by Lucy Gordon
This was the monument to the love she’d witnessed in the photographs; love as it should be, still powerful after several years of marriage; love that was honest and faithful, that could be trusted until the last moment.
Love such as she had never known, and probably never would.
‘Bruno,’ she murmured, and on the word a thousand memories crowded in, all beautiful once, all tainted now with bitterness and betrayal.
How his eyes had shone and his smile had seemed for her alone. How skilfully he had inspired sensations she had thought never to feel. How easily she had taken the illusion for the reality!
Fool! Fool!
She leaned over slightly, looking into the water, seeing her own outline, her face in shadow, and the moon, high in the sky. But then she became aware of something else behind her, something that seemed to shimmer in the water. It might have been an illusion, but the hands on her shoulders were real enough.
She whirled, barely able to gasp his name.
‘Bruno!’
‘Hush!’ His hand was quickly across her mouth to silence her. ‘Hush, my love!’
She grew still, staring at him in disbelief. This couldn’t be happening. There was the handsome face that had so often made her heart beat faster. It was beating now, not with excitement but with anger.
‘You look surprised to see me, amore,’ he said persuasively. ‘Didn’t you know I’d come after you?’
‘I suppose I did if I’d thought of it. Maybe I just didn’t think about you very much.’
‘No, you forgot me in a moment,’ he said reproachfully. ‘How could you do that?’
‘I wanted to wipe you out of existence.’
‘But you can’t, can you?’ he said, drawing her into his arms. ‘You know that you and I are bound together.’
For a moment she tensed to throw him off. It was curiosity that stopped her. How would his kiss feel now that she knew the truth?
Immediately she knew that everything had changed. The touch that had once thrilled her with its promise now meant nothing. The hands whose caresses had been so exciting moved over her without charm or interest. Everything was dead. As dead as her heart.
But being dead was useful. If you couldn’t feel, you couldn’t be hurt, and what she needed to do was suddenly easy.
She allowed him to feel her relaxing in his arms and knew that she’d fooled him. He was so conceited that he thought this was going to be easy.
‘Holly,’ he murmured, ‘my Holly…’
Not his. Never again.
‘Bruno…’ she whispered.
‘I knew I’d find you waiting for me. Nothing can come between us-are you still mine?’
‘What do you think?’ she asked softly.
‘I think that now we’re together we must never be apart again.’
She pulled away from him. Now the decision was finally taken.
‘How did you find me?’ she asked.
‘I was on the train, with the police.’
‘And you told them about me.’
‘I had to. I had no choice. They beat me up.’
She faced him, almost laughing. ‘I don’t think so. Don’t insult my intelligence, Bruno. You did that in the past, but not now. You planted that picture on me, and then betrayed me.’
He sighed and abandoned his first strategy.
‘Only because you were stupid about everything,’ he said, exasperated. ‘None of this was my fault.’
Nothing would ever be his fault, she realised. All that mattered to him was himself, his own needs and feelings. Other people existed only to be useful. She felt a chill run through her as her heart slowed to a pace where she could think. Her thoughts were calm, purposeful, almost scary in their cool resolution.
‘How did you know to come to this house?’ she asked.
‘When the train drew in to Rome I saw you, just for a moment, and I recognised the man you were with. Fallucci tried a friend of mine last year, and I was in court when he passed sentence. Five years. He’s a hard man, without mercy. What a joke, you living in his house! Did it take you long to seduce him?’
She reacted too fast for thought, striking him across the face so hard that he nearly fell. He stepped back quickly, his hand to his face, staring at her, shocked.
Holly was aghast at herself. Never before in her life had she lost control. But his easy, cheap judgement had caused a furnace of rage and resentment to explode within her, making her lash out on blind instinct.
She backed off, breathing hard, afraid of this new self and what it was prepared to do.
‘I don’t think I deserved that,’ he said warily. ‘When I saw you walking out of that station I could have given you away to the police right then. But I didn’t.’
