Rosemary By Any Other Name

by Anna Clarkson



  Rosemary By Any Other Name

  By Anna Clarkson

  Copyright 2013 Anna Clarkson

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient.

  The characters and events in this book are completely imaginary they bear no relation to any real person or events.

  Chapter One

  It was mid-morning as a tired, hungry and greatly discouraged Rosemary trudged slowly through the rain up a mountain road that seemed to go on forever. The backpack she carried was getting heavier with every step she took and the straps were digging uncomfortably into her shoulders. Her day having started badly had grown steadily worse and worse. She'd overslept and as a consequence, and despite spending some of her precious store of money on a taxi to the bus station, they'd missed their coach.

  The highly important coach which she had been relying on to get them over the border and into the comparative safety of Switzerland. Desperate to get out of Italy as quickly as possible Rosemary had at first been only

  to pleased to accept a lift when she was offered one by the very friendly middle-aged man who had also been making inquiries at the coach station.

  What she had not taken into account was that the pleasant man giving her the lift would expect payment in kind! He had seemed so nice middle aged plump and balding he had talked about his wife and family. He had a daughter almost her own age of whom he was very proud, so pretty, so well behaved not like some of these modern girls chasing after boys all the time. Then he had made a heavy pass at Rosemary, and turned nasty when very shocked, and angry, she had turned him down good and hard.

  He had been even angrier than she was, swearing nastily at her in before driving off the main roads into the middle of nowhere and dumping her at the roadside. Rosemary knowing she should be pleased that they had escaped so lightly had consoled herself with the thought that things were already so bad that they could only get better. It had been at this point that the rain had started.

  Lost in depression and trying desperately not to give in to the tears that pricked at her eyes, Rosemary didn't hear the car coming up the narrow road fast behind her. It was a voice calling out to her in Italian that drew her attention to the fact that they were no longer alone. A small shabby car well provided with rust and liberally splashed with mud had stopped close beside her. The driver getting no reply repeated his remark.

  “Non parlo Italiano.” Rosemary offered listlessly. “Sai parla Inglese.” The driver scowled at her from under arrogant black eyebrows and immediately switched to heavily accented but perfect English.

  “Why it is the English never learn any tongue but their own?” He remarked in a cold controlled voice.

  “Not all the British.” Rosemary returned in excellent Spanish before switching to French and continuing, “Are as insular as you appear to believe.” She finished in fluent German, “Especially in today's European trading partnership.”

  “It seems I should apologise.” The voice from the car remarked coldly, no trace of apology in his tone at all. “You had better get in. I'll give you a lift. Where are you going?”

  “Switzerland.” Rosemary told him shortly.

  She didn't really want to risk taking another lift but it was either that or walking for whoever knew how many miles in the rain, and she had no idea how far the next town or village was. Rosemary edged slowly around the car taking of her backpack and putting it onto the back seat before reluctantly climbing into the front passenger seat.

  The driver she noted, as she struggled with the seat belt, was in his late twenties and very good looking in a dark Italian fashion. When she continued her struggles with the seat belt he impatiently stopped the car again and leaned over to help her. However his composure received a shock when he put his arm across her and felt something move under her jacket.

  “Are you keeping something alive under there?” He exclaimed, showing the first sign of animation.

  Rosemary sighed ruefully and undid her jacket exposing the sleeping Ricardo in his baby sling. While she didn't understand the next remark the car driver ejected that didn't stop her glaring at him at him and snapping fiercely.

  “I'd rather you didn't swear in front of the baby.”

  “Isn't it a little young to understand?” The driver questioned indifferently raising his eyebrows at her tone, and then as she struggled out of the jacket he added thoughtfully, “I thought you were a boy.”

  He took the jacket from her and threw it carelessly onto the back seat then watched as she carefully threaded the seat belt between herself and the baby sling. She was very young he observed perhaps sixteen or seventeen, and while far too thin (as so many young girls were these day's) was quite definitely female.

  The baby he noted was also very young, probably just a few weeks old. It was olive skinned with a thatch of black hair, while in contrast the girl was red headed with cool blue eyes and a very pale skin. He indicated the arrangement she had contrived with the seat belt.

  “That looks very uncomfortable.” He remarked in his cold voice as he started to drive on again.

  “It is a little, but it's much safer for the baby.” Rosemary returned quickly.

  “May I ask its name and yours also of course?” He questioned, and Rosemary wondered if he was always this formal and why such a cold manner.

  “His name is Richard.” Rosemary returned emphasising his. ‘It’ indeed! Anger gnawed at her mind.

