Accidentally Expecting!

CHAPTER NINE

THE ‘willing slave’ fantasy kept them entertained for a while. Unlike many men, Dante was totally relaxed with it, his masculine confidence too powerful to be disturbed by such a joke.

They played it out in the bedroom, with her indicating her requirements and him following to the letter, both enjoying the challenge, laughing, not thinking any further. That was how they both preferred it.

One morning as they were preparing to go out the phone rang, and it was Gino.

‘The film crew have left,’ Dante informed Ferne when the call was over.

‘Already?’

‘There was some sort of a kerfuffle; Sandor threw a fit and everyone was out in an hour. Now we’re needed to sell the place.’ He looked at her, smiling. ‘Ah, well, I guess it was too perfect to last for ever.’

‘Nothing lasts for ever,’ Ferne said lightly.

‘That’s what I say.’ Then he sighed and added ruefully, ‘But sometimes it would be nice if it did.’

They spent two days at the Palazzo Tirelli before heading back to Naples, where they moved into a small apartment belonging to a friend of Dante who was currently away.

On the first night back they went to dinner at the Villa Rinucci. Hope broadcast the event to the family, inviting everyone to drop in. But for her the real point of the evening was to see with her own eyes that Dante was in good health, and even better spirits.

‘He’s told me all about it,’ she said when she and Ferne had a moment alone in the kitchen. ‘You actually slapped Sandor Jayley’s face because you prefer Dante?’

‘I’d have slapped his face anyway,’ Ferne protested. ‘It had nothing to do with Dante.’

‘Oh, come! What about that big offer you turned down?’

‘Well, I had to, after I made you a promise. Hope, Dante and I are ships that pass in the night, we both know that. We’re having fun, but it can’t last. He’s not in love with me, and I’m not in love with him.’

Hope didn’t reply in words, but her cynical gaze was answer enough. A moment later Toni called, and they both went out to where everyone was lounging in the garden as the evening wound down.

Ferne wished she could speak openly to Hope and tell her that love was impossible because she simply wouldn’t allow it to happen.

She knew she had been lucky as few women were ever lucky. Dante was a gentle and considerate man. If she was tired, he would urge her to bed, kiss her gently and either hold her until she slept or creep away, leaving her in peace.

When they talked, he listened to her with every appearance of real interest. His own conversation was fascinating. Beneath the sometimes clownish exterior was a thoughtful, educated man who might well have been a professor in some serious subject.

In bed he was a skilled and tender lover, giving her a physical pleasure she had never dreamed possible, and treating her like a queen. On the surface no woman could have asked for more.

But in her heart she had the melancholy feeling that it was all a sham, an illusion, because he was hiding the most important part of himself from her. And while that was true it would protect her from falling deeply in love with him.

She reassured herself about that many times.

Their apartment was high up on the fifth floor of a block overlooking the Bay of Naples. From their bedroom window they could see the great volcano Vesuvius in the distance. Several times she woke to find him on the window seat, contentedly watching the full moon across the bay casting its glow on the volcano.

One night he stayed up late, leaving her to come to bed alone. She’d waited for him, then fallen into a half-sleep. Somewhere in that doze she’d thought she felt a gentle kiss on her cheek, but when she opened her eyes she was alone.

She’d slept again, and had finally woken to find him sitting by the window. This was different from last time, when he’d sat with his head in his hands, clearly in pain. Now he seemed content, gazing out, still in the same thoughtful mood as before. When he saw that she was awake, he didn’t speak but held out an arm for her to come and join him.

‘Do you remember when we looked at this before?’ he murmured.

‘Yes, and you told me you’d once heard it rumble and longed to hear it again,’ she said. ‘There’s nowhere to get away from it, is there? Wherever you are in Naples, it’s always there.’

‘You think you’re used to it,’ he murmured. ‘You know it in all its phases, but you can still be taken by surprise.’

She watched him, wondering what he would say next. He’d been in a strange mood for the last couple of days, with less to say than usual. He didn’t seem sad or unwell, merely thoughtful. Occasionally she would look up to find him watching her with eyes that were almost puzzled, as though something had disconcerted him. If he caught her glance, he would smile and turn quickly away.

‘What have you been taking for granted?’ she asked him now.

‘Everything, perhaps. You think you know how things are, but suddenly it’s all different. You’re not the same man you were-whoever that was.’

He gave a brief, nervous laugh, sounding mysteriously as though he had no self-confidence. ‘I’m talking nonsense, aren’t I?’ he said.

‘Mmm, but go on. It sounds good.’

‘Yes, nonsense can sound very impressive. I learned that long ago. You can even impress yourself with it for a while. But-then the volcano rumbles and reminds you of things you’ve always known, and maybe wish you didn’t.’

