Challenge

by Sophie Weston

  Jessica was quite stunned. Pulling her robe tighter round her, she sank down on to the arm of one of the luxurious chairs with which her suite was provided.

  `I don't think I understand,' she said slowly.

  Ida Volpi gave her a pitying look. 'Oh, did you think that he would remain my brother's heir—what is your English phrase?—come hell or high water?'

  Jessica blinked. 'I didn't think about it at all.'

  Signora Volpi gave a harsh crack of laughter. 'Very pretty, Miss Shelburne. Almost convincing. If I were a man I would be most impressed.'

  Jessica stared at her.

  `I am a woman, my dear,' the other woman said softly. `I know your game; I have played it myself.'

  Jessica began to wonder for a hair-raising minute if the woman were drunk or worse mad. Ida Volpi was looking at her as if she hated her.

  At last she said, 'Signora, I am very sorry, but I do not understand a word you are saying. I think you must have the wrong person.' She stood up. 'And I really am very tired. .

  The older woman grabbed hold of her, the painted nails like claws against her bare arm. The grip was fierce, and Jessica gasped at the unexpected pain.

  `Then let me explain myself, Miss Shelburne,' Ida Volpi gritted in a burning whisper. 'I have spent my life - my whole life, do you hear me? trying to undo my stupidity in marrying Alfredo Volpi and to give my son a chance to have the things that are his right. My right! Who do you think paid for his education? Alfredo would

  have sent him to a state school and let him go to work in the docks when he was fourteen. It was Giorgio who saved him, Giorgio who educated him.'

  Jessica strove to withdraw her arm, to no avail. The Signora hardly seemed to be aware of her grip. In fact, Jessica began to doubt whether she even knew who she was talking to.

  made a life for myself without Alfredo, so that Leandro need not be ashamed of his parents. And Giorgio helped. And see how he repays him! He quarrels with him all the time, will not accept. .

  She stopped suddenly and her eyes came back to Jessica, suddenly focusing again and looking alarmingly shrewd as they did so. She released her hold on Jessica's arm and spoke more calmly.

  know he does not agree with this holiday project of Giorgio's.' She shrugged. 'I do not know why. It does not matter. But he has been seducing you to tell him Giorgio's secrets, and that will get him struck out of Giorgio's will forever.'

  Jessica said soothingly, 'Not a secret has passed between us.'

  Ida Volpi's eyes narrowed. 'You are like him,' she said on a hissing breath. 'Like Leo. Everything is a game.' She fell silent and then said in a completely different tone, almost composed, 'He won't marry you, you know.'

  Totally disconcerted, Jessica sat down hard on the chair behind her.

  `I beg your pardon?'

  `Marriage. He won't,' said the Signora succinctly. 'He likes his freedom. I know my son. And anyway, if Giorgio finds out about this, he won't be worth marrying. He had nothing from his father, you know. And I—' her mouth twisted resentfully '—I am my brother's pensioner and have been so for years. Don't delude yourself about my glamorous son: he has no title and no money

  to speak of and he wouldn't stay faithful to you for a week.'

  Jessica said slowly, 'Do you dislike him so much?' Ida Volpi flushed. I—no, of course I don't dislike him.

  I only want the best for him. He is my son. I love him.' `Except when he doesn't do what he's told?' asked Jessica, raising her brows.

  Two little spots of colour appeared in the Signora's cheeks like the painted rosiness on a Dutch doll that Jessica had had as a child.

  She said between her teeth, `You—are--impertinent!' Jessica leaned back in her chair, crossing one leg over the other.

  And you are not?' she asked gently.

  Ida Volpi stared at her as if she had taken leave of her senses. `I am your employer's sister,' she said, as if that answered everything.

  You are the sister of a man from whom I have undertaken an assignment which is one of many. And which I might choose to resign from,' said Jessica softly. I'm a professional, Signora Volpi. I would not take what has just been said to me from Prince Giorgio; I certainly will not take it from you. You have until noon to decide whether you will apologise. If you do not, I shall have no alternative but to offer the Prince my resignation. And tell him why I have reached that decision.'