  “And yours.” He questioned again.

  “Mine.” Rosemary said her mind going blank. “Mary.” She managed finally relief clear in her voice.

  “Really.” He returned sceptically lifting his eyebrows again; he didn't believe her that was obvious.

  “Mary Rose Lamb.” Rosemary returned neatly, pleased with herself. “And yours, your name.” The driver paused for a moment before he offered slowly. “Vittorio.”

  Rosemary smiled she knew this wasn't true but since he didn't believe in the name she'd given she could hardly challenge his. Then in sudden amusement she remembered the cowboy book she had been lent on the long aircraft journey across the Atlantic.

  “That would be your summer name would it?” She asked, he glanced at her puzzled and raised his brows in question. Well she had succeeded in startling him again, though he was trying not to show it.

  “What are you doing on this road?” Vittorio asked thoughtfully. “Hardly the place to hitchhike. I would have expected you to choose the main roads. Should you be hitching on your own anyway, it could be very dangerous?”

  “I'm not on my own.” Rosemary pointed out. “And I didn't set out to hitchhike. Only Ricardo.”

  “I thought the child’s name was Richard.” Vittorio interrupted quickly. Rosemary started annoyed with herself; she really was no good at telling lies.

  “It is.” She snapped angrily. “He kept me awake half the night so we missed the bus. A man who was in the coach office offered me a lift.”

  “And you accepted a lift with a total stranger.” Vittorio interposed.

  “He looked perfectly respectable and he has daughters of his own.” She defended, but even to her own ears she sounded sulky.

  “I presume he turned out not to be respectable after all.”

  “No, and when I wouldn’t - co-operate he drove me here and dumped us.” She shrugged “It could have been worse.”

  “Very much worse for both of you.” Vittorio exclaimed irritation edging his voice. “I apologise for my fellow country man.” He went on smoothly, his brow wrinkled with thought. “However Marie Rosita I hope it will make y
ou more careful in the future. I think it will be as well if I undertake to escort you and the child into Switzerland.” If his voice hadn't been so cold his remarks would have been pompous!

  Rosemary didn't think it necessary to tell him her previous lift had been Swiss. She rather liked being called Marie Rosita she decided and it amused her to be scolded for taking lifts from strangers by a stranger who had just insisted on giving her a lift! At midday Vittorio stopped for lunch in a small village and Rosemary attracted more attention than she wanted by having to go to the kitchen to make up some bottles for Ricardo.

  “I thought mothers’ milk was considered better for babies.” Vittorio remarked with cold indifference as she joined him at the table. Rosemary starting to feed Ricardo glared at him angrily.

  “It may be best.” She snapped furiously. “But it's not always possible.

  It took all her self-control not to retreat into tears. She would have given anything for poor little Ricardo too have been able to feed directly from his mother.

  Vittorio had ordered lunch for her and Rosemary devoured everything that was put before her. She had not had time for breakfast, and, annoyingly, it appeared Vittorio had guessed this. In Vittorio's eyes she realised she was a bad mother, she bottle fed her child, accepted lifts from strange men and didn't even eat properly! If she didn't need this lift so badly it would have given her a lot of pleasure to start a fight with him! Sophie would have thrown something by now Rosemary thought tearfully. Vittorio didn't know how lucky he was to have met the placid Lampton sister.

  They had been back on the road for just over an hour when the car started to play up and Vittorio halted to look at the engine. After a few minutes he climbed back into the car, and Rosemary thought that he was not pleased although he showed very little emotion as he restarted the car.

  “Do you know what's wrong?” She asked diffidently.

  “No I'll have to stop at the next village, and have someone take a look at it for me.”

  “That will make it very late before we cross the border.” Rosemary pointed out in a worried voice. Vittorio gave her a sharp look.

  “I was intending to stop for the night anyway.” He informed her austerely. “I've been driving since very early this morning, and you are clearly exhausted. It will also be better for the child.”

  Rosemary wasn't pleased to hear this but there was nothing she could do about it. If only she hadn't overslept they would have been safely over the border by nightfall. The car continued running very badly and was overheating badly by the time they found a garage in a small hill village.

  Vittorio had a word with the mechanic and then drove the car on to stop outside the village Locanda. While Vittorio unloaded the backpack and a suitcase from the boot Rosemary climbed reluctantly out of the car. Vittorio had left the keys in the ignition as Rosemary hesitantly pointed out to him.

  “Someone’s coming down from the garage to pick it up.” He informed her in his cold precise voice.

