by Lucy Gordon
‘But you did it.’
Icy fingers were going up and down her spine, and suddenly the air was full of threat.
‘You know why I did it,’ she said. ‘Vittorio, how dare you start getting possessive about something that happened before we met? In those days I didn’t know you existed. I didn’t owe you anything, and I don’t owe you explanations now.’
His eyes were dark, unfathomable, but there was no doubting the cold bitterness in his voice.
‘I shouldn’t be possessive? What do you think I am? An Englishman, saying, “Yes, dear-no, dear-just as you please, dear”? If you belong to me, you belong to me. Do you understand?’
‘I understand that you’re starting to act like Joe,’ Angel said, her temper flaring. ‘And I don’t like it. I had eight years of being a piece of property, dancing to the tune of a man who thought he could own and control me, and it’s not going to happen again. I don’t belong to you, or any man, and I never will. That wasn’t me back then. I was a different person.’
‘You pretend it was-’
‘It’s the truth-’
‘In your mind, maybe, but there’s one part of you for which it can’t be true.’
His eyes travelled slowly over her body that the minute bikini left almost naked, his meaning unmistakable.
‘Don’t look at me like that,’ she choked.
‘I have loved looking at you. You body is more beautiful than I could have believed possible, and I guess the others thought so too, because it’s the same b-’
‘Don’t,’ she said swiftly, putting her hand over his mouth. ‘Don’t say that.’
‘Will not saying it make a difference?’
Angel stared at him, sickened by this sudden development that had happened without warning. They had made love in peace and joy, and then she had lain, innocently naked, before his adoring gaze. The aftermath should have been beautiful. Yet a moment had transformed him into an ugly, judgemental stranger.
‘You’re right,’ she said in a stony voice. ‘It’s thinking it that makes a difference, and I’ll never forgive you for that. My God, it’s only an hour or so ago that you said those men were in the past, that they couldn’t get me again because you’d protect me. But they will get me again, because they’ll come through you, and every man like you. They are you.’
Her voice cracked with anguish as the full horror of the truth burst on her. ‘Do you see what you’ve done? You’ve shown me that there’s no way out for me. I am what Joe Clannan made me. I thought I could escape, but I never can as long as men see me through that distorting prism. And you’re a man like any other. I thought you were different, but you’re not. The truth is that no man is ever different. It’s lucky we found out now, isn’t it?’
Vittorio could neither answer nor look at her. His face was dark, heavy with the thoughts he couldn’t bear to utter. She picked up her clothes and went into the little cave. Now she only wanted to hide her body from him. He made her feel ugly and ashamed.
When she came out he was dressed and putting things into the boat. In silence they pushed it into the sea, and got aboard.
Not a word was spoken as they sailed back to Amalfi. At any other time she would have rejoiced in the journey, with the sun turning the sea to fire. It was a scene to make lovers rejoice, but they were no longer lovers. A black shadow had fallen between them, and Angel had a terrible fear that it would stretch over the rest of her life.
CHAPTER NINE
S TILL in silence they got into Vittorio’s car and finished the journey back to the estate. Bitterness seethed in Angel. She wanted to rend him and break his heart as he had broken hers.
After this, she would be as calculating as he clearly thought that she was. She would dismiss him from her employment, but not at once. First she must learn everything he could teach her. She would pick his brains clean. Then, when she was strong enough to manage without him, she would throw him out.
He thought she’d been marked by her previous life. Fine! He would discover that she really had been marked, but not in the way that he thought. Revenge would be sweet, she promised herself, and the thought sustained her the rest of the way.
When the house came into sight she said quietly, ‘I’ll get out here.’
‘It’s getting dark. Let me take you a little closer.’
‘Stop the car, right now.’
He did so, and watched as she got out and walked away. She didn’t look back until she was nearly at the house, and then his tail lights were already vanishing into the distance.