  You would not dare,' said his sister. She did not say it with much conviction.

  Jessica shrugged, not bothering to answer. 'Now will you leave my room, or shall I ring for one of the staff to come and take you away?' she asked, still in the same pleasant voice.

  Ida Volpi stared at her, unspeaking. Her elegance seemed to have evaporated. Now she just looked like a desperately tired woman, painted unsuccessfully to hide the lines of envy and discontent. The gorgeous red dress

  looked like a tent, a piece of brave camouflage. Jessica felt touched with pity.

  `I'm sorry,' she said more gently, 'but you should not have spoken like that about Leandro.'

  `You are in love with him,' said the Signora at last in a rusty voice. She went to the door mechanically, like a puppet manipulated by an inexpert hand. 'You are a fool,' she said without emotion, not looking at Jessica.

  She went out, head bent, closing the door softly behind her.

  In the uncanny silence that followed her departure, Jessica found that her hands were shaking. She noticed it with faint surprise, watching the hands clasped together on her knee and recognising the faint, uncontrollable tremor as a sign of tension.

  When she stood up, however, she realised it was not just her hands. Her whole body was shaking. She felt very cold too. She dragged the robe across her breast, as if it would warm her. She felt sweat on her brow and thought, good heavens, it feels like 'flu!

  Then common sense took hold. It had been a nasty little scene, perhaps one of the nastiest in her life. It was not surprising that it had upset her or that her distress had manifested itself physically.

  What you need, she told herself, is a stiff drink.

  For the first time in her stay on the yacht—for the first time in her life, indeed she went across to the tray of drinks and uncorked the brandy, splashing some into a glass as the clock struck half past two. She drained the brandy in one swallow and began to feel better. She disliked the taste and never drank it for preference, but now she was grateful for the warmth. The residual nausea of which she had been aware began to subside.

  She went across to the door into the corridor and locked it with a vicious movement.

  `No more visitors tonight,' she said aloud. 'Not for all the tea in China.'

  She took some more brandy and went back to bed, huddling under the bedclothes as if it was winter, instead of a sultry summer night. She lay down, on her side, curling her knees up like a child. The smell of the undrunk brandy in the glass beside the bed wafted over her. She knew she ought to finish it, but she was too cold to uncurl, too tired to lift her head; too frightened by what Ida Volpi had said to want to think about it.

  But that's stupid, she thought to herself, circling into sleep. She can't frighten me; I have much more reason to frighten her. If I tell Prince Giorgio. . . If I tell Leandro. . . Though I can't tell Leandro anything or she'll tell him I'm in love with him. She'll tell everyone I'm in love with him.

  She did not even know she was crying until the tears dripped into her ears and she had to scrabble them away with the edge of her pillow. In the end she fell asleep with her.tears undried. She knew she must have done because the stains were clearly visible in the morning.

  Jessica did not usually dream. Normally she fell asleep the moment her head touched the pillow and stayed in that happy state until seven o'clock. But that night she tossed and turned on the edge of wakefulness until late into the morning, a prey to a hundred flickering and rather frightening images. There was a roaring sea that threatened to engulf her. There was a burning sun that bore down on her until she co
uld feel its heat on her face. And in her ear all the time was Signora Volpi's parting taunt, 'You are a fool. You are a fool!'

  Eventually she was roused by a scream from the telephone. She struggled up on to one elbow, pushing hair from her eyes, and reached for the instrument.

  `Yes?'

  `Jessica? Are you all right?' It was Sue, sounding breathless.

  `Yes, of course,' said Jessica, coming fully awake. She looked at her watch and her heart sank. Ten o'clock. 'I just overslept, that's all.'

  `I was worried. Your door was locked and Enrico said he hadn't been able to get any answer when he brought your breakfast round.'

  `I must have been asleep.' She was annoyed with herself and her voice sounded sharp.

  `Er—Jessica?' Sue was tentative now.

  `Hello?'

  `Are you—er—alone?'

  `What?' Jessica sat bolt upright so that the mangled

  bedclothes slid finally and irretrievably to the floor. `I wondered,' Sue explained, sounding unhappy. `Yes, I am alone and have been so all night,' snapped

  Jessica. 'You ought to know me well enough not to have

  to ask that sort of question, Sue.'