  Inside the Locanda he put the luggage down before seating Rosemary at a small table while he went away to speak to the inn keeper. He had quite beautiful manners Rosemary realised thoughtfully. He was right as well she was exhausted the last few days had been almost too much for her. Vittorio soon returned followed by a young girl carrying a tray of coffee, he sat down opposite Rosemary and let her pour coffee for them both.

  “We have a problem.” He stated sipping at his coffee slowly. “They are not in the habit of letting rooms, however in the circumstances they are prepared to put us up for the night.”

  “And the problem.” Rosemary asked warily.

  “They only have one spare room, fortunately it has two beds.” Rosemary interrupted him.

  “Is this were you promise not to try and take advantage of me.” She asked and Vittorio's manner became, if possible, even colder.

  “Are you saying you would not believe me?” There was a faint sneer in his cold voice.

  Rosemary regarded him over the rim of her coffee cup, she was openly amused now. “Vittorio do you remember the Inn where we had lunch.” She enquired; he blinked clearly surprised at the apparent change of subject. “We were served by a very pretty young woman she kept trying to flirt with you.”

  “I really didn't notice, is there any point to this conversation.” Vittorio asked with impatient indifference.

  “That is the point.” Rosemary assured him bluntly. “If you didn't even notice a sexy little bit like that your hardly going to be bothering me. It's Ricardo who'll be bothering you I'm afraid.”

  “He wakes in the night.” Vittorio asked he had noticed that she had once again called the olive skinned baby Ricardo and not Richard.

  “He usually wakes twice a night.” Rosemary explained. “Do you think they would let me leave everything ready in the kitchen for his bottle? Then I would only have to boil a kettle and nobody else would have to get

  “I expect it can be arranged.” He returned coolly. “If you've finished your coffee. I'll see you upstairs and you can have a rest before we have dinner.”

  Rosemary had to admit that despite his cold formal manner he was a very thoughtful man. As she curled up to sleep on one bed with Ricardo on the other she realised she had been very lucky to meet Vittorio. Anybody could have come along he may not look like a Knight in shinning armour, but he was behaving like one. A Knight in a rusty car she giggled wearily as she went off to sleep.

  Rosemary managed to get two hours sleep before Ricardo woke her demanding attention, having changed him she went down looking for the kitchen to make up his bottle. The kitchen was easily found and Ricardo proved to be a big hit with the inn keeper’s family. They took it in turns to cuddle and admire him while Rosemary made up his bottle. It was here that Vittorio having looked for her in vain in the bedroom finally tracked her down. Rosemary was sitting in a large rocking chair with Ricardo on her lap; he had just finished his bottle. The inn family was busy cooking talking and quarrelling all around her. Rosemary sat in the middle of it all completely serene and undisturbed.

  As soon as Vittorio was noticed in the doorway he was overwhelmed with compliments on his little wife so young, such beautiful hair and their beautiful bambino. It was a good thing he thought, escorting Marie Rosita to the dining room, that she didn't understand Italian. After dinner with Ricardo fast asleep Rosemary was only too pleased to go back to bed. She was sleeping so deeply she didn't even notice when Vittorio quietly entered the room undressed and went to bed himself.

  She woke however at Ricardo's first cry, leaping out of bed with the baby in her arms and hurrying him out of the room before he could wake Vittorio. She raced down to the kitchen, Ricardo clutched tightly to her, afraid that he would rouse the household. The church clock struck two as she put the kettle on and started to change the baby. It took some time to boil the water and then to cool it down again by which time Ricardo was in a real paddy.

  “You'd think he was the one with the red hair.” She muttered as she coaxed him to take his bottle.

  Even after he'd been fed Ricardo refused to settle and Rosemary spent an hour walking up and down the kitchen with him tucked against her shoulder, while she sang nursery rhymes. When he finally went back to sleep it was almost four and Rosemary was asleep on her feet.

  Waking slowly the next morning she knew immediately something was wrong but it took several seconds for her to work out what it was. Then she jumped with shock the baby, who had been sleeping in the crook of her arm, was missing. Rosemary in a total panic, disregarding the fact that she was only dressed in an old cotton kaftan, ran out of the room and clattered down the stairs.

  She was met at the bottom by the inn keeper chattering at her in Italian as he led her into the kitchen. Where Ricardo was fast asleep on 'Grandmas' lap as she sat in the rocking chair. Somebody handed Rosemary coffee and then the whole family explained to her, in Italian and sign language, that il bambino had had his bottle and been changed. She was to sit down right now and h
ave some breakfast. She was far to thin, it was no wonder she couldn't feed her bambino herself.

