Rosanna’s eyes were heavy. She couldn’t think of it any longer tonight. She turned off the light and prepared for sleep.
Downstairs in the kitchen Abi was washing the dishes and handing them to Luca to dry.
Luca yawned. ‘Sorry, it’s too much alcohol. I’m not used to drinking these days. I think I must go to bed.’
‘No! Luca, please, stay for a while. We have to talk.’ She sank down forlornly at the kitchen table and lit a cigarette.
His arms went immediately around her shoulders. ‘Abi, please, I don’t wish to upset you. I—’
‘Did you hear what I said this afternoon, Luca? I said I loved you. I know you think it was just the Pimms talking, but it’s true. I’ve loved you ever since those days in Milan. And I’ve done my best to keep away from you while you’ve been here. It was all going fine until you cooked supper for me the other night and told me about your disillusionment with the Church. And then . . . and then I kept thinking, maybe there’s a chance for us . . . I can’t help it.’ She ground her cigarette into the ashtray. ‘I can’t help wanting you. Oh, for Christ’s sake, you’re the priest! Comfort me, tell me what to do!’ She burst into helpless sobs and put her head in her hands.
‘Abi, don’t you understand that I loved you too?’
‘Did you?’
‘Yes.’
‘But Luca, do you still love me? That’s what I need to know.’ Her voice was muffled by her hands.
He looked down at her and exhaled slowly. ‘Yes, Abi, I still love you. Like you, I wondered if what I felt all those years ago was gone, but it hasn’t. And here I am with you again, at a time when I’m trying to make the most difficult decision of my life. How can I encourage our love when I can’t yet promise you anything? That would be selfish and unfair.’
She looked up at him. ‘Couldn’t you become an Anglican vicar or something? Then you could have me and religion!’
‘Abi,’ Luca chuckled as he stroked her hair.
She stood up. ‘Look, I think I ought to leave. It would be best for both of us. I can’t . . . I can’t . . .’ She shrugged helplessly. ‘I can’t control what I feel for you.’
‘Abi, do you wish me to be honest with you?’
‘Yes.’
‘Then I will tell you I couldn’t bear for you to leave. Besides that, you have your work to finish. Abi’ – Luca took her hands in his – ‘we could go upstairs now and consummate our love. That is what we both want, yes?’
Abi nodded. ‘Yes.’
‘But don’t you see it would be wrong? I’m too confused about my future. I could make you promises that I may not be able to keep. Then you would hate me and I would hate myself for hurting you and for breaking the vows I took when I went into the seminary.’
‘I know all that, Luca,’ she sighed. ‘That’s why it’s better I go back to London.’
‘Wait a little, cara. I’ve been thinking that God does not say love is wrong. So . . .’ Luca paused and took a deep breath. ‘Is it not possible to look on the few weeks we have together as a gift? Time to be with each other, to be close again, to talk? And for us to work out whether what we feel is right for both of us?’
‘So, what you’re saying is that we can be lovers, but without the physical side,’ said Abi slowly.
‘Yes. In our heads’ – Luca pointed – ‘in our hearts. Maybe it’s too much to ask, but it is all I can offer.’
She stared at him. ‘Are you saying there might be a chance for us? In the future?’
‘I cannot promise anything, Abi. You must know that now.’
She nodded slowly and stood up. ‘Well, that’s certainly going to take some thinking about.’ She walked towards the door, then turned to look at him. ‘If I’m here tomorrow morning, then . . .’ She shrugged slightly. ‘If not, well . . . goodnight, Luca.’ She opened the door and left the kitchen.
The following morning Luca woke, climbed out of bed and went immediately to the window. He opened the curtains, his heart beating hard against his chest, and saw the little red Mazda still parked in the drive.
There was a knock on his door and he went to open it.
‘Abi, Abi.’ He took her into his arms and held her. ‘I was so frightened you might have gone.’
‘How could I? I love you. I have to take the chance, however small.’
She kissed him gently on the cheek then pulled away from him. ‘But for now, my darling, I must do some work. We’ll talk more later.’