  `I'm sorry.' But she sounded happier. 'Can I come along now, then? If I bring your breakfast?'

  Jessica snorted but said, 'All right. Give me five minutes to shower.'

  Sue actually gave her more like half an hour. When she arrived, the door to Jessica's cabin had been unlocked and Jessica herself was sitting in the window-seat under the porthole, flipping through some drawings. She looked up as Sue came in.

  `Good morning. How are you? I should have asked when you rang. Survived the party?'

  Sue sank down into an easy chair with a deep sigh. `Diabolical,' she said.

  Jessica was startled. 'What's wrong?'

  `Everything,' said Sue comprehensively. She looked very near tears.

  Jessica frowned. 'Hangover? Or worse?'

  `Hangover and worse,' Sue told her frankly. She looked round the cabin. 'Is there any coffee?'

  'Not yet. I thought you were bringing my breakfast with you. I'll ring for some.'

  'No, I've already talked to Enrico. It should be here any moment.'

  As she spoke there came a soft knock on the door and the steward appeared with a tray on which stood three gleaming silver pots, an assortment of delicate china and a basket of sweet rolls. Sue jumped up to clear a space on the low table in front of her chair. Enrico thanked her, depositing his burden.

  'I am sorry I have been so long, signorina,' he said formally to Jessica. 'There have been one or two problems this morning.'

  'I'm not surprised, given the size of the party you had to clear up after,' she told him with sympathy. 'What time did it finish?'

  He did not smile, which was unexpected. Normally Enrico was the friendliest of men.

  'It is not entirely the party, signorina. And it went on until four o'clock. One or two of the guests have stayed the night, I understand.'

  He bowed and went out. Jessica looked after him in bewilderment.

  'What was all that about? Is Enrico annoyed because I slept late or something?'

  Sue shook her head. 'I should think the poor man is going round in circles. All hell has broken loose this morning. You have no idea!'

  'Clearly not.' Jessica could not imagine what eventuality would upset the professionally smooth running of the yacht to the extent that Sue suggested. She looked at her secretary with narrowed eyes as she began to pour coffee. Sue was very pale and without make-up her freckles showed clearly. She looked tired too. Perhaps her sense of proportion had diminished in inverse ratio with her hangover.

  Jessica added milk to her coffee and passed it across to Sue with the sugar bowl.

  `Did you dance until four as well?' she asked gently.

  Sue accepted the coffee and groaned. 'I did indeed. I wish to God I hadn't. Everything you ever said about the corrupting influence of the rich and idle I now believe. My head feels as if there's a steam-hammer inside it!'

  Jessica found that Enrico had sent her a pot of her favourite hot chocolate. She poured it slowly into the gold-bordered cup.

  'Maybe it's accumulated hangovers that are giving poor Enrico hell.'

  Sue drank her coffee down in one draught. 'No,' she said. 'No, it's that damned inefficient, stupid, neurotic secretary.'

  Sue was normally a moderate girl. She took crises even-temperedly and, even when thoroughly put about by others' inefficiencies, was seldom heard to complain or apportion blame. She said she liked the challenge. At this uncharacteristic outburst, therefore, Jessica stared.

  `More coffee,' she said hurriedly, pouring it. 'What's wrong, Sue?'

  Sue's tired eyes met her own. 'She's lost the presentation. The whole thing. All seven copies of it,' she said in a despairing voice. 'Lost them!'

  Jessica sat down heavily on her window seat. She felt stunned.

  'But but how?' she asked at last.

  Sue shook he:. head. 'Don't ask me—I can't even begin to imagine. How can you lose two shelves full of heavy files? Unless she heaved the lot into the sea while she was sleepwalking,' she added waspishly. 'God knows she seems to be in a dream most of the time.'

  'What does she say happened?' asked Jessica, numb.

  'She doesn't. She cries, and shouts a lot. I think the

  woman's bats,' said Sue in disgust. 'First of all she tried

  to pretend that we hadn't given them to her, but fortunately Enrico giving us a hand with delivering them meant that I had a witness. So then she said it wasn't meant to be and it was a judgment.'