  Rosemary ready to collapse with relief let them ply her with food and more coffee. Then she tried to ask about Vittorio, she hoped to goodness he hadn't abandoned them. Il marito she was given to understand had gone to see about the car. Since she wasn't wearing a ring and had only referred to him as Vittorio she could only wonder what he had been saying to them. Her husband indeed! Rosemary had just finished breakfast when Vittorio arrived looking for her.

  “What on earth is that you're wearing?” He asked puzzled.

  “It's a kaftan.” Rosemary explained with a sigh. “I know it's a bit colourful but it's very sensible bed-wear if you’re going to have to get up in the night.”

  “Perhaps you would like to get properly dressed and then join me for some more coffee.” Vittorio suggested politely.

  Rosemary looked at him warily she suspected something more was wrong with the car than they had thought. She collected Ricardo from Grandma thanking her for looking after him and went quietly upstairs and dressed herself and Ricardo before packing their things away.

  Vittorio was already drinking coffee by the she got back downstairs. He rose to his feet as she approached and having pulled out a chair for her sat her down at the table and poured her some of the coffee. His manners might be cold and formal but Rosemary, not being used to being looked after, decided she rather liked them.

  “They are not going to be able to fix the car.” Vittorio announced calmly.

  “Why not, what's wrong with it.” Rosemary asked unhappily.

  “It needs some new parts.” Vittorio explained. “Apparently by the time they've been ordered and fitted I'd have spent more money than the car is worth. Also it would take several days for the parts to come.”

  “What on earth am I going to do now?” Rosemary wondered aloud, she was very worried now and a little afraid. She didn't know if anyone was searching for her but she had to presume they were and here she was stuck in a little mountain village in the middle of nowhere!

  “There's a bus that runs through the village in about an hour to Milano.” Vittorio told her quietly. Rosemary pictured the map of Italy in her mind.

  “Milan is south of here.” She objected. “Switzerland is north.”

  “Yes.” He agreed placidly. “But there isn't a bus to Switzerland. We're lucky to get the Milano bus it only runs twice a week.”

  Rosemary considered she was not at all happy with the situation; in fact she was beginning to feel trapped in this village.

  “In Milano we can pick up some new transport.” Vittorio went on with irritating calmness. “Please leave it to me Marie Rosita. I said I'll escort you and the child to Switzerland or wherever else you want to go. Apart from Switzerland were you heading for anywhere in particular or just travelling.”

  Rosemary was suddenly irate, so now she was an irresponsible youngster wandering aimlessly around Europe trailing a baby in her wake.

  “Cambridge.” She snapped her eyes glittering angrily. “I start University next term.”

  Vittorio, although he was careful not to show it, was startled at this piece of information and not sure if he should believe it. Marie Rosita didn't look old enough to be a University student and there was the infant. Since she was so clearly annoyed he decided not to challenge her.

  The bus journey to Milan soon became a nightmare for Rosemary. Ricardo refused his bottle and screamed for a solid hour. When he wasn't screaming he was crying or grumbling. Since he was also dribbling freely Rosemary suspected he was teething only she had thought he was too young! She wished she knew more about babies. Ricardo disturbed everyone on the bus and Rosemary was embarrassed and upset. Any chance they might have had of passing unnoticed was gone. Nobody on the bus was likely to forget them in a hurry.

  It was getting late when they finally arrived in Milan. Rosemary didn't know where they were going to go now, and she didn't much care. Vittorio looked her over hard in the bus station.

  “I have the key to a friend’s apartment it's not far, but I think we should get a taxi.” Rosemary shook her head.

  “If it's not far I'd rather walk, I'd really like to stretch my legs in the fresh air for a while after being cooped up on that bus.” As it turned out it was only a ten minutes’ walk to the apartment, and Rosemary felt much fresher for the walk.

  The apartment was up two very steep flights of steps. It was only a small place, one large room with a passage behind off which was a small bedroom and a tiny bathroom. Ricardo had finally screamed himself into an exhausted asleep and Rosemary was pleased to be able to put him down at long last.

  “Do you think he's ill?” Vittorio asked a little uncertainly. “I could get a doctor if you would like.”

  “Oh no!” Rosemary exclaimed. “That's not necessary, I think he's teething. If we could find a chemist tomorrow. Something to rub on the gums.” She said tiredly. “And perhaps a painkiller, only I know you don't give children aspirin not anymore.”