‘Of course you didn’t. You thought if you could escape from the police you could catch up with me later-’
‘So that I could throw myself at your feet-’
‘So that you could find out where the picture was-’
‘Why must you think the worst of me?’
‘Guess.’
He changed tack, putting his arms about her.
‘Let’s not quarrel. I’m sorry I made you angry. I shouldn’t have made that remark about seducing him. It’s just that you’re so beautiful you could seduce any man. I’ll bet he’s crazy about you already-’
‘I’m warning you-’
‘All right, I won’t say any more. I know you’re faithful to me.’
It was almost funny, the way this creature deluded himself. She wanted to laugh wildly.
‘You’ve been brilliant,’ he went on, oblivious, ‘and now we have everything waiting for us. Just get the picture, and we’ll be out of here.’
‘What?’ She couldn’t believe what she was hearing.
‘It’ll bring us a fortune, but we have to get back to England.’ His arms tightened. ‘I know you’re mad at me, but you’ll forgive me.’
Had there ever been a man so conceited? After what he’d done to her, he still believed that he had only to sweet-talk her and she would fall for him again.
From behind her there came a faint noise, but Bruno heard nothing. Absorbed in his performance, he was oblivious to all else. Suddenly she knew what she was going to do. The hot rage that had swept her had died, replaced by a freezing feeling that was delicious.
Time to stop being a little brown mouse. Time to stop taking it and start dishing it out.
‘Of course I want to be with you,’ she said, giving him a slow smile.
‘Then get that picture, quickly.’
‘I can’t. It isn’t here. I hid it.’
‘Where?’
‘In Roccasecca. I had to dump it somewhere and there was a church next to the station. I hid it behind the altar, in a little hole. It’ll still be waiting when someone goes to find it.’
He tensed. ‘Describe it to me exactly.’
She did so, watching his face in the moonlight, fascinated to see the perspiration as his excitement increased.
‘I’ve got to get there fast,’ he said, trying to pull away.
She made a play of holding on to him.
‘Not yet. Stay with me a little. I’ve missed you so much.’
‘And I’ve missed you,’ he said hurriedly, ‘but there’s no time to lose.’
‘But you’ll come back for me?’ She managed to put a note of pleading in her voice.
‘Of course I will.’
‘Promise?’ she asked urgently.
‘I promise, I promise. Now let me go.’
Bruno wrenched himself from her arms and made off down one of the paths. Holly waited until he was out of sight before glancing over her shoulder at the man who was no more than a shadow concealed by the trees, and saying, ‘Did you hear all that?’
CHAPTER SIX
‘I HEARD enough,’ said Matteo, coming out of the shadows.
‘I was afraid you’d appear too soon, and spoil it.’
‘I wouldn’t have spoilt it fo
r the world. How long did you know I was there?’
‘Only near the end, but it would have been the same whether you were there or not.’
‘I thought it was for my benefit.’
‘Some of it.’ She added with relish, ‘But most of it was for mine.’
In the darkness she couldn’t see the curious look he gave her, but she didn’t need to. She sensed it with every inch of her body and it filled her with satisfaction.
‘What are you going to do now?’ she asked, apparently casually.
‘I ought to alert the household to pick him up at the gate-or perhaps even the police-’
‘No,’ she said quickly. ‘Let him go.’
‘Mio dio!’ he said angrily. ‘Do you still have a soft heart for him, after the way he betrayed you? Are you mad?’
‘A soft heart?’ she demanded, outraged. ‘You saw what I did.’
‘Yes, I’ve never seen a woman strike a man so hard, with such passion-’
‘With such anger.’
‘Are they very different? Or are they two sides of the same coin? He had only to hint that you might look at another man, and you were ready to kill him.’
But the ‘other man’ was Matteo himself. Now she remembered more details of that conversation and she felt herself growing warm all over, as though her whole body was blushing. If he should think she was exerting herself to attract him she would die of shame.
