‘Abandoned?’ Angelica turned to look at Paolo. Her face was suddenly very white. ‘When?’
Paolo stood in front of Bianca shaking with anger. ‘How dare you pry into my life, you fucking tart!’
Bianca was amazed that she wasn’t upset by his anger; for the first time she felt that she was in control. ‘He was left at a Catholic Convent in Italy and the only thing he had with him was a blue rattle.’
Angelica collapsed onto the carpet, moaning. ‘It’s not true. Paolo, tell me it’s not true.’
Paolo looked down at her, totally confused by her reaction. ‘What happened to me has nothing to do with us. Why are you so upset?’
Angelica lifted the Black Madonna out of the crate and started praying to it, tears pouring down her face.
“Forgive me my sins, Holy Mary; forgive me the sins of my youth and the sins of my age, the sins of my soul and the sins of my body, my secret and my whispering sins, the sins I have done to—”
‘Stop praying!’ Paolo shouted. ‘Tell me what’s wrong!’
And suddenly Bianca knew. There’d been rumors in school about her brother being kidnapped. Angelica had given her brother away! She gasped. It was monstrous.
‘You’ve been fucking your own sister, Paolo. That’s why she’s so upset. She’s the one who abandoned you and now she’ll go to hell for all eternity.’
Paolo was frozen in horror; one hand clutched to his heart as he stared at Angelica. ‘Tell me she’s lying. Angelica! Tell me she’s lying.’
But Angelica kept on praying to the Madonna and Paolo groaned. ‘Oh, mio Dio! Oh, mio Dio!’ He staggered into his bedroom. ‘My tablets. My tablets,’ he kept shouting.
Bianca looked at Angelica. ‘Where are his tablets?’
Angelica kept praying as if she hadn’t spoken.
‘Where are they?’ Bianca shouted to Paolo.
‘In the bathroom cabinet – quick!’
She raced into the bathroom and opened the cabinet and found some bottles. She scooped them up and raced back into the bedroom. Paolo was slumped on the bed, holding his chest. She gave him the bottles.
‘Jesus – you stupid tart! These are vitamins! Get the Metoprolol!’
She raced back into the bathroom; then suddenly stopped, noticing two pairs of wet footprints, the wine-stained bathwater, the empty glasses and bottles of wine. All the time She was singing in the club, he was lying in a bath drinking wine with the person she hated most in the world. She found the bottle of Metoprolol pills hidden behind more vitamin tablets. She took the pills out of the bottle and put them in her pocket. She replaced them with white vitamin tablets and went to the door of the bathroom.
‘What was the name again?’
‘Metoprolol! Can’t you fucking remember anything?’ He got off the bed, wincing with pain.
‘Sorry, Paolo. I’m a bit like you. Can’t remember things.’
Paolo staggered into the bathroom. ‘Stop playing fucking games. I’m in pain! Give them to me!’
She passed him the bottle and watched him fumble to open it.
‘You bitch! Open it!’
Even now, he’s abusing me, Bianca thought as she opened the bottle for him. She put some tablets in his hand. He swallowed two in one gulp and waited for them to kick in. Nothing. He looked down at the tablets in his hands as an agonizing pain tore through his chest and along his arm.
‘These aren’t Metoprolol!’ His face was covered in sweat. ‘Jesus Christ. What the fuck are you doing?’ He clutched his chest in agony.
She suddenly realized what a dangerous game she was playing and fumbled to get Metoprolol out of her pocket. ‘Take these, take these!’ she shouted at him.
But Paolo just held his chest, his face contorted with pain. Suddenly he lurched towards her, scattering tablets everywhere. Bianca watched in disbelief as he collapsed onto the floor. Terrified, she crouched beside him, trying, too late, to push the Metoprolol tablets between his teeth. But even as she was doing so, his eyes glazed over and his body went limp.