  “You'd better have a rest while he's asleep.” Vittorio said he pulled her to her feet and led her through to the bedroom. “I'll go out and get us something to eat, I won't be long.”

  Rosemary wrapped up in a blanket on the bed was asleep before he left the apartment. She slept until Ricardo woke her with his fussing. Stumbling through to the sitting room her jeans and jumper crumpled and her short hair all on end, she found Vittorio trying to make sense of the instructions on the side of a tin of baby milk.

  “You'd better let me do that.” She told him. “I've had plenty of practise.” Vittorio thankfully gave the tin to her.

  “I didn't realise it could be so complicated.” He remarked wryly “I'll make you some coffee.”

  Rosemary was grateful, she made up three bottles, putting two in the fridge to keep for night feeds. The other she left to cool while she carried Ricardo through to the bathroom and changed him. The coffee was ready by the time they returned it was nice having help Rosemary thought. She wondered, not for the first time, how she was going to manage back home in Cambridge with a baby and the University.

  Vittorio had found a shop still open and now that Rosemary was up started to unpack bread, butter, tubs of salads and cold pasta dishes. He must have been hungry, they hadn't eaten since midday, but he had waited for her to wake up. Such lovely manners Rosemary thought she really was not use to such consideration.

  “I thought we could stay here two nights.” Vittorio said over supper. “That will give me time to pick up another car and you time to recover. There is a chemist just around the corner I noticed. Also if you need more nappies and baby food there's a supermarket just beyond that.”

  Rosemary nodded she would have preferred to get out of Italy as soon as possible but knew she needed to rest. It wouldn't help Ricardo if she became ill; things were bad enough as it was. After supper she started to clear the table intending to wash up

  “Leave those.” Vittorio told her. “I'll see to them. I turned the water heater on when we arrived, why don't you have a bath?” Rosemary could have kissed him at the very idea. The bus journey had been hot and she hated feeling sweaty and dirty.

  The bath was old and chipped but large and clean. Rosemary having washed and soaked herself stripped Ricardo and took him into the bath for a few minutes with her. Ricardo loved it and seemed happy for the first time in a couple of days. He had fallen into a deep asleep before she had even finished dressing him.

  Rosemary wrapped the sleeping Ricardo up in a blanket and put him in the middle of the bed. Then with her hair still damp and dressed only in her kaftan wandered out into the sitting room in the hopes of more coffee. The dishes had been washed and put away and Vittorio was sat reading with a tray of fresh coffee beside him. There were two cups on the tray and he put down his paper and poured her out a cup.

  “What did you call that garment?” He enquired idly inspecting it. Rosemary frowned at him.

  “It's a ka
ftan, and it's very comfortable and sensible.” She replied huffily.

  “It's horrible!” Vittorio returned dispassionately. “Couldn't you have found one in colours that didn't clash quite so much?” Rosemary glared at him then laughed abruptly.

  “You sound just like my sister.” She said. “I expect you have good colour sense too. Sophie always says I haven't.” She stopped dead she didn't want even to think about Sophie. It was days since her name had even passed her lips.

  “Will your sister be in Cambridge to help you with Ricardo?” Vittorio asked Marie Rosita had seemed to him a solitary person and he was surprised to find she had a sister. Rosemary put down her coffee half drunk and spoke abruptly.

  “I think I'll go to bed. Where will you sleep?”

  “I'll make up a bed on the settee.” He returned watching her quietly.

  “What about bedding.” Rosemary questioned.

  “It's kept under the settee, it unfolds.” Rosemary nodded her understanding.

  “Good night.” She said quietly as she left the room. Buona notte.” Vittorio returned, surprisingly the mention of her sister had badly upset the little Marie Rosita the child had looked to him on the verge of tears.

  Ricardo woke only once during the night and Rosemary managed to sneak into the living room and boil a kettle to heat his bottle without waking Vittorio. He had been so kind and she didn't want him to get sick of them too quickly. The second time Ricardo woke it was after six Rosemary fed him again and then curled up in bed with him playing with him and singing to him. She would have liked some tea but with Vittorio still asleep she thought it better to stay quietly in bed. Eventually they both went back to sleep.

  They were still asleep when Vittorio, having got up himself looked in on them. It was almost nine when Rosemary woke again; Ricardo was still asleep so she slipped quietly out of bed. She dressed quickly if they were going to stay here all day she would have a chance to wash out her clothes. Vittorio had made more coffee and there was bread and things left from supper.

