Husband By Necessity

CHAPTER TWELVE

SPRING was turning into summer, and tourists were converging on Montedoro, although few of them found their way into the side street where Angie lived, and at night it was so quiet that every footstep was noticeable.

They were strange days when she seemed to be living in limbo and several times she looked out onto the valley to see the golden eagle wheeling and swooping eerily close to her. And then one memorable day the bird turned his head, seeming to look straight into her eyes, and gave a wild scream that echoed through the mountains. Then it was gone.

To others it might have been just a scream, but to Angie, in her state of heightened sensitivity, it sounded like a shout of greeting. She had made it. She had proved herself an eagle.

And there was nobody to know or care.

She couldn’t have said what awoke her in the early hours one morning, and made her go to her front door. There was nobody there, but a few lights were still on in the houses opposite. For a moment she saw a head in silhouette, turned in her direction, but it vanished at once. Then the light went off. The silence was total. It was just like any other night. Except that it wasn’t. Something was very different. She stood there for a moment, listening, wondering what was happening. At last she closed the door.

The feeling of strangeness continued next day. She awoke early, feeling queasy, as she often did now, and when that passed she had a quick breakfast alone, then opened her morning surgery. But nobody came. She checked the waiting room, but it was empty. Angie was used to having fewer patients these days, but there was still a fair number who valued her skills more than her reputation, and total silence was rare. After a while she checked the waiting room again, but still there was nobody there.

Of course the weather was fine now, she told herself. Nobody was feeling poorly. But the brave words couldn’t still the unease within her heart. Or the ache. She had stuck her neck out for these people, and they were abandoning her.

She looked out, but there wasn’t a soul to be seen in the sunlit street. Somewhere overhead, she heard a window open, a voice went, ‘Pssst!’ And the window closed again.

A rumbling sound made her glance quickly to the far end of the street, just in time to see Benito and his son, both driving their painted carts across the road, before vanishing between two buildings. Which was strange, because this wasn’t part of their route.

She began to wonder if she were hallucinating. At any moment she half expected someone to jump out of a trap-door.

Giving herself a little shake Angie retreated back into her house, trying not to feel isolated. There was a pile of things to do, she told herself firmly. And she would be strong-minded, and get on with them.

But she did none of them. She stood in the middle of the floor, wondering what was happening to her.

She must be going dotty. That was it. Because otherwise, why would she imagine that she could hear a trumpet?

Back to the front door. Look out again. And this time there was no mistake. She could hear the trumpet loud and clear, and the sound of a drum, accompanying a procession that was making its way up from the bottom of the street.

She was definitely hallucinating because no way was that Baptista riding on Benito’s cart at the head of the procession. But when she had closed her eyes, shaken her head and opened her eyes again the cart was still there, rumbling towards her. So was Baptista. And now Heather was sitting beside her.

Nearer they came, and now she could discern individuals walking beside the colourful cart. There was Father Marco, and beside him the mayor. On the other side of the cart walked Sister Ignatia and the Mother Superior. As everyone realised that she had seen them they all waved and smiled. They were carrying garlands and flowers, as if for a festive day, and behind them came the town band playing with huge enthusiasm and small accuracy.

As last they stopped before her house, and now she could see that the procession stretched far back down the street, encompassing so many people that she wondered if there was anyone left to run the shops.

‘What-what’s going on?’ she asked helplessly.

Nobody spoke, but Father Marco, grinning broadly, stepped aside and revealed someone Angie hadn’t noticed before.

‘Dad!’ she exclaimed. ‘What are you doing here?’

‘I’ve come to your wedding, my dear,’ he said, embracing her. ‘Your brothers send their love. Unfortunately they couldn’t get the time off at such short notice-’

‘Short notice?’ she squealed. ‘You announced that I’m getting married-which nobody’s told me-and you talk about short notice? Well, I’m not getting married.’

‘Signorina, you must,’ the mayor said earnestly. ‘Every one of us is here today to tell you that you must.’