To cool down she went to the monument and plunged her hands into the water, laving it over her face, discovering that once more her heart was pounding with a mysterious excitement that had nothing to do with Bruno.
‘I was ready to kill Bruno anyway,’ she said, forcing herself to speak sharply. ‘I’m not pining for him.’
‘I think you are, or you’d see yourself as you might have been, locked up, behind bars. And then you’d want to see him in the same place. Don’t yearn for an illusion, Holly. It’s a weakness you can’t afford. Get free of him now.’
‘And you think I’ll do it like that? I mean to get free, but it’s vital that you let me do it my own way.’
‘By letting him escape?’
‘The way I see it, he’ll never escape. You said he didn’t know the miniature had been found.’
‘Yes, I heard you tell him where it was…’ he said slowly as understanding dawned. ‘He’ll go there…be caught red-handed in the church, seeking something that he’ll never find because the police already have it.’
‘If you think you should alert the police, you’ll do so,’ she observed. ‘Personally I should prefer to think of him just searching-searching-’
‘Fruitlessly,’ he murmured. ‘He could be there forever.’
‘That’s what I thought.’
He stood before her and regarded her in the silver light. She met his gaze defiantly.
‘Maria vergine!’ he said with whispered admiration, ‘but you’re a cool one. So you too carry a stiletto.’
‘Not a bludgeon?’
His mouth twisted in irony. ‘I expect it’ll feel like one to him, but you wielded your knife with alarming skill. I’m sure you’re familiar with the term vendetta.’
Holly nodded. ‘Vengeance. Yes, I know what vendetta is. At least, I thought I knew until tonight.’
‘But now you’ve discovered it for yourself,’ he agreed. ‘And the reality is sweet, isn’t it?’
‘Oh, yes,’ she murmured, nodding. ‘It’s very sweet.’
‘Not just trading blow for blow,’ Matteo said, ‘but bringing down disaster on your enemy’s head, so that he knows he has more to fear from you than you from him. That is true vendetta, and I never saw a more cruelly effective example of it than tonight. My congratulations, Holly. I think you must have some Italian blood in you.’
‘Or maybe you’ve just misjudged the English,’ she mused.
‘That too is possible. Tell me, did you have no compunction about the fate you were preparing for him?’
‘None,’ she said harshly. ‘None at all. True, there was one moment when I wavered slightly-’
‘When he kissed you?’
She shook her head. ‘You over-estimate the power of a man’s embrace, signore.’
He gave a sudden grin. In that strange, cold light it had a wolfish look.
‘As do all men, so I’ve been told. We all believe that we have only to smile, to utter words of love, and the woman falls under our spell. The truth, of course, is that she despises us.’
‘It was his kiss that showed me the truth,’ she explained. ‘The magic was gone, and I could see the real man quite clearly.’
‘And then-?’
‘And then-’ she said slowly, ‘ven-de-tta.’
‘I will hope and pray never to incur your wrath,’ he said with grim satisfaction.
‘No need to hope. I’m in your debt.’
Together they walked back to the house, moving at a leisurely pace, like conspirators who’d brought off a successful coup and knew they could be at ease together.
In his study he poured her a glass of wine, and held it up in salute.
‘Magnifico,’ he said.
Holly laughed and clinked glasses with him, shaking her head as if in disbelief.
‘What is it?’ he asked, and she had the satisfaction of knowing that she’d baffled him, and it made him uneasy. ‘Why are you looking at me like that?’
‘I’m trying to understand what I’ve just learned about you.’
That bothered him, she was glad to see.
‘What-have you learned about me?’
‘I’ve just done something callous, unfeeling; something that nobody with a woman’s heart could do. Only a short time ago I loved that man, but tonight I revenged myself and tossed him into outer darkness. And I enjoyed every moment of it.’