Ferne held her breath. Was Dante finally going to tell her the truth about himself, thus letting her come really close to him at last?

‘Are you afraid of the volcano?’ she whispered. ‘I mean, the one inside?’

‘Yes, although I wouldn’t admit that to anyone but you. I’ve never even admitted it to myself before, but I feel I could tell you anything and it would be all right. I need never be afraid again.’ He added wistfully, ‘Could that ever really be true?’

‘I suppose it would depend how much you wanted it to be true,’ she ventured. ‘If you trusted me…’

‘I trust you as I’ve never trusted anyone in my life. If not you, then who?’

He took her hands in his, bending his head to kiss the palms.

‘You have such tiny, delicate hands,’ he whispered. ‘Yet they’re so strong, so welcoming. When they reach out, they seem to contain all the world.’

‘I would give you the world if I could,’ she said. It was a dangerous thing to say, but the words seemed to come out of their own accord. ‘If it were mine to give.’

‘Perhaps it is and you don’t know it.’ He stroked her face with tender fingers. ‘Sometimes I think I know more about you than you know about yourself. I know how loving and honest you are, how brave, how open-hearted.’

‘It’s an illusion,’ she said. ‘That’s a fantasy figure you’ve created.’

‘Why do you say that?’

‘Because nobody could be the way you see me.’

‘Why? Because I think you’re perfect?’

‘That proves it’s an illusion.’

‘No, it proves I’m a man of insight and good sense. Now, don’t argue with me. If I say you’re perfect, you’re perfect-and I do say it. I know you could never perform a deceitful or underhand action.’

His words, spoken so warmly and with such emotion, gave her a bad moment. The knowledge of her deception, however well-meaning, seemed to hang over them, poisoning the moment.

‘Dante-’

His finger lightly touched her mouth. ‘Don’t spoil it.’

Don’t spoil it. The words were like a bitter reproach.

But it wasn’t her fault, she thought wildly. She was protecting him, but that innocent desire had led her up this path, fraught with danger.

‘Let me say what I want to before I lose my nerve,’ he murmured.

‘I can’t see you ever losing your nerve.’

‘That’s an act. Inside I’m a coward. If you only knew how much of a coward, you’d run away. And that’s what you ought to do.’

‘Isn’t that for me to decide?’

‘How can you, when you don’t know the worst of me?’

‘Then tell me the worst. I’m braced for anything.’

‘You make a joke of it, but there are things…’

‘Yes?’ she said eagerly.

‘Ferne…’ She felt a tremor go through him. ‘Have I imagined what’s been happening to us?’

Now her heart was beating so hard that she couldn’t speak, only shake her head.

‘I know I said “just friendly”,’ he whispered. ‘But I say a lot of things that are nonsense. I guess you know that by now. When we talk-and I’ve never talked to anyone the way I talk to you-I always feel that you understand everything I’m not saying. With you, I don’t have to worry. I can be at peace.’

He made a wry face, aimed at himself. ‘I never thought the day would come when I saw peace as a virtue. I was always one for racketing around. Yes, you knew that, didn’t you?’ His soft laughter joined hers. ‘I don’t suppose there’s much about me you haven’t worked out: clown, idiot, self-deceiver, overgrown schoolboy.’

‘I could add a few others,’ she teased.

‘I’ll bet you could.’

‘Then how can you say I don’t know the worst of you? I probably think you’re worse than you are. Why don’t you put me right?’

‘Tell you what a hero I am? What a strong, solid, upright character who never cut corners or skirted around the truth in his life?’

‘No, I don’t think I could quite believe that.’ She was teasing him along the road, inviting him into the place where he would feel safe enough to tell her everything. When there was total honesty between them, the way would be clear for whatever lay in the future.

She wanted there to be a future. She could admit that now. She’d hidden her feelings, even from herself, behind a barrier of caution and sensible reasoning. But now Dante himself was demolishing that barrier. If she was only a little patient, there would be happiness soon.

‘It you presented yourself as a stuffed dummy full of virtue I think I’d just laugh,’ she admitted. ‘And then I’d send you on your way, because I’d have no use for you.’

‘For the stuffed-dummy part or the virtue?’ he asked lightly.

‘Guess.’

He smiled, but then his smile faded as emotion swept him.

‘Oh, Ferne, don’t change,’ he said desperately. ‘Promise me you’ll never change, and then maybe I can dig deep in myself and find a little courage. Only it’s going to take more than just a little. It’s going to take a lot to show you myself as I really am, stupid and pig-headed, blind to what matters.’

‘Stop,’ she said, putting her fingers lightly over his mouth. ‘Don’t run yourself down.’