The door shut behind her. Luca knelt down and asked God to forgive his weakness.
The Metropolitan Opera House, New York
So, Nico, Abi stayed on, although at the time I had no idea she had been thinking of leaving. And I remember that summer as a time of, if not perfect happiness, then at least of peace, and respite for my broken heart. Stephen visited most days, coming to the house after he’d shut the gallery. He’d play with you for a while before you went to bed, then the four of us would sit down to supper on the terrace, enjoying those glorious English summer evenings. Stephen was not a replacement for your father – no one could ever fill that space in my heart – but at least he brought back a little normality to my life. Sometimes, sitting on the terrace, I’d look round the table and realise how lucky I was to have people I cared for with me.
And I began to slowly come back to life. The numbness that had been there since your father left started to thaw a little. Instead of living just one day at a time, I was able to look to the future, face making plans that did not include Roberto. I started to believe there was a chance that one day the pain would leave, and even if it didn’t, that I had enough in my life to be fulfilled. I even began to think about returning to singing. Stephen, Abi and Luca were all encouraging. But I knew it wasn’t right just yet, that I needed a little more time.
And your uncle looked happier than I’d seen him for years. There was a quiet contentment about him, and Abi too. I should have seen what was right under my nose, but I was blind to it then, selfishly involved with my own feelings.
Then the days became shorter and the leaves on the trees began to turn lazily from green to gold and red. Abi and Luca talked of leaving, but then made no plans to do so. It was as if the four of us were trying to make time stand still, knowing the summer had to end, but unable to face reality just yet . . .
37
Gloucestershire, September 1982
In the kitchen, Luca was preparing dinner. Abi sat at the table drinking a glass of wine.
‘Abi, cara, I have something I must tell you. I telephoned Papa today and I must fly to Naples as soon as possible. Carlotta has asked to see me. I’m sorry, but I must leave you.’
‘Of course you must go,’ she comforted him. ‘Don’t worry about me, I have to get back to London anyway. My editor’s screaming for the new manuscript and the publicity girl’s arranged some interviews for me. I . . . How long will you be away?’
Luca sat down in a chair opposite her. ‘I can’t tell. It depends on Carlotta.’
‘I see.’
‘I’ll telephone you, of course, as soon as I know how long I must stay. Abi’ – he took her hands in his and kissed them softly – ‘this summer has been the most wonderful time of my life. Whatever happens, I—’
‘What do you mean, “whatever happens”?’ She snatched her hands away.
‘I mean that I will always love you, even if . . .’
‘No, you mean that you don’t love me enough to offer me a future. Excuse me, I thought I could handle this, but . . .’
Abi stood up abruptly and left the kitchen. Luca called out to her, but she ran up the two flights of stairs to her room and slammed the door behind her. She walked across to the desk where her finished manuscript had lain for the past ten days. Since then, there’d been nothing further she needed to do to keep her from leaving and returning to London. She’d simply been unable to dig up the courage to say goodbye to him. She sat down in her chair and gazed out of the window and across the open country
side. The summer had been so perfect. They’d spent every day together, walking, talking, loving each other in every way but one.
Abi laid her head on her manuscript, the joy of the past few weeks replaced by dread. He’d said from the start he could promise her nothing. She could not blame him. And she knew the pain was only just beginning.
By the time Abi was packed and ready to leave the following morning, Rosanna and Nico had already said their goodbyes and had left the house to meet Stephen for lunch in Cheltenham.
As she was cramming her suitcase into the tiny boot space of the Mazda, Luca appeared at the front door.
‘Abi.’ He walked towards her and took her in his arms.
‘I . . . I can’t take this. Please try to understand.’ She pulled away from him and climbed behind the wheel. She turned the key and the engine hummed.
He leant through the window. ‘I love you, Abi. I will write to you from Naples.’ She moved the gearstick into reverse, desperate to leave before she cried like a baby in front of him. ‘Just promise me one thing, Luca.’
‘What is it?’
‘That you won’t forget the way you felt this summer. I defy even God himself to make you happier. Goodbye.’