  He was very quiet this morning, and Rosemary thought he had something on his mind. She only hoped he wasn't going to change his mind about taking her and Ricardo out of Italy with him, if he did she was not sure what she would do. Vittorio waited until she had finished her breakfast before saying, as Rosemary started to clear the table.

  “Leave the dishes for now I want to talk to you.” Oh dear Rosemary thought here it comes. “I phoned Stefano this morning.” Vittorio went on.

  “Stefano?” Rosemary queried quickly.

  “This is his apartment. It was his cousin’s car that broke down on us.” Vittorio explained succinctly, before going on, “Stefano passed on some gossip he thought might amuse me.”

  Rosemary was totally confused she didn't see what this had to do with her unless of course! A look of horror passed over her face, Vittorio watching her closely, continued dryly.

  “Gossip about the Alessi family, a missing baby and a red headed visitor.” He said gently. “I think it would be a good idea if you told me all about it, don't you?” Rosemary stared at him as she considered the matter carefully.

  “Would you mind telling me exactly what your friend said?” She asked finally. Vittorio nodded his agreement she was less likely to lie to him if she knew how much he already knew about the matter.

  “A rumour is running about Rome that the Alessi family had employed private detectives to trace their grandchild who had been abducted by a red headed English girl.

  This is causing much amusement since the Alessi family is very straight laced, I hope I have the right expression, and none of their children are married.” He paused for a moment before going on more even more gently. “I wouldn't have thought you were Ricky Alessi's type.” He looked her over assessing.

  “The Alessi's are friends of yours.” Rosemary asked unhappily.

  “No.” Vittorio assured her carefully. “I would far rather consider myself their enemy.” Rosemary looked at him in surprise. If what he said was true! “Where did you meet Ricky Alessi?” Vittorio questioned.

  “I never met Ricky.” Rosemary informed him Vittorio raised his eyebrows disbelievingly at this and Rosemary sighed and said. “I'd better get the file.” Before getting up and going to the bedroom.

  The file Vittorio thought why on earth the girl needed a file. Rosemary returned quickly with a slightly dog-eared file unearthed from the bottom of her backpack. She opened it and produced a photo which she handed to Vittorio. It was a photograph of Ricky Alessi in front of his racing car with his arm about a tiny blond girl in her very early twenties. The girl was holding out her left hand to show off the ring she was wearing. They both looked happy even joyful.

  “That's my sister.” Rosemary explained softly. “Sophie, she took a year off from university and did some travelling and that's when she met Ricky.”

  “I heard that Ricky was engaged to an American.” Vittorio mused. “His parents were furious.”

  “Sophie and Ricky met in America.” Rosemary agreed. “They had only been engaged two months when Ricky died. So stupid, a racing driver being knocked down in the street.”

  “What happened to your sister?” Vittorio questioned softly.

  “They were in Mexico when Ricky died, Sophie was ill, from the shock I think. I went out to Mexico to be with her.” Rosemary stopped.

  “She was pregnant.” Vittorio suggested encouraging her to continue.

  Rosemary nodded “We only found out when we were planning to return. Sophie decided to stay in Mexico until after she had had the baby as if by staying in Mexico she was closer to Ricky. Could I have some more coffee please?” She asked her throat was dry. Vittorio rose and poured her some, as she sipped at the cup he picked up the file.

  “May I.” he asked formally Rosemary nodded her head she was trembling as if from cold.

  The papers in the file were in neat chronological order; letters from Sophie to her sister, one from Ricky addressed to his new little sister. It was clear, to Vittorio’s surprise, that Ricky Alessi had been very serious about his engagement. The file contained a copy of Ricky's death certificate and also that of Sophia Helen Lampton giving the cause of death as childbirth. Vittorio looked across at Rosemary who explained falteringly.

  “She went into labour a month early and died in the ambulance on the way to hospital, they couldn't stop the bleeding. Ricardo was lucky to survive.” Rosemary was holding the coffee cup tight between two hands her knuckles were white and she was trembling.

  “The doctor told me that they might not have been able to save her even if she had been in the hospital before labour started. He said if she had been in a large teaching hospital in America or Britain then she might have lived” She was crying openly now.

  Vittorio looked through the rest of the file leaving Rosemary to recover her composure. There were two birth certificates in the name of Ricardo Thomas Lampton, one Mexican and one issued by the British consul. There was also a custody order issued by a Mexican court giving custody ‘of the child Ricardo Thomas Lampton’ to his aunt Rosemary Jennifer Lampton.