In her room she stripped off and showered, scrubbing herself repeatedly, as though she could scrub off the day and everything that had happened. But there was no way to wash away the feel of Vittorio holding her, or the look in his eyes when he’d turned against her. She would remember that look all her life, and hate him for it until the last moment.
She pulled on a towel robe and returned to the bedroom, switching off the light so that she could go and stand at the window. The moon had risen high, casting a silver sheen on the ocean beneath, giving it a look of unearthly peace.
It was no different from any other night, Angel thought wretchedly. That chill, indifferent tranquillity would endure no matter whose heart broke. And perhaps it was better to let her heart break now than put off facing the truth until later. What had happened today had always been bound to happen.
A movement from below made her look down, wondering if Toni had been locked out. But he was there beside her, paws on the window sill.
Who, then, was below?
When she looked out again the moon had gone behind a cloud, filling the garden with darkness, until the cloud passed and she saw who was standing there. Vittorio was gazing up at her and, even in this light, she thought she’d never seen so much misery in a human face-greater, even, than her own.
‘I thought you’d gone home,’ she called down softly.
He simply shook his head.
‘Go to the kitchen door,’ she said.
He was there by the time she reached it and pulled back the bolts. But when she pulled open the door and stood back for him to pass he made no move. She couldn’t see his face, but the tension was there in every line of him.
‘Come in,’ she said, turning to lead the way, and leaving him to lock the door.
Outside the bedroom door he stood back, again refusing to enter until she summoned him, and even then asking, ‘Are you sure that I may?’
‘Come in,’ she said.
He came across the threshold as though fearful, and when she’d closed the door he made no move to touch her.
‘How long had you been out there?’
‘I got halfway home before I turned around. I had to come back and ask-beg your forgiveness. I don’t deserve it. I don’t know what I was thinking of…’
The moment he said ‘beg your forgiveness’ it was all over. Angel placed her fingers over his lips, feeling all pain and anger dissolve, and drew him further inside the room, so that she could sit down on the bed. But instead of sitting beside her he dropped to his knees.
‘Forgive me,’ he said hoarsely. ‘I never meant to speak to you so. I know you are innocent, but inside me I am insane with jealousy. I try not to be. I know that none of it was your fault, but reason has no place in the way I feel about you. Nothing and nobody in the world has ever mattered to me as you do. It frightens me how much you matter. I don’t know what to do.’
‘Must you do anything?’ Angel whispered. ‘Is it so terrible for me to matter?’
‘In a way it is,’ Vittorio said sombrely. ‘Love isn’t simple for me. Today-with you in my arms-such joy, such beauty…greater than I have ever known. You seemed to have taken possession of me, as though my soul were no longer my own.’
A tremor went through him, and she guessed that this was what he feared so much that it tinged love with dread.
And perhaps he was right, Angel thought sadly. She had felt the same, as though he had taken possession o
f her, and it had made the pain of his hostility all the greater. Wouldn’t it be better to do as he did, and retreat to safety?
But the next moment she knew better. There was no safety for either of them.
‘I turned on you to protect myself.’ He sighed, resting his head against her. ‘It’s the only way I knew to escape you.’
‘If you want to escape me that much, perhaps you should.’
He looked into her face. ‘You would send me away?’
‘I wouldn’t keep you against your will. Vittorio, one part of you still hates me-’
‘No!’ he said violently.
‘Yes. It’s the truth. If I can admit it, why can’t you?’
He gave a wintry smile. ‘Because you have more courage than me. Do you think I don’t know that? I could never truly hate you, not now. But I want so many different things at once-to flee from you, to lose myself in you. Sometimes I think it can never be right for us. There’s too much holding us apart. But then I look at you and I know that nothing must come between us.’
‘I guess we both have our demons,’ she said. ‘And they’re always lying in wait. But just now, let’s forget them.’
‘Say that you forgive me,’ Vittorio whispered.