  'A judgment? On whom?' queried Jessica, by now quite bewildered.

  For the first time Sue began to look more of her usual lively self.

  'Well, I'm not at all sure about that. That was the point at which they started to shut her up and hustle me out of the room. But I think she meant it was a judgment on Prince Giorgio.'

  Jessica shook her head. 'I don't understand,' she said helplessly. 'I thought she was a hundred per cent on his side, right or wrong.'

  `Mmm, so did I.' For a moment Sue looked amused. 'I rather gathered there'd been a bit more than boss and secretary goodwill between them, in the past at any rate, though no one would think that today. She looked as if she hated him.'

  'Maybe she does,' said Jessica indifferently. 'But does she hate me too? What about all my work?'

  She frowned. What on earth could have happened? The secretary was a strange, neurotic woman, but Jessica did not think that she was as inefficient as Sue did. She had a cold feeling that something sinister was afoot.

  She looked at Sue, who was frowning impatiently. She was clearly annoyed but she did not seem suspicious. Jessica gave herself a little shake. She was becoming foolish, seeing conspirators everywhere. It was a holiday complex development, for heaven's sake, not a nuclear plant.

  Yet why had Leandro invited the local Mayor to the yacht in his uncle's absence? Surely he had not been playing politics? Could he have been trying to undermine his uncle's plans? His standing with the

  community? Yet he had said nothing that could sound like that at the time and nor had the Mayor. Jessica did not think that Simone Spinoletti would prove the most discreet of conspirators, either.

  She pushed a distracted hand through her hair, recalling the sharp exchange of words between Sandra and Leandro when Spinoletti came to dinner. Certainly Sandra had defended Prince Giorgio—and seemed to think that he needed defending against his nephew. She stood up, in some agitation.

  `They're searching the strong room now,' Sue told her, `in the faint hope that Sandra might have put them somewhere else.' She grimaced. 'I thought I'd better keep out of the way before I hit someone.'

  Jessica gave a faint smile. 'Sounds sensible.' She looked down at her chocolate. 'What on earth do we do now?' she queried musingly. 'I thought I was going to talk to Prince Giorgio this morning, but presumably that's out of the question now.'

&nbs
p; `I'd leave it,' agreed Sue. 'Why don't you go shopping or something? Hop into Portofino, buy some lace, go for a walk. Get out of this floating madhouse, anyway.'

  `Yes,' said Jessica with sudden decision. 'Yes, let's do that.' She hesitated, looking at the telephone. 'I suppose I just might. .

  `Leandro,' said Sue with some deliberation, 'is already ashore. Apparently he went with the dawn this morning and said he was going to Genoa. His car keys are gone anyway, or so Enrico tells me.'

  `I—see.'

  Jessica did her best not to feel let down. From Sue's expression it seemed that she was not doing very well.

  `Sightseeing the great healer,' Sue said gently. 'Come along. I'll buy you one of those outrageous ice-creams with cherries and strawberries and half a litre of alcohol.'

  Jessica gave herself a little shake and managed a lopsided grin at her secretary. `Oh, well, in that case. . she said.

  CHAPTER NINE

  IT was almost a good morning. The sun was brilliant and the little town was, as Sue said, like something out of a fairy tale. Jessica looked out for the painted windows and pointed them out to Sue whenever she detected a false shutter, or balcony. Sue was amused and very impressed. Jessica did not tell her that it was Leandro who had shown her what to look for.

  In fact, they did not mention Leandro at all. Sue seemed to have dropped her teasing approval of Jessica's supposed conquest. Indeed, they both steered the conversation away from anything approaching the personal.

  Sue bought some lace for her mother. Jessica looked at a designer suit in one of the very smart boutiques off the cobbled port and debated with Sue, over one of the promised ice-creams, whether its cut and admittedly charming colour were worth the price.

  The café they chose was overlooking the harbour and they saw various vessels from fishing boats to smart launches arrive and moor and depart. It was a busy scene, but casual. For all its carefree air, however, the port was full of some of the most smartly dressed people that Jessica had seen in years.