He didn’t argue, just took hold of her fingers and moved his lips against them. His eyes were almost desperate. She stroked his face, willing him to take the last step that would join their hearts in the closeness that only honesty could bring.

‘Dante,’ she whispered. ‘Please-please.’

Suddenly he gripped her tightly, drawing her to him and burying his face against her.

‘Help me,’ he said huskily. ‘Help me.’

She held him eagerly, flooded with emotion that made it impossible to speak. His carefully constructed armour was cracking, revealing the vulnerability he’d striven so hard to hide, and she wanted only to enfold him, to offer him the help he’d finally sought. Now the moment had come, she was almost dizzy with joy and gratitude.

‘What’s this?’ he said, touching her face. ‘You’re crying.’

‘No, I’m not, not really. I’m just-’

‘Don’t cry.’ He was lightly brushing her tears away. ‘I didn’t mean to upset you.’

‘I’m not upset.’

He took her face between his hands, looking down at her tenderly before dropping his mouth to hers. She kissed him back eagerly, trying to tell him silently that she was his in any way he wanted. If only they could take the next step.

‘I’m so lucky to have you,’ he said. ‘If only…’

‘If only…?’ she echoed wistfully.

‘If only I were worth it. There’s so much I want to say to you, but not just now. My head’s in a muddle-as usual,’ he finished, turning it into a joke.

But she wouldn’t let him get away with that.

‘I don’t think this is your usual muddle,’ she persisted.

‘No, I’m getting worse. Be a little patient with me.’

‘All right,’ she said, trying not to sound sad.

‘Let’s go to bed,’ he said. ‘We’ve got a long drive tomorrow.’

She was stunned, hardly able to believe that the emotion of a moment ago had vanished to nothing. They had come so close, and to see the prize snatched away at the last minute was hard. But she let him lead her unprotesting to bed. One incautious word from her, and the chance could be lost for ever.

He pulled the clothes up over her and got in beside her, holding her briefly before kissing her goodnight. Then he turned over and went to sleep.

She lay staring into the darkness, trying to come to terms with what had happened. It was disappointing to sense his withdrawal, yet she felt she understood. He’d meant to tell her-she was convinced-but he’d backed off, perhaps appalled by so nearly abandoning the caution of a lifetime.

Now she must be patient and it would surely happen, for there had been something in his manner that had never been there before, a new trust and tenderness. His eyes had shone with a different light, and somewhere Ferne had sensed a door opening.

How long had she loved him-right from the start? The signs had been there when he’d gone into the burning building and she, who’d coolly photographed Sandor’s betrayal, had forgotten everything but Dante’s danger.

She’d deceived herself, believing she was only doing this for Hope, when the truth was she yearned to be with Dante. How could she ever have imagined that it was possible to be with this man night and day and not love him?

The sadness had been to love him and hide from him, as he was hiding from her. But now that would soon be over, and she was feeling happy again as she fell asleep.

Next day they drove miles to a villa that was going to take all their joint skills to sell. But the challenge was exhilarating, and they returned home in a triumphant mood. On the drive back, Dante was in high spirits.

‘We’ll stop for a meal,’ he said. ‘But only a quick one. Let’s not be late home.’

He said nothing about the day before, but there was something in the happy atmosphere that told her everything was different. He’d come to the edge of saying the words that would bind them closer, that it was almost as though they had already been said. Looking up, she saw him watching her with a contented smile that told her she was right.

When they reached home there was work to do, and they both settled down at computers.

‘It’s coming on really well,’ he said, looking over her shoulder. ‘How did I ever sell houses without you?’

‘You don’t have to butter me up,’ she said sleepily. ‘You’re stuck with me, whether you want me or not.’

‘That’s what I like to hear. Why don’t you go to bed?’

‘I think I will.’ She shut down her computer.

‘Leave it,’ Dante said. ‘I’ll put it away with mine.’

She kissed him and drifted away, yawning.

He watched her go, wondering if she would think it strange that tonight he didn’t come to bed with her. In fact he was hatching a plan-reprehensible, no doubt, but he didn’t think she’d mind too much when she found out.

She had never done as she’d promised and emailed him the pictures he had taken of her. Now he proposed to conduct a raid and claim them. Waiting until he could see that she’d turned the bedroom light off, he switched her computer back on.

He located the folder without difficulty, and within moments was looking at the pictures he’d taken. He’d thought he knew them, but now they struck him with new force. So much had happened since then. He hadn’t meant to grow so close to her, but it had happened despite his resolutions. Perhaps it was fate. He, a man who believed in fate, had to believe in this possibility.

Now he couldn’t understand why he hadn’t seen her clearly before. Entranced by her loveliness, he’d overlooked the strength and honesty in her face. It was this, as much as her passionate body, that had broken down his defences, so that only a day ago he’d been on the verge of telling her things he’d never told another living soul, things he’d sworn never to tell anyone in his life-however long or short that life might be.