Luca watched as Abi reversed the car, turned it round, then roared out of the drive.
She was gone.
He stood, shell-shocked by her abrupt departure. And for the first time, Luca truly understood Rosanna’s pain over Roberto.
Twenty-four hours later, Luca also clasped his sister in his arms. ‘Ciao, piccolina.’
‘Ciao, take care of yourself and send my love to Papa, Carlotta and Ella. And please, let me know if I should come and see Carlotta.’
‘I will, I promise. I’ll telephone you when I arrive in Naples.’ Luca bent down to kiss Nico. ‘Take good care of your mamma, angeletto.’
Stephen was waiting to take Luca to the airport. ‘I should be back by five,’ he called to Rosanna as he got into the car and closed the door. Waving as they watched the car crawl down the drive, she picked up Nico and hugged him, shivering a little in the autumnal air.
Summer was over.
When Stephen returned from the airport, they had supper on trays in front of a film.
‘The house feels so empty and quiet, doesn’t it?’ Rosanna commented.
‘Well, it will for a while. I must admit, completely selfishly of course, that it’s nice to have you to myself for a change. Do you think Luca and Abi will keep in touch with each other?’
‘Of course. They have reclaimed their friendship and they became very close over the summer.’
‘Do you think that’s all it was? Friendship, I mean?’ Stephen persisted.
‘Of course. My brother will soon be ordained as a priest. Why do you ask?’
‘I just happen to think they’re still in love with each other, Rosanna.’
‘No, they’re just very good friends. They enjoy each other’s company. I’m sure that’s all.’
‘If you say so. Anyway’ – Stephen stood up – ‘I must be going. I’m tired after all that driving and if I stay any longer, I’ll fall asleep.’ He pulled his discarded sweater over his head. ‘Thank you for supper. I’ll pop round sometime next week, shall I?’
It hit her like a hard thump on her chest. She wanted him to stay, to feel his arms around her. She didn’t want to be alone in this silent, empty house.
‘Don’t go,’ she whispered.
‘Sorry?’ Stephen turned back from the door.
‘I said, please don’t go.’
He looked confused. ‘I . . . are you saying you want me to stay?’
‘Yes.’ Rosanna stood up and walked towards him. She stood on tiptoe so she could kiss him on the lips. His arms wound round her shoulders and they kissed properly for the first time.
Rosanna pulled away from him. ‘Take me upstairs, Stephen,’ she murmured, before she could change her mind.
‘I have a proposition to put to you.’
It was a few days after Luca and Abi had left and Stephen had popped in as usual after work. He was pushing Nico on the swing at the bottom of the garden.
‘Will I like it?’ Rosanna enquired with a smile.
‘I don’t know. I hope so.’
‘Then you’d better ask me.’
‘I have to go to New York at the end of this month. There’s a very wealthy collector I know from my days at Sotheby’s. I sent him a catalogue of my landscape artist who sold so many of her paintings at the show last month and he called me today, expressing interest in buying a couple of her pieces. He’s invited me over to discuss it.’
‘If he’s seen the catalogue, then why must you go over too?’ asked Rosanna.
‘Because he’s outrageously wealthy, so he’s worth keeping sweet,’ replied Stephen. ’And I thought it would be the perfect excuse to spend a weekend in New York with you,’ he added casually. ‘Would you come, darling? I’d love it if you did. This man really is a well-known collector. If he buys from me, then other major collectors might have the courage to follow his lead. I need you with me to charm him.’
Rosanna shook her head. ‘Thank you very much for asking, but I don’t think New York is a good idea.’
‘Are you worried about bumping into your husband?’
‘Yes.’
‘Well, don’t be. It just so happens that Roberto is singing in Paris for three weeks at that time. I’ve already checked. So will you come?’ he pleaded. ‘We could have a wonderful time.’
‘But what about Nico?’
‘I’ve already asked Abi and she says she’s happy to take care of him while we’re away. It’ll only be two nights, Rosanna.’
Rosanna hesitated for a minute then said, ‘Okay.’
‘You’ll really come?’