‘Must?’ she echoed. ‘What do you mean-“must”?’

There was a small commotion from the top of the street. Three men were striding towards them, Bernardo in the centre, flanked by his brothers, each dressed in their best clothes. Angie strained her eyes trying to read Bernardo’s expression, but all she could see was how calm he looked, not at all like a man who’d been kidnapped.

Angie’s father was helping Baptista down from the cart, then Heather, who was carrying a parcel.

‘All present and correct,’ Lorenzo called out merrily as the brothers came to a halt.

Angie moved closer, meeting Bernardo’s eyes, her own full of suspicion. ‘Did you know about this?’ she demanded.

Instead of answering he threw an anguished look at Baptista. ‘You promised to do the talking for me,’ he growled.

‘And I will,’ she assured him. ‘Some of the talking. But there are also things a man must say for himself.’

‘It’s a set-up, isn’t it?’ Angie asked her.

‘Yes, my dear, it’s a set-up. And since a lot of people have gone to a lot of trouble to set you up, the least you can do is listen to us.’

She nudged the mayor, bringing him out of the trance in which he’d been rehearsing his words. He cleared his throat and faced Angie with the air of a man determined to get it right.

‘Since the day you came here you’ve worked hard to become one of the community,’ he proclaimed, ‘something which we all appreciate.’

‘And I hope to continue as one of the community but-’

He mopped his brow. ‘Please, signorina, let me get to the end.’

‘Very well,’ she said with an ominous calm that made him gulp.

‘Er-where was I? Since the day you-oh, no-worked hard-er-’

Angie’s lips twitched. ‘You’ve done that bit.’

‘Yes, yes I have, haven’t I?’

‘Would you like me to carry on?’ Father Marco muttered.

‘Certainly not,’ Olivero said, stung. ‘I am the mayor. This is my job.’

‘That was never decided.’

‘Pardon me, but it was decided.’

‘It is I who will be conducting this marriage-’

‘Except that you have no bride,’ the little mayor pointed out with spirit. ‘And if you keep interrupting you will never have a bride. And I must insist-’

Through the ensuing fracas Angie met Bernardo’s eyes and saw that they were full of amusement. She pressed her lips together, trying not to laugh out loud at the antics of the two men, but mostly from sheer joy at the miracle that was happening. What you couldn’t achieve for yourself, your family and friends got together to make happen for you. That was how it should be.

‘Signorina,’ the mayor said, ‘I am here to tell you that if you do not settle this situation, you will be failing in your duty to Montedoro.’

‘What do you mean, “settle the situation”? I’m a good doctor, aren’t I?’

‘The best we’ve ever had, but-there are things-’ He looked as if he wished the earth could swallow him up.

‘You mean because I’m pregnant and unmarried?’

He swallowed. ‘If you insist on being specific about it.’

‘What about his duty?’ she asked, indicating Bernardo.

‘He’s willing to do his duty,’ the priest said. ‘It’s you that’s making difficulties.’

‘Shut up!’ Olivero told him, incensed. ‘Shut up, shut up, shut up!’ Having found his voice, he pulled himself together and said to Angie, ‘We are your friends. We love you and we want you to stay with us. But you do not yet understand this place. You don’t know-as we do-that if you do not marry, sooner or later you will have to leave us, and we will do anything to prevent this catastrophe.’

‘But it’s not that simple,’ Angie said, half laughing, ‘There’s paperwork, bureaucracy-a civil ceremony-’

‘That’s all been taken care of,’ Baptista said with an air of triumph. ‘The civil ceremony was arranged as soon as I received your birth certificate.’

‘Received my birth certificate-from-?’

‘Don’t ask silly questions, darling,’ her father said, giving her cheek a peck. ‘I’ve been working very hard over this, and I want my full share of credit.’

Before everyone’s delighted eyes he and Baptista shook hands.

‘I hate to break up the love-in,’ Angie said, exasperated, ‘but I haven’t said yes.’

‘Then say it,’ Lorenzo urged her, ‘then we can all get on with the party.’

