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It was nearly two days later that Francesca drove him to the airport to catch his flight back to Gatwick. Until then Ben hadn’t realised that she knew how to drive and it was obvious to him that she wasn’t very experienced. She clearly didn’t feel comfortable in the heavy traffic around the Naples ring road.
This may have been the cause of the brittle silence which reigned in the car as she drove and which contributed to the almost tangible atmosphere that surrounded them. It had been a difficult two days, dominated by the news of the continuing eruption of Solfatara which had consumed the last of the Vitelli. Fortunately the main volcanic activity had been contained within the existing crater and any wholesale loss of life had been avoided. Experts were confidently predicting that the volcano would gradually calm down over the next few months. It seemed to Ben that the Wolf had returned to its lair, having satisfied its hunger for the time being.
The happiest moment had been the reunion of Papa and Mama Cimbrone. No great outpouring of pleasure and gratefulness had occurred. In fact their meeting had been strangely free of gesticulations and shouting for Italians. But Francesca and Ben had watched their reactions with lumps in their throats. Mama had seemed to suddenly come alive again and to once more take up the reins of power in the family. She fussed around her husband, seeing to his every wish. And Papa had been to see his lawyers about setting up the Cimbrone business ready for his son to take over.
Now they were concentrating their efforts on getting Alfredo back to health to take over the running of the family businesses from his father’s old hands. At present he was in a secure clinic where it was hoped he could be weaned off the drugs introduced into his body by the Vitelli. The police had indicated that he was unlikely to be charged with Mancino Vitelli’s murder under the circumstances.
Ben had been to further interviews at the office which Jacob Smith had been loaned by the Italian police while he tried to tie up the ends of the operation and gain the maximum results in terms of arrests and information. However it seemed that the whole trail had gone cold. The police had picked up two more small middle-men but apparently those knew nothing beyond their contacts with the Vitelli.
“It’s usually like this,” said Smith morosely. “All we can do is nibble away at the little ones in the hope that we’ll catch a big boy some time or other. At least the Vitelli are out of the business.”
After their second meeting Smith decided there was nothing more that Ben could tell him so there was no reason to hold up his return to London. The business would be needing his attention. This was the moment of decision. Ben wrestled with it for a few hours before he made up his mind. He admitted that for some strange reason he didn’t really want to go back yet. His enthusiasm for work seemed to have been temporarily blunted. But every logical argument said that he should now leave Naples.
Papa had not been very well since his return to the damaged Villa Cimbrone. Understandably the family had been involved in the pleasures of reunion and the worries about Alfredo’s condition. Ben felt an intruder in these family matters. He thought he should leave the family on their own as soon as he reasonably could. So on the second night he announced that he had booked a flight to London for the next day.
Francesca said very little when she heard he was leaving. Ben waited in vain for some expression of regret, some suggestion that he should stay for a few more days. Instead she volunteered to run him to the airport. After that the subject appeared to be closed, as far as she was concerned. Ben was depressed by the finality of it all.
The last evening Francesca declined dinner and went to her room with a headache. Ben was disappointed because he had hoped to have a private word with her. This would have been their last opportunity. She never seemed to be available on her own to talk and discuss the possibility of something happening in the future. By now he was convinced that she was avoiding him.
Of course it was easy to understand why she would. No doubt she felt embarrassed about some of the things she had inadvertently said and done over the last few days. Probably she had accepted the fact that her family wouldn’t be at all pleased if she were to disclose to them that she had fallen for a middle-class English protestant.
So Ben had spent his last night dining alone with Mama. It had been a painful affair. Neither spoke much of the other’s language. Although she responded politely to his feeble attempts at Italian, he could sense that her attention was not with him. It was a relief at the end of the meal when old Emilio approached her and, after a few words, beckoned for Ben to follow him.
The old servant led him upstairs and took him to Papa’s bedroom. The lights were low and Signor Cimbrone lay with his wrinkled hand on the counterpane, breathing slowly and noisily. It seemed to Ben that his health was now worse than it had been when they were escaping from the Vitelli. He was worried about old man.
Papa raised his hand and signalled to Ben to approach the bed. The man spoke quietly in Italian, presumably thinking that Ben’s knowledge of the language was greater than it really was. Ben could understand almost nothing of what he said. Papa mentioned Francesca on two or three occasions and nodded appreciatively. Perhaps she had given him a good report. The old boy also talked about London and smiled and patted his hand. Ben wasn’t sure what he meant but he hoped he was receiving Papa’s agreement to his remaining in control of the London company. He told himself that he really must find the opportunity to ask Francesca whether she knew what was going to happen. But for now he just smiled and was profuse in his thanks and best wishes to the old man. Papa patted his hand again and gave him a cheery little wave of dismissal.
Ben backed away from the bed reluctantly. The old man’s eyes were closed even before he had left the room. Ben hoped fervently that this was only a temporary worsening of his condition and that he would soon be back in better health. Quite apart from Signor Cimbrone’s importance to his future, he had also grown rather fond of the old fellow during their escape from the Vitelli.
He didn’t feel he could pressurize the head of the family about formalizing an agreement at this stage. He decided he would definitely discuss it next morning with Francesca no matter what obstacles she tried to put in his path. He couldn’t leave without sorting out the original reason for his travelling to Italy.
That night he slept fitfully. Everything seemed to have died on him, leaving a flat taste in his mouth. In a way he had succeeded in what he had set out to do. But so much more had developed in the few days he had been here. When he returned to London the next day he would be leaving everything behind unresolved. The prospect of life back in England seemed insufferably dull.
The next morning started badly. Ben wasn’t quite sure what the reason was. When Emilio brought his breakfast there was a note on the tray. It was from Donna. It said: “I hear you’re quitting Naples tomorrow. Please call in to see me. I have something for you.”
At first Ben was cheered by this interest from someone whom he now thought of as an old friend. When he met Francesca in the hall he showed her the note and asked if they could leave early so that she could drop him at Donna’s hotel on the way to the airport. She agreed curtly. He glanced at her, aware that the request seemed to have upset her.
“I’ll only be there a few minutes. It shouldn’t delay us long.”
But his assurance didn’t seem to mollify her. All she said was, “Then we must be going very soon. Have you packed your things?”
“We’ve got more than four hours before the plane leaves.”
“You have to go to the bank and the traffic is very bad in Naples at this time of day.” Francesca was straight-faced. “I will bring the car to the front door in five minutes.”
“I must say goodbye to your father and mother and thank them for having me.”
She shook her head. “Papa is still asleep and mother is sitting with him. I will give your thanks to them later. Please be ready as soon as possible.”
She swept off down the corridor, ver
y much the fine lady with no time for Ben.
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