‘Yes, I will.’
‘Nico,’ he said to the little boy, ‘your mother is a star.’
38
Naples, Italy
‘Papa!’ Luca kissed his father on both cheeks. ‘You look well.’ He thought that Marco hardly seemed to have aged a day in the past ten years.
‘It’s wine, food and the love of a good woman that keeps me young,’ quipped Marco. ‘Come, Luca, have a drink with me.’ He poured two glasses of Aperol and handed one to Luca.
‘How is she?’
Marco’s face became grave. ‘I don’t know. She’ll tell me nothing.’
‘Has she said whether the treatment has worked?’
‘No, I told you, she tells me little, but, Luca, you only have to look at her to see the truth. And as for Ella’ – Marco shrugged – ‘she knows nothing except that Carlotta was in the hospital for a while and is now recovering. The poor girl keeps asking me why her mamma is still so pale and sick. But what can I do? I promised Carlotta I would not tell her daughter anything.’
‘Well, maybe she’s hoping there will be no need.’
‘You see your sister and then tell me there is no need,’ sighed his father.
‘Is she upstairs?’
‘Yes, she is resting. She was very happy you were coming. I’ve sent Ella to a friend’s for the night so you can have a talk with Carlotta. Try to get something out of her, Luca.’
‘I’ll go up now.’
Marco put a hand on Luca’s shoulder. ‘She’s hiding the truth from all of us and it’s better we know.’
Luca nodded, then walked up the stairs and along the corridor to Carlotta’s room. He knocked softly on her door.
‘Come in,’ a voice answered weakly.
Luca opened the door and saw Carlotta lying on top of the bed. She was skeletal, her previously curvaceous figure eaten away with disease, her once lovely complexion turned a ghastly grey. He knew then that Carlotta was dying.
She lifted herself up onto her elbows and a smile came fleetingly to her face, sending memories of the old Carlotta flooding back into his mind.
‘Luca, come and give your sister a hug.’
He walked towards her, then put his arms aro
und her and held her, steeling himself not to cry.
‘I’m so glad you are here.’
He released her from his arms and she lay back on the pillows, her hand chasing his and clasping it.
‘I’m sorry I wasn’t downstairs to greet you, but I’m afraid I feel a little tired today.’
‘Carlotta, it doesn’t matter. I’m your brother. You lie there and we’ll talk.’ He stroked her forehead as her body stiffened. ‘Is the pain bad?’
She nodded. ‘Yes.’ Tears came to her eyes. ‘You know, don’t you, Luca? You can see?’
‘See what?’
‘That it will soon be over for me.’
‘No, Carlotta, please, you mustn’t say that.’
‘The doctors have told me. The treatment didn’t work. The cancer has spread – it’s everywhere. There’s nothing more they can do.’ She closed her eyes as if unable to look at him any longer.
Luca realised it was pointless offering her platitudes. ‘How much time do you have?’
‘They don’t know. Between three and six months. The way I am today, maybe a few hours.’ She winced. ‘Can you pass me those tablets?’ She pointed to a bottle on the bedside table. ‘I’ll feel a bit better once I’ve had one of these. They work for about two hours, but I’m only allowed to take them every four.’ Luca handed her a tablet and she put it in her mouth, took a sip of water and swallowed. ‘There.’ She slumped back onto her pillow and exhaled. Then she closed her eyes. ‘Give me a little time for the tablet to work.’
‘Of course. As long as you need.’ Luca sat silently on the edge of the bed holding Carlotta’s hand. Slowly, her jagged breathing began to ease and the tension in her body lessened. Luca thought she slept a little, but eventually, she opened her eyes and smiled at him.
‘Okay, it is better. My dear brother, I’m so glad you are here. Did you have a good holiday with Rosanna in England?’
‘Yes, very good.’
‘How are Rosanna and Nico?’
‘They’re both well.’
‘Good. Luca, I need to talk to you.’ Carlotta sounded almost normal now the pain was under control. ‘But not yet. Tonight we shall go out to eat.’
The Italian Girl Page 33