Bernardo came to stand before her. ‘Say yes,’ he begged. ‘Forget my foolishness. Forget that I wasn’t brave or wise enough to trust our love, until you showed me better. I didn’t understand that love must be fought and struggled for, and there is nothing in the world more worth the fight. I know now and I beg you to be my wife.’

How bright the sun was, she thought, when only a moment before it had been dark. In the silence it was as though the whole world was waiting for her answer, but suddenly she couldn’t speak. She could only touch his face very softly, smiling through her tears. He didn’t wait for any more, but swept her into his arms. It went against the grain with this deeply private man to show his feelings in public, but he kissed her again and again in the middle of the street, while the crowd cheered and threw hats and flowers in the air.

‘Hurry up,’ Heather said practically. ‘We’ve got to get you properly dressed.’

‘I haven’t anything suitable,’ Angie protested.

‘Of course not. That’s why I brought you something.’ Heather took one of Angie’s arms, Baptista the other, and together they steered her back into the house, followed, it seemed by every woman in the village. Stella appeared, bringing Ginetta, and behind them Mother Francesca and Sister Ignatia, all beaming and full of delight at the result of their benign conspiracy.

Heather had visited a bridal hire shop in Palermo, giving them her friend’s measurements, and bringing away three bridal gowns for Angie to chose from. Everyone had a say, but it was Mother Francesca, whose eye for clothes was unrivalled, who chose the soft cream silk with the tiny veil adorned with yellow roses.

As soon as this choice was made a whisper went around the women and out into the street, and a waiting child was despatched to the florist, returning a few minutes later with a bouquet of yellow roses for the bride, and ten tiny matching bouquets for the bridesmaids.

‘Ten bridesmaids?’ Angie echoed.

‘Nobody wanted to be left out,’ Sister Ignatia confided, ‘but we got the number down to ten at last.’

And there were ten little girls in their Sunday best, eagerly receiving their bouquets.

‘I think we have another one,’ Angie said, indicating a child standing apart from the others.

It was Ella, the little girl with the deformity that she’d visited on the day Bernardo returned. Her mother moved swiftly to shield her but for once Ella struggled free of the protective arm and came to stand before Angie, touching the beautiful dress with a yearning look.

‘It seems we have eleven bridesmaids,’ Angie said, breaking off one of her roses and holding it out to the child. Her father, who had slipped in at that moment, stood watching the little girl.

‘Are we ready to leave?’ he asked, and she took his arm.

Outside the painted cart was waiting for her. When Angie and her father were aboard, with Ella wedged between them, Benito took up the reins and they began to rumble slowly over the cobbles, followed by the second cart with Baptista and Heather, and the procession falling in behind.

The first stop was the Town Hall, where it seemed they were expected. Angie was realising that the whole town was in on the plan, and her heart swelled that her friends wanted her as well as the man she loved.

She recognised people who must have come in from a distance. There was Antonio Servante, and his mother Cecilia, back on her feet now thanks to a hefty course of vitamin injections. There too was Salvatore Vitello, the one-time drunk, now a reformed character, looking sheepish and evidently having ‘forgiven’ her for destroying his sole claim to fame. Even Nico Sartone was present, putting a good face on it.

In the civil ceremony Mayor Donati was in his element. While the formalities were gone through he stood stiffly to attention, glaring out of the corner of his eye in case Father Marco should put himself forward. But the priest was too wise to do what would undoubtedly have caused a riot.

Then it was over. Legally they were husband and wife, but the church service was still to come. Now Father Marco came into his own, watching the bride and groom with eagle eyes as Bernardo drew her close for a kiss.

‘No hanky panky,’ he cried. ‘Not until you’ve been to church!’

‘But she’s already-’ someone started to say without thinking, and a roar of kindly laughter went up as the anonymous caller stopped in confusion.

Angie felt Bernardo tense beside her and immediately joined in the laughter. ‘Well, it’s got its funny side,’ she told him. ‘And it’s nice that our friends can share the joke.’