‘I’m beginning to realise that.’
‘And you think better of me. Don’t try to deny it.’
‘I don’t want to deny it. Tonight you did several years’ growing up in one hour. I congratulate you. And you weren’t heartless. You defended yourself with sharp weapons, and he deserved his punishment.
‘Not that it’s a very terrible punishment. After a while he’ll give up searching and go away. He won’t have gained but he won’t have lost much either, and he’ll get off lightly. Your idea of outer darkness is really quite tame. But you’re a beginner. In time you’ll learn how to do it properly. But don’t ruin it now by blaming yourself. Would it be better to shrink into a corner and wail, “Poor little me!”’
‘No way,’ she said with a shudder. ‘It’s just that I’m not used to this “eye for an eye” business.’
‘Don’t worry. You’ve made an impressive start.’
‘How did you come to be there at that moment?’
As soon as the words were out she recalled, too late, that he visited his wife’s tomb every night.
‘It was pure chance,’ he said briefly. ‘I was taking the air. I’m glad it happened. Your conversation with your enemy was most illuminating. Don’t waste any tears on him, or anyone. It’s best if you get used to it. You’ll be safer that way.’
‘Don’t you ever forgive your enemies?’
‘Never,’ he said simply. ‘My enemy is my enemy for life. Basta! Once I know that, I would have no compunction about what I did.’
‘But that’s dangerous. What about the innocent who get caught in the crossfire?’
It was a remark at random, but it produced an astonishing effect on him. He backed off as though she’d struck him and his face grew visibly paler.
‘Mio dio,’ he whispered softly. ‘You know where to aim your stiletto. Do your eyes see every secret I have?’
‘No,’ she said, puzzled. ‘I can’t see your secrets. I’m not trying to pry. I only meant that you can’t simply give vengeance a free rein. It would be too cruel.’
‘This from a woman who’s just sent her lover out in the wilderness on a fruitless search.’
‘He deserved it. But I’
d back off before hurting someone else.’
‘Then you’re different from most women who don’t care who they hurt.’
He saw her regarding him with a frown, and said quickly,
‘Perhaps it’s time to go to bed. I think we’ve both had enough for one evening.’
‘Yes. Goodnight.’
It was a relief to be alone. As she climbed the stairs, hearing her own footsteps echoing on the marble floor, she knew that something had happened tonight, something she needed time to think about.
Matteo’s voice was echoing in her head.
‘We all believe that we have only to smile, to utter words of love, and the woman falls under our spell. The truth, of course, is that she despises us.’
In a blaze of illumination, she realised whom he had been speaking of.
It was his dead wife.
Holly had soon discovered that Liza was good at drawing, and the two of them spent happy times together with pencils and sketchbook. It was a pleasure to teach a child who learned so quickly, but sometimes she stepped back and gave Liza her own space, interested to see what she would produce. The results were revealing.
Liza had a gift for figures, and after a while Holly realised that Liza was producing the same picture over and over. It showed a happy family consisting of a mother, a father and a little girl. Sometimes the mother and child were shown together, sometimes the father and child. But she never drew the parents alone together.
Of course, she wouldn’t know how they looked when she wasn’t there, Holly reasoned. But still, this reticence struck her as strange. When she ventured to mention it Liza didn’t reply but her face held a withdrawn look, such as Holly sometimes saw on her father’s.
There were other things to puzzle her. Although sometimes Matteo almost seemed to avoid his daughter, she was often aware of him walking in the garden, not approaching them, but watching them from a distance. Once she tried to beckon him forward, hurrying through the trees to where she thought he was standing, but she was only in time to see him disappearing in the distance.
The hardest thing of all was that, on her return, Liza asked eagerly, ‘Was that Poppa?’
‘No, there was nobody there,’ she said quickly, unable to tell Liza that he had avoided them.
One morning a parcel arrived for her. Puzzled and intrigued, she pulled it open, and stared.