  “I think I prefer Marie Rosita to Rosemary.” He remarked coolly Rosemary smiled through the tears on her cheeks.

  “I've gone off Rosemary myself. The British consul’s wife bought some rosemary and made it into a wreath for Sophie. It was kind of her but I keep remembering that line I don't remember where it's from. ‘Rosemary that's for remembrance pray love remember’ and I don't want to remember.”

  “Why did you bring Ricardo to Italy you can't have expected Ricky's parents to welcome him.” Vittorio inquired.

  “I didn't know them then did I?” Rosemary exclaimed angrily! “I'm seventeen; I won't be eighteen until Friday. I live in a basement; the money we get from letting the rest of the house pays the mortgage we had to get to restore the house. It's a listed building and we or rather I can't sell it until I'm twenty five. Sophie and I have some money but it's in a trust and very badly invested.”


  “And you thought Ricardo might be happier with his rich Italian relatives.” Vittorio suggested calmly.

  “I thought they could give him a better start in life than he would get as part of a one parent family in Britain. Ricky had parents, a brother, sisters, aunts, uncles. Ricardo would have had cousins to grow up with. All I have is me a mother I haven't seen since I was three, and some distant cousins in Australia.” Rosemary finished angrily. “Having Ricardo meant that I still had a part of Sophie I thought his grandparents might have felt the same.”

  “Not the Alessi's.” Vittorio retorted sharply.

  “Yes well I know that now.” Rosemary replied. “I thought at the least they had the right to have a say in Ricardo's future, I wanted to keep him myself but I thought they could offer him more.”

  “What did they offer him?” Vittorio asked. There was rage in her voice when she answered even after four days she was just as angry as she had been at the time.

  “They wanted to farm him out to some poor family with a lot of children who could be paid a small sum to keep him. Sophie and Ricky's son to be hidden away. When I said I would take him to Britain with me they locked us in.”

  “They did what.” Vittorio exclaimed beneath his cold manner she could sense his anger. “How did you get away?”

  “I threw the backpack out of a window and climbed down after it.” Rosemary explained shortly.

  “With the baby tied to your front in that sling thing.” Vittorio commented. His blood running cold at the risk she had taken.

  “Well I couldn't let them just pay someone to take him away, like an unwanted kitten. Ricky's sister said.” Rosemary stopped dead.

  “Beatrice.” Vittorio questioned quickly. “Go on Marie Rosita you'll feel better when you've told someone. What did Beatrice say?”

  “She said it was a pity he didn't die when his mother did.” Rosemary sounded guilty as she added, “I threw a tray at her.”

  “Did you hit her?” Vittorio asked interested.

  “No she ducked.” Rosemary returned irritated, obviously Beatrice should have stood still to be hit Vittorio thought.

  “Pity.” He commented and Rosemary giggled softly before becoming serious again.

  “I was going to take Ricardo to Cambridge and have him ward of courted.”

  “Ward of what.” Vittorio asked puzzled.

  “Have him made a ward of the High court in London. The High court then becomes his legal guardian and he couldn't be removed from the country without the courts consent. The court would also decide who should have custody.”

  Vittorio read carefully all the papers in the file while Rosemary wondered what he was going to do about her and Ricardo. Finally he looked

  “Clearly the only thing for me to do.” He remarked coolly. “Is to escort you and Ricardo safely to Britain.”

  “Do you really mean that?” Rosemary asked then, when he raised his brows at her looking colder than ever, added quickly. “Off course you do, thank you.”

  “It suits me to assist you.” He retorted austerely, Rosemary gave him a long considering look before saying diffidently.

  “May I ask you a question?”

  “If you wish.” He shrugged indifferently.

  “Who are you running away from?”

  Vittorio dropped the papers he was holding onto the table and shot a vitriolic glance at Rosemary. “Would you like to explain that question?” He asked his voice frigid. Rosemary calmly listed the things she had noticed.

  “Your clothes are expensive, you’re wearing a gold watch and gold cuff links and you're obviously used to having money, but you were driving a car more suited to a penniless student. You told them at the inn that I was your wife, when most men temporarily saddled with a girl they took to be an unmarried mother would be at pains to make it clear the baby was not theirs. You were using a back road to get out of Italy, keeping of the main roads. You paid the Inn with cash not a credit card and gave a false name. Also you were far too eager to look after us, if you had been.” She paused. “Trying to make up to me! It would have been understandable but you weren't. I was happy to use you as camouflage and I wondered if you were doing the same.”

  Vittorio was stunned he had thought this girl was naive and far too trusting. Now it seemed she hadn't missed anything on their journey.

