenting himself as a family man but all the time he had this slip of a girl on the side.’
‘Miranda.’ The name came from nowhere. ‘Lots of red hair and gorgeous … ’
‘You remember!’
‘Yes I do, just now. A very posh girl but — ’
‘I am sorry?’
‘You know, good family, right schools and connections, she modelled a bit. Had everything going for her on the outside but a bit of a dimwit otherwise.’
He laughed softly. ‘You have a fine way of summing people up, cara — still, I don’t know why I am laughing because none of this is funny.’
‘The Miranda affair was funny. Even Tony’s wife thought it ridiculous. If it had not had so much publicity I think she would have stood by him but she just thought, “What the hell, I don’t want to do this anymore”. However, I think it was more to do with the other thing … the one you were telling me about. This bloke he was in cahoots with. I don’t remember his name. If I ever knew it. Surely it can’t be anything to do with that? I mean, that is a blast from the past. If I knew anything then, they would have acted on it at the time.’
‘True … but it was after we were married that everything went wrong for Tony. In fact it was while … ’
‘Yes?’ She took up his hand, holding on to it. ‘Tell me … let’s not have secrets.’
‘It happened while you were in hospital.’
‘My breakdown … that time?’
‘Yes. This is the first time we have discussed it because you left me … ’
‘You didn’t come after me?’
He had the grace to turn his head away, then, making up his mind, turned to face her. ‘Things were said, it was impossible to go back from them.’
‘I said things to you, rather than you to me?’
‘More or less. Then you left the hospital and I did not know where you had gone. You had not even discharged yourself. You just walked out.’
‘So it wasn’t a secure unit?’
‘Alva, of course it was not. It was a private clinic.’
‘Good. I thought you had me banged up like the wife in the attic.’
He stared at her for a moment but seeing the twinkle in her eye merely smiled. ‘I am not Mr Rochester,’ he murmured. ‘You see, I do listen to you, Alva, and I know that is your favourite book.’
Later, when Luca had left for the hotel where he was staying, she lay in bed listening to the soft sounds of the hospital. A squeak of a trolley being pushed along the corridor, its wheels swishing along the thick floor covering. A cough somewhere, the laugh of a couple of nurses.
It was late, the light in the corridor was dimmed, and she knew the guard had changed. The night one was called Giuseppe and she knew that one of the nurses was rather sweet on him because she had heard them talking. He did not seem over keen but she was a game girl and kept trying.
All these irrelevant thoughts drifted in and out of her mind. She had to concentrate really hard not to relive those moments on the boat, or the time in the sea.
It had seemed hours but it was not even an hour. If the fishing fleet had not found her she knew she would have drowned. She had been in the darkness swimming away from the sho
re. How could she have done that … why had she not looked for the North Star which was a guiding light, ah … she knew little about the stars and the heavens. Had she seen the North Star it was unlikely she would have recalled what it was telling her.
Luca. He came to her, filling her senses with wonder. Just why had she said things that had made it impossible for him to come and find her? He said she would remember and he did not want to go over it with her. Not now, maybe in the future if she did not remember. She knew he meant it for her own good but in what he told her might lie some clues as to why she had done that and, more importantly, why she had twice been in situations that had left her close to death.
The room smelled delicious, it was full of flowers. They were from Luca and from the servants. There was a bunch of pale cream roses from Rosa d’Casta, which was kind — even though she did not like the woman it had been thoughtful of her. Perhaps she had misjudged her on their first meeting. After all, what had the woman done that was so terrible? She had tried to monopolize Luca but it was to her that Luca came, and who could blame Rosa anyway? Luca was the kind of man a lot of women would take a strong fancy to, and she had to be used to that. Besides, she was not the jealous type.
Even more surprising than the flowers from Rosa was the delicious basket of fruit that came from Renata. At first she had thought that Luca had ordered it but on checking she found the order had come from Rome. She had asked one of the nurses to find out. It had been a ridiculous enterprise and came from someone with too many idle hours, because when he had seen it Luca had been utterly surprised.
‘My goodness, my daughter has not forgotten her good manners after all!’
‘It’s kind of her, Luca and if you give me her address I will write and tell her so.’
Now she was ready to leave; she said nothing about how frail she felt, afraid that her release from the hospital would be delayed if anyone knew how she truly felt. Gladly she held on to Luca’s arm, and held him tightly. It was cold outside; she shivered, tugging the cashmere cardigan closer to her. Once inside the car, Luca tucked a warm blanket around her. Dark clouds roared across the sky and as they drove to the heliport light spots of rain dusted the windshield.
‘I have a new launch but I thought the helicopter would be quicker. I want you home — you will be safe there.’
‘Safe from what?’ She clasped his hand. ‘Don’t you think it’s over?’
‘Do you?’
She shook her head. She thought of the freedom that she loved, riding down to the beach, strolling into town, taking the launch to the mainland, was all this at an end because someone thought she knew something?
In the past she had been miserable and unhappy, Luca said she had been very depressed when she was pregnant. She thought she must have been hell to live with. Whatever had made her that way, she was determined it would not happen again. It could have been the pregnancy and her feeling ill with it, but it could have been this terrible thing that she knew about weighing on her mind. ‘I’m not going to give into fear, Luca, I want to enjoy my life, I want to enjoy — ’ She stopped, she had been going to say ‘you’, but perhaps that would be a step too far. She recalled only too well what he had said at the hospital. He had said ‘that we may be together,’ there had been no surety in that statement. He had had to clarify it.
‘Yes?’
‘Just living.’