‘There is nothing to forgive.’ Angel stroked his face. ‘We have to be generous with each other. There’s no other way for us.’
Angel took his face between her hands and kissed him tenderly. ‘We can make it right now,’ she murmured.
But when she tried to put her arms around him he drew back and rose to his feet.
‘Not now,’ he said. ‘It’s too soon-I don’t trust myself…’
‘But if I trust you?’
‘You mustn’t,’ he said with sudden frantic urgency. ‘If I were strong enough I’d go far away and leave you in peace-but I can’t, except for just a little while.’
‘Stay,’ she murmured against his mouth.
‘I can’t-I mustn’t-’
‘Stay.’
She could feel his indecision, the terrible fight he was waging inside his divided self, and for a moment she was sure she’d won. But at the last minute he pulled away.
‘Forgive me,’ he said hoarsely.
And fled.
Angel had a poor night, and went down next morning feeling weary and disgruntled. But a pleasant surprise awaited her.
Through the window she saw Sam walking in the garden on Roy’s arm. She went out, bracing herself for the painful moment when he wouldn’t know her, but to her joy his face lit up and he waved.
‘Angela, darling!’ he cried, opening his arms. ‘It’s lovely to see you again. Where have you been all this time?’
‘I’ve been around,’ she said cautiously. At all costs she didn’t want to say anything that would trouble him.
‘You should have come to see me. I’ve missed you so much.’
‘Never mind, we’re together now. That’s all that matters.’
‘But where are we, my dear? I don’t seem to know this place.’
‘Come and have breakfast, and we’ll talk.’
To her delight, Sam continued to be cheerful and clear-headed over breakfast. Angel told him about the divorce and he nodded in approval.
‘I wondered why I hadn’t seen Joe around recently. I never did like him, you know.’
‘If you want the truth, neither did I,’ she confided, and they laughed like conspirators.
He was Sam again. Her Sam. The twinkle was back in his eye and the warmth in his gaze as it rested on her.
‘Later I’ll show you the estate,’ she said. ‘You’re going to love Italy.’
‘This is Italy?’ He beamed. ‘But that’s wonderful. We always planned for you to come here to study art, remember?’
‘Yes, I do. And you remember? You really do?’
‘Of course I remember, you silly girl. As though I could forget a thing like that!’
Afterwards they went walking through the garden and he admired the flowers. Angel was overflowing with happiness, praying for this time to last.
Toni, who’d taken an instant liking to Sam, was bounding joyfully around him, although some instinct seemed to warn him against colliding with the frail old man. Then a distant bark alerted Toni to Luca, and the next moment the two dogs were racing for each other.
‘Who’s that?’ Sam asked, pointing to the man working at the end of a row of rose bushes.
‘That’s Vittorio.’
She was slightly nervous as he came towards them, wondering if Sam would recall their first meeting and connect him with the distress of the journey home. But Sam was smiling.
‘We’ve met before, haven’t we?’ he said.
‘Well, yes…’ Vittorio began cautiously, looking at Angel for guidance. ‘I was-’
‘No, don’t tell me, let me guess. I’m a bit forgetful sometimes, but I like to remember for myself, if I can. I know, you drove me home. That must be some time ago now.’
‘Just a couple of weeks,’ Vittorio said.
‘Jolly good. Jolly good. So you’re Vittorio?’
‘I work for the signora,’ he said gravely.
‘Well, I’m Sam. Oh, but of course, we’ve met, haven’t we? Have you brought all these roses on? Done a great job. I used to grow roses. You must come and talk to me about them.’
‘Come now,’ Angel said.
It was the start of an odd friendship. Sam and Vittorio took to each other, and over the next few days they had long conversations, apparently in total understanding. It was good to see her grandfather happy, but now Angel never seemed to have more than a moment alone with Vittorio. All the time he was either occupied with Sam or hard at work.
‘It will be harvest soon,’ he said. ‘And you want everything to be at its best.’