And she had the satisfaction of seeing him relax, then smile.

At the church Dr Wendham offered his daughter his arm for the journey down the aisle, followed by ten little bridesmaids and Ella, who insisted on walking with the bride, clutching her skirt, and resisting all attempts to remove her, until Angie said, ‘She’s fine as she is.’

At the altar she forgot everyone else except Bernardo, who was pale and nervous, and held onto her hand tightly as though she was all he could be sure of in a shifting world. She was in a daze. They had travelled such a rocky road and so nearly missed their destination, but here they were, each other’s forever, as they were always meant to be.

The reception was held in the central piazza of Montedoro. A dozen long tables had been set up, covered with snowy white cloths that dazzled in the bright sun. Everywhere Angie looked there were flowers, some natural, some plucked from the hothouses of Federico Marcello, who sat beside Baptista, holding her hand under the table.

The speeches took a long time because everyone wanted a say, but at last it was time to cut the cake. Then the band struck up for dancing, and the bride and groom took the floor, to loud applause.

‘I thought you wouldn’t fit in here,’ Bernardo murmured to his new wife. ‘But I was so wrong. They did all this for you, to make certain that they didn’t lose you.’

‘Not just for me,’ Angie said. ‘These are your friends, your family. They did it for you. Oh, darling, don’t you see? They’ve reached out to you. Hasn’t the time come for you to reach out to them?’

He didn’t answer, and she didn’t press the point. It was enough that he was thinking about it.

‘Did I do the right thing today?’ Bernardo asked her anxiously.

She laughed and touched his face. ‘Isn’t it a little late to be asking me that?’

‘I was desperate. No matter how I asked, you said no, but I couldn’t bear to be without you. So I-forced you, I suppose.’

‘I could have refused.’

‘Not with the town’s population standing there determined to make us tie the knot. I used to think I was a brave man, until I had to get the whole of Montedoro to do my courting for me.’

‘And us,’ Lorenzo put in behind him, from where he’d been shamelessly eavesdropping.

‘Where would you be without your brothers?’ Renato demanded as he glided by with his wife in his arms.

‘And not just your brothers,’ Angie said. ‘I’m only guessing, but-’

‘Yes, I asked Baptista’s help and she gave it as freely as if I were one of her own sons.’

‘Doesn’t that tell you something?’ she asked as they returned to their table.

‘I suppose it does,’ he said thoughtfully. Sitting down, he noticed her father talking to Ella with great attention, his eyes fixed on her damaged face, until her mother gave him a shy smile and took the little girl away.

Dr Wendham leaned over towards his daughter. ‘I think I can do something for that child,’ he said quietly.

‘Yes, Dad-I’d hoped you’d be able to. I was going to ask you in my next letter,’ Angie replied in a low voice.

‘I’ll rely on you to set it up, then. Get the X-rays done in Palermo and send them to me. It’s probably best if I come over here to operate. Then I can visit you as well.’

‘And you send the bill to me,’ Bernardo said quickly.

Dr Wendham regarded him kindly. ‘My dear boy, one of the advantages of being a rich man is that you don’t have to charge people when you don’t want to. Now, who shall I dance with now?’

He was gone, and a moment later they saw him leaping about on the dance floor with the mayor’s wife.

Bernardo turned to Angie. ‘He will really do it for nothing?’

‘He does it all the time.’

His heart was in his eyes. ‘I was wrong about so many things.’

‘It doesn’t matter, amor mio. We have time to put everything right. Time, and friends, and family who love us, and that’s the best thing of all.’

‘Yes,’ he said awkwardly.

‘It’s your decision, but I think you should tell Baptista everything.’

‘Is this the moment to take such a risk-?’

‘I don’t think you’ll find it a risk.’

‘Come with me. I can’t do it without you.’

Baptista was watching them as the new husband and wife rose together, and came over to her. His body stiff with tension, Bernardo sat beside her and took Baptista’s hand in his.