‘You will be safe on my island,’ he assured her. ‘There will be no more mystery notes from me. I bought you a new mobile telephone. If you don’t hear from me that we will meet somewhere you will not go. I have a new man working for me now. You will meet him but he won’t be obtrusive around you. I need you to liaise with him if you are going anywhere — please do this for me?’
‘Of course. I don’t relish another experience like that last one,’ she smiled up at him.
‘I promise not to be stubborn and stupid about it.’
‘Good. I know that you liked Maryanne and Curtis Trevor and so I’ve invited them for a long weekend … ’
‘Lovely,’ she said, relishing the idea of the company of the American couple.
‘But I cannot let them film — I explained to them and they understand. It would bring too many strangers to the island and I cannot risk it.’
‘That’s a shame. I’m sorry I caused that but I do understand your reasoning. I only hope they do.’
‘Of course they do. Especially since I have suggested somewhere else where there will be no problem.’
CHAPTER SIX
Her minder was called Carlo. He was a large, solidly built man, especially for an Italian, and he had fair hair and light blue eyes. He came from the north, Luca explained. There was probably some Teutonic ancestry if one looked far back.
He certainly looked like a man who could handle any situation. He spoke good English too, but with a slight American accent. He explained that he had lived in the States for a short time. She thought she could trust him. Her feelings about Carlo were very different from her feelings for Antonio; she could still not get over her feeling of loathing when she looked at the man. Yet he did nothing really to alarm her. In fact he had been very solicitous of her well-being when he flew them back to the island from the hospital.
‘You won’t be with me all the time,’ she murmured.
‘If I am you won’t be aware of it, Contessa,’ Carlo assured.
‘Well,’ she smiled up at him, lowering her lashes in the hope of hiding her worries.
‘It should work OK … I’ll try to be co-operative.’
And later when she and Luca were alone she said, ‘I quite like him.’
‘That’s good, he comes highly recommended.’
Looking across at Luca she saw he still seemed worried.
Now and again he gave her a long penetrating stare when he thought she was not aware of it. Deep inside him he still thinks that I tried to commit suicide and worse … that I wanted to kill the child he put inside me. Sadly, she turned to walk away, only hesitating as she reached the door that let out into the hall. Turning back she caught him watching her once more, weighing her, his hands curled into fists as if he had to control himself, to stop himself from doing something or saying something … but what?
‘What time do the Trevors arrive tomorrow?’ she asked. She knew but felt she needed an excuse for her abrupt turn around.
‘After lunch. Curtis has a meeting.’
‘I’d like to plan dinner, is that all right?’
‘Of course, Alva, this is your home.’
Is it? The words bounced into her mind. You made love to me, we came together with such joy but now we are back where we started. There is a distance between us. Perhaps it will always be there. The sex was good, she remembered his hurtful words, and doubtless it would always be, but in-between times there was a void, and in spite of what had happened to her it would never be filled. The terrible birth and death of their child was in his head and he could never let go of the thought that it was all her doing.
*
‘But who would want to hurt you?’ Maryanne asked, curling her arm around Alva’s. ‘I thought it a kidnapping. I had no idea this man had tried to kill you!’
‘I don’t know … was it a kidnapping gone wrong? He had his hands at my throat, he had a syringe and it was I who jumped from the boat. Maybe he just wanted me docile.’ She shook her head. ‘It was all so fast; I am sure, and yet when you ask that, it makes me doubt myself.’
‘No, don’t doubt what happened to you. You know better than anyone else. It just seems preposterous that someone would want you dead. Ransom I can understand, but to want to murder you. Why? But of course you don’t know why because you can’t remember — God, Alva, how are you standing it?’
‘I think there’s a good bit of iron in me. I’m fearful yet I won’t give into it. I am not going to lock myself away.’
‘You don’t think someone wants you out of the way because of Luca?’
‘No. I don’t see an
yone wanting to kill me that badly. I mean, who wants me out of the way? — just Renata and even she wouldn’t plan to kill me. She hates me, but it is a girl thing with her. It isn’t me personally, she would be the same to anyone who married her father.’
They reached the cabanas and went inside to change into swimsuits. The air was not too warm but the pool was heated and Maryanne had said a swim was just what she needed. A weak sun caused the green-blue water to sparkle a little, and once she slid her body into it, the warmth engulfed Alva.
They swam side by side, doing a slow breaststroke, talking and laughing. It reminded Alva of other times but she could not see who the other person was. She remembered doing just that, at an indoor pool swimming alongside someone whose company she enjoyed.
A dusky cloud slid across the patch of blue, bringing with it a spurt of soft rain. The women laughed but carried on swimming and talking. One of the maids came out bearing a tray of coffee things. The soft breeze wafted the aroma of freshly brewed coffee across to them.
‘That smells good to me, one more lap and I’m out of here.’
‘Me too!’ Alva agreed.
But in the end she did two more. Maryanne was already wrapped in a thick toweling robe before she pulled herself out of the pool.
‘We have to be mad!’ Alva said.
‘I know, but isn’t it fun? I remember once when Curtis and I were in New Zealand. We went to this place where there were three hot pools to swim in, warm, very warm and warmer still, and it was pouring with rain but people were in there. Curtis wouldn’t, California chicken I guess, but I was in there. You can’t beat a Boston girl when it comes to stamina!’
‘I’d have been in there with you. At school we had to swim all year round, and the pool was not heated. Why is it these places have to punish kids?’ She asked light-heartedly.
‘That’s a memory,’ Maryanne said gently.
‘Yes, they do pop into my head now and then. Little bits of my past life.’
Shadows of the Past Page 10