‘I might think you were still avoiding me,’ she suggested.
He gave her a brief kiss.
‘No, I want us to be together, but I won’t neglect my duty, even for you.’
‘What about your duty to me?’
He grinned. ‘I thought Sam came first?’
‘He does, it’s just-I miss you.’
It was a disconcerting part of Sam’s problem that he wasn’t equally confused about everything. He could still remember every funny story he’d ever heard, especially the rude ones, as Vittorio remarked with relish. And his ability to play chess was unimpaired. He’d trounced Roy and Frank so often that there was no more pleasure in it, and when he discovered that Vittorio was an expert player he fell on him with delight.
‘Thank you for being so kind to him,’ Angel said once. ‘I love hearing him laugh with you.’
‘I’m not being kind. I enjoy his company. He’s fantastic. And he can beat me at chess.’
‘I wondered if you were letting him win.’
‘Well, I’m not,’ he said in a chagrined voice. ‘And stop laughing.’
‘I can’t help it. It’s so wonderful to see him happy.’
‘He really is the only person in the world whom you care for, isn’t he?’
She touched his face. ‘You know better than that.’
With such moments they got by, sometimes stealing some time alone together, but more often having to be satisfied with being in the same room in the company of others. Sam’s friendship had made Vittorio part of the family, and it was a rare evening when he didn’t join them to watch television, play chess and study Angel silently.
Rescue came in the form of a weekend of Celebration Road, which Sam was determined not to miss.
‘Episodes from the archives,’ he explained. ‘Some of them haven’t been seen for years, so you won’t disturb me, will you, darling?’
‘I promise,’ Angel said fervently. ‘Would you-would you mind if I was away overnight?’
‘Anything you like, darling. Oh, look, it’s starting!’
Leaving him blissfully content, she was able to escape with Vittorio to wander the streets of Amalfi, doing little, saying less, needing nothing b
ut each other. They stopped off in a newsagent, and while he bought a paper she looked around the shop and noticed a poster, advertising a lottery with a big roll-over prize that week.
‘Hey, I want to enter that,’ she said. ‘One ticket, please.’
‘Me too,’ Vittorio called. ‘Will you get me one?’
‘What about the numbers?’
‘You pick them for me.’
She bought two tickets, giving two sets of six numbers, and joined him on the way out of the shop.
‘Here’s your…’ she began to say, but he interrupted her, pointing to where a horse and carriage waited by the kerb, the driver looking around hopefully.
‘That’s the best way to travel,’ Vittorio said.
‘Lovely!’
It was a charming vehicle, painted yellow with blue and white cushions, and a large sunshade. He handed her aboard, calling, ‘Anywhere!’ to the driver, who hopped up behind the horse, which set off.
‘I’ve seen these when I’ve been here before,’ Angel said in delight, as the horse trotted through tiny, winding streets. ‘I’ve always wanted to take one. Oh, I forgot, your ticket.’
He gave her the price of one ticket and she said, ‘Which one do you want?’
He shrugged. ‘You choose.’
Holding them up in one hand she began to intone, ‘Eeeny, meeny-hey!’
The yell was jerked from her as the carriage jolted hard, throwing her against him, and depositing the tickets onto the floor.
‘We went over a stone,’ Vittorio laughed, helping her up. ‘Are you all right?’
‘Sure, fine. It was just a bit unexpected. Vittorio?’
Suddenly she had lost his attention. He was staring over her shoulder, twisting his head further as the carriage moved on.
‘What’s the matter?’ she asked.
‘It’s him,’ he said. ‘It’s him!’
‘Who?’
‘Leo. My so-called friend who cheated me out of everything I had. I saw him…’
‘Are you sure? Where?’
‘There-no-in that street-driver, go that way, fast.’
The driver swore and began to back up.
‘Hurry!’ Vittorio shouted.
‘I have to turn the horse, signore,’ the driver shouted back indignantly.