  “I thought you didn't speak Italian.” He commented.

  “I don't, but I have been in the country a week and I know some Latin also I speak Spanish. Vittorio I don't want to know all your private affairs. But I would like to know, I think I have the right to know if I'm likely to find the police on our trail as well as private detectives.”

  For a few seconds it looked to Rosemary as if Vittorio was going to explode then, quite suddenly he laughed.

  “So little Marie Rosita you think I could be Mafiosi?” He asked, since he appeared to have recovered his temper, Rosemary decided to be truthful.

  “This is Italy.” She pointed out. “But actually I thought you were probably running away from some woman or other.” She admitted.

  She had succeeded in stunning Vittorio twice in the space of as many minutes. He looked seriously at her he was going to have to change all his views of her. And it might be safer to give her at least the outline of the story.

  “You are almost right.” He told her. “My father has arranged a marriage for me to a suitable rich Italian bride.” He didn't think it necessary to tell her his father’s choice was Beatrice Alessi. “He has cut of my allowance from the family estate, and had me removed from the board of the family firm until I comply with his wishes.”

  “You don't have money of your own.” Rosemary asked warily she didn't want to seem to be prying.

  “I had.” Vittorio admitted. “My father always encouraged me to be extravagant however.”

  “I expect he didn't like you being too independent of him.” Rosemary remarked.

  Vittorio again was impressed this girl hadn't even met his father but she had reached the sort of understanding of his character that had taken Vittorio years to achieve.

  “What are you going to do; you're a bit old to start training for a job.” Rosemary remarked then stopped abruptly and flushed “I'm really sorry.” She said. “It's none of my business what you do is it? Only I don't like you paying for things me and Ricardo if you are almost broke.”

  “I still have a good deal more money than my father realises, you don't need to worry about me. Assisting you and Ricardo will help satisfy my.” He paused. “My grievance against the Alessi's. Ricky was the only member of that family whom I didn't dislike intensely.”

  Rosemary didn't like the tone of voice Vittorio used when speaking of the Alessi's she suspected he hated the family with a passion that made her disliked of them pale into insignificance.

  “While my family will not go to the length of putting detectives on my trail nobody would expect to find me trailing a child.” Vittorio went on coolly.

  “Out of character.” Rosemary suggested.

  “Very much so.” He agreed suavely.

  Ricardo now started to make himself heard again and Rosemary went and fetched him. Despite being cleaned and fed he continued to scream.

  “I'm sure he's teething.” Rosemary exclaimed distracted. “But I thought he was too young I wish I had some books on babies. I'll take him down to the chemist” She went on, fetching her jacket.

  “No, I don't think that's a good idea.” Vittorio argued Rosemary looked around in surprise. “That red hair is altogether too noticeable.” Vittorio explained. “I'll go and anyway I hardly think your Italian is up to it.”

  Vittorio was gone only a quarter of an hour and returned with paste to rub on Ricardo's gums and a nasty sticky yellow liquid painkiller for infants. He had also brought a few groceries.

  “I'm going to go out again.” He remarked. “There should be enough for lunch in the bag. There may be a package delivered for me it will be addressed to Stefano and will com
e by special messenger. Will you write out a shopping list of anything you need for yourself and the baby, and Marie Rosita.” He continued sternly. “Put down everything you need and don't worry about the money. You seem to have very little luggage with you.

  “I couldn't see the point in bringing anything I couldn't carry.” Rosemary explained.

  “Well if it will fit in a car put it on the list.” He told her.

  Rosemary had the distinct impression Vittorio was up to something, but it wasn't her business, so she wrote out a short list. Disposable nappies, baby milk, bottle sterilizing tablets, baby wipes, and a spare sleep suit. There was nothing on the list for herself Vittorio noted.

  “I'll probably be awhile since I will need to rent or buy a car. And before you ask yes I can afford it. I need to think about what to do, how to get you and Ricardo out of Italy, and.” He stopped

  “And how to spite your father.” Rosemary offered she then wished she hadn't in case she had annoyed him.

  “Now I wouldn't have put it that way.” Vittorio returned icily.

  “No and I shouldn't have either.” Rosemary apologised.

  “Even if it's true.” Vittorio asked more mildly.

  “Especially if it's true.” Rosemary retorted.

  “Don't leave the apartment, and try and get some rest.” Vittorio said as he left the flat.

  “Well.” Rosemary said to the still tearful Ricardo “I think that rather depends on you doesn't it.”