She started rocking back and fro. ‘Oh Holy Mary Mother of God. I didn’t mean you to die, Paolo. I didn’t mean you to die. I only wanted to scare you. Don’t leave me. I can’t live without you.’ She gathered his body in her arms and held him for a long time, tears streaming down her face. The love of her life was dead and she’d helped kill him. Panic suddenly swept over her – Angelica was in the lounge! She’d tell the police and then she’d rot in prison for the rest of her life. She laid Paolo’s body back on the floor and ran out of the bathroom. She had no idea what she was going to do when she saw Angelica, but when she got to the lounge, there was no sign of her or the Black Madonna. All that she’d left was the emerald necklace lying on top of a marble table. Obviously she couldn’t take it home. A huge wave of relief swept over Bianca. She stood still, thinking what to do. She wasn’t prepared to go to prison; how was she supposed to know that Paolo needed the tablets so quickly? But no one would believe her in a court of law. There must be a way out. There must be a way out, she kept chanting to herself. The solution suddenly came. She rushed back into the bathroom, steeling herself against seeing Paolo again. He looked incredibly vulnerable, lying naked on the rug. Taking a soft white towel from one of the rails, she laid it carefully over his body, then collected all the Metoprolol tablets and put them back in the right bottle, then did the same with the vitamin C tablets. She wiped the bottles carefully with some tissues, pressed Paolo’s hand around the Metoprolol bottle and put both bottles back in the bathroom cabinet using the tissues. She wasn’t going to be accused of his murder when she hadn’t killed him. She went back into Paolo’s bedroom and opened the drawers. She didn’t want any of her clothes to be left here. She opened the drawers where she left her underwear and was stunned to see them empty. Paolo had thrown them away! He obviously didn’t want her coming to his apartment again. What a bastard the man was. She opened the bottom drawer and found a pair of silk panties that had Angelica stamped all over them. She picked them up and put them behind a radiator in the bathroom. She felt no guilt. Look what the bitch had done to her life and she couldn’t even remember her. The thought held her together as Bianca wiped all the surfaces, checking the apartment for any sign of her presence there. Taking one last look around, she picked up the emerald necklace and left.
Jack watched Bianca all the time she was listening to the band, wondering what she was thinking. As they stopped playing, she looked at him as if she was going to say something. But just at that moment, there was a drum-roll and the saxophonist started introducing her to the audience. Everyone clapped loudly and waited for her to sing. Bianca got up and sashayed onto the stage. The lights dimmed and there was silence as she smiled at the audience.
‘Good evening, ladies and gentlemen. Tonight, I’m going to start by singing one of Bessie Smith’s songs called: “A Good Man Is Hard To Find”. But I’m sure that doesn’t apply to the gentlemen in this audience tonight.’
The audience laughed as the band played the intro; then fell silent as Bianca sang in a seductively poignant voice.
“A good man is hard to find
You always get another kind
Just when you think that he’s your pal
You find him fooling round with some other gal
Then you rave, you almost crave
You wanna see him down in his grave.”
And at that moment, Jack knew that she’d been the one to switch Cellini’s tablets, not Angelica Logan. Why hadn’t he thought about the significance of the lack of fingerprints on the vitamin C bottle before? Two tablets couldn’t have fallen behind a radiator if no one had opened the bottle. And only a woman who loves a man covers his body. Angelica Logan didn’t love Paolo Cellini. Of course, he could never prove what she’d done and he suddenly realized that he didn’t want to.
She would always relive the night when she’d allowed the man she once loved to die, while he had to live with the knowledge that he’d allowed the woman he
loved to live.
Bianca bowed to the enthusiastic audience; then looked across the room at him.
We all have our secret crosses, Jack thought as he smiled at her. She smiled back.
Author’s Footnote
Baby hatches like the one I mentioned in the novel, are the modern version of the medieval foundling wheels where Italian mothers placed their unwanted offspring in revolving cribs that spun them safely into the confines of convents. Many of the abandoned babies born then were born out of wedlock or through adulterous liaisons. But the use of modern baby hatches is growing rapidly across Europe; mainly because parents are unable to financially support their children. However, these modern hatches now have a weight sensor alarm which alerts people to an abandoned baby’s presence. Italy and Greece both have clauses under which women can give birth anonymously and are granted immunity from prosecution if they leave their babies at the special hatches in hospitals.
I have changed the ownership of the two paintings Angelica loved for the benefit of this story. Correggio’s Madonna and Child With The Infant Saint John The Baptist was indeed sold at Sotheby’s on 6th July, 2011. [The day that Paolo and Angelica first met.] However, it was purchased by the National Gallery of Victoria, Australia for $5.2 million; the highest price they have ever paid for any acquisition to date. Madonna and Child by Giovanni Battista Salvi owned by the National Gallery in London. If you are in either country, I hope you will go to see them.
Roundfire Books, put simply, publish great stories. Whether it’s literary or popular, a gentle tale or a pulsating thriller, the connecting theme in all Roundfire fiction titles is that once you pick them up you won’t want to put them down.
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