He’d come to the very edge, then backed off. But not very far. The thought was still there in his mind that if he plucked up courage he could tell her everything, beg her to risk the future with him. If not her, then nobody, for there was nobody else in the world that he trusted as much.

She was smiling at him from the screen, her eyes wide and clear, offering hope where there had been none before, a future where there had been only blankness.

Quickly he connected the laptop to his portable printer and printed out a copy of the picture.

That was enough for now. Tomorrow he would confess what he’d done and they would laugh together, revelling in their private world where nobody else was allowed, and where they kept each other safe.

He was about to log off when he noticed the file called ‘ZZZ’.

Through her light sleep Ferne was vaguely aware of the sound of the printer coming from the next room, then a long silence, until she heard the printer again. When it ended there was another silence that dragged on and on. Without knowing why, she was suddenly filled with fear.

Moving slowly, she left the bed at the same moment that Dante entered the room. Strangely, he too was moving slowly, as though struggling to recover from some terrible blow. He switched on the light, and she saw he was holding some papers, which he tossed onto the bed. She drew a sharp breath as she recognised some of the files about his condition that she’d stored on her computer.

At the sight of Dante’s face filled with cold rage, her heart nearly failed her. It was the face of a stranger.

‘I printed them off your computer,’ he said. ‘What are they?’

‘Just-something I’ve been reading.’

‘Just something you happened to be reading?’ His voice was calm but as cold as ice. ‘I don’t think so. There are at least a dozen downloads in that folder. You’ve been searching the Internet for anything you could find on this one subject, and you didn’t just chance on it by accident, did you?’ When she hesitated, he added, ‘Don’t lie to me, Ferne.’

If only he would return to being the Dante she knew, and not this frightening stranger. She tried to find some warmth in his eyes, but there was only a cavern of emptiness that filled her with dread.

‘I won’t lie to you, Dante. I knew you had a problem.’

‘Who told you? Hope, I suppose?’

‘Yes, she was worried about you. You had that funny turn on the ladder the day of the fire, and then a bad headache.’

‘And you both put two and two together and came up with five. I was sick with smoke that day, but you had to make a big thing of it.’

‘All right, you think we were fussing about nothing, but people who care about you do fuss. That’s how you know they care. You told me once that Hope has been the nearest thing to a mother that you’ve known since your own mother died. Well, mothers fuss. They may have to hide it, but it’s what happens.’

‘So, she told you-when? How long ago?’

‘I-’

‘How long ago?’ he repeated relentlessly. ‘Before we came away together?’

‘Yes.’

‘You’ve known all this time?’ he said softly. ‘There was I, like a fool, thinking I could guard my privacy, never dreaming you were spying on me.’

‘I wasn’t spying.’

‘This is spying.’ His voice was like the crack of a whip, making her flinch back.

‘Is it wrong to care for you, to want to see you safe?’

‘My safety is my own affair.’

‘Not always,’ she said, beginning to get angry. ‘What you do affects other people. You can’t spend your life cut off from everyone.’ She drew a sharp breath. ‘But that’s what you’ve tried to do, isn’t it?’

‘That’s my business.’ His face was deadly pale, not white but grey. ‘Is that why you came with me? As a kind of guardian, watching over me like a nurse with a child-or worse?’

‘I never thought of you like that.’

‘I think you did-someone so stupid that he has to be kept in the dark while he’s investigated behind his back.’

‘What did you expect me to do when you kept the truth from me?’ she cried.

‘You’ve been hiding secrets from me,’ he shouted.

‘I had to, but I didn’t want to. I always hoped that you’d come to trust me.’

‘But that’s the irony; that’s the ugly joke. I did trust you. I’ve never felt so close to anyone.’

‘Then you were fooling yourself,’ she said hotly. ‘How could we be close when you were concealing something so important? That’s not real closeness. That’s just a pretence of it on your terms.’

‘Exactly: “how could we be close when you were concealing something so important?” That says it all, doesn’t it? When I think of you watching me, judging me, adjusting your actions to keep me fooled…’

He drew a sharp breath, and she saw sudden, bitter understanding overtake him. ‘That’s the real reason you refused to take that job, isn’t it? And there was I thinking that maybe you wanted to be with me as much as I-Well, it just shows you how a man can delude himself if he’s stupid enough. I must remember to pay you back the money you sacrificed for me.’

‘Don’t you dare say that!’ she cried. ‘Don’t you dare offer me money.’

‘Do you feel insulted? Well, now you know how I feel.’ His voice rose on a note of anguished bitterness. ‘But can you also understand that at this moment I can’t bear the sight of you?’