‘How can I thank you for what you have done for me, today?’ he asked gravely. ‘There are no words-’

‘But there is one word,’ she said. ‘All these years I have longed for you to accept a mother’s love from me-not forgetting your true mother, but loving me also. It was a happy day when you turned to me for help. I have always loved you as my son. If only you could simply believe that.’

Bernardo’s face was tortured. ‘But how could I accept your love, knowing that I had no right to it? There is something-if you had known the truth all these years-’

She regarded him tenderly. ‘What truth is that, my son?’

Bernardo gritted his teeth. ‘That I was responsible for your husband’s death. I ran away that day. I meant to come down here. I wanted to see where he lived, see his wife and his other family. I was jealous because my mother and I had to hide away. I never got here. I turned back. But in the meantime they went out to look for me in the car, and the car crashed, and they died.’

As he spoke he was forcing himself to look at Baptista’s face, waiting for the revulsion to appear in it. Instead, she only gave a little smile and said, ‘So that was it. Vincente couldn’t imagine why you’d vanished suddenly.’

‘You mean he spoke to you about it?’ Bernardo asked, thunderstruck. ‘But how could he? He was killed outright.’

‘Yes, but before he went out searching he called me to say that he would be late home because he and your mother had to find you,’ Baptista said.

‘You two spoke about me?’ he asked, astounded. ‘You knew?’

‘I knew about Vincente’s second family almost from the start. I asked him about it, not blaming him, but letting him know there was no need for lies. We talked frankly, like the friends we were, and after that he was always open with me. I knew when he visited you. Oh, my dear boy, does that shock you? Did you think I had learned only after his death? Vincente and I had no secrets.’

‘But you were his wife-’

‘The heart has room for many kinds of love. Your mother made him so happy. It was a kind of happiness I couldn’t give him, for he wasn’t in love with me, any more than I was with him.’ She turned fond eyes on Fede, sitting beside her. ‘Another man had been my great love. Vincente knew that.

‘My husband was my dearest friend, and as friends we loved each other. Once he made me promise that if anything happened to him, I would care for his other family. I gave him that promise gladly, and was proud to keep it-as far as you would let me keep it.’

Bernardo was very pale. ‘When you came for me that day-I thought you hated me.’

‘My dear, if you could have seen yourself-twelve years old, so certain that you were a man, determined not to cry. When I tried to take you in my arms you held yourself as stiff as a ramrod. I knew then that it was going to be hard, but I never dreamed that you would stay aloof from me all these years, refusing your father’s name, and your rightful portion of your inheritance.

‘I thought the time would come when we could talk. Sadly, it never did, but in my heart I have always loved you as a mother.’

‘But-I killed him,’ Bernardo persisted, as though unable to believe that any good could be his.

‘You were a child. Soon you will be a father. Will you blame your children all their lives for the accidents of childhood?’

Slowly Bernardo shook his head. ‘No-Mamma.’

At the longed-for word, Baptista’s smile was beautiful.

‘If-you can forgive-’ Bernardo said slowly.

‘It is you who must forgive-yourself. When you’ve done that, you’ll be ready to be a full member of this family-both you and your mother.’

‘I don’t understand. How can she-?’

‘As you know, the Martellis have a little private chapel in the cathedral. I plan to put a plaque up to the memory of Marta Tornese. Then she too will be one of us.’

Suddenly Bernardo found that he couldn’t speak. Baptista understood. Enfolding him in her arms, she met Angie’s eyes and a silent message passed between them. There were still rocks ahead on his road. Probably there would always be rocks. But he had the protection of two women who loved him, and he would make it.

‘Well,’ Baptista said, when she had released him and wiped her eyes, while he did the same, ‘it seems our family is growing bigger all the time. One wedding last year, one today, two children on the way, and-’ she paused dramatically and took Fede’s hand ‘-another wedding.’

A cheer went up. Baptista was looking at Bernardo for his reaction. She already knew that Renato and Lorenzo were glad for her, but Bernardo was the most puritanical of the three.

‘Do you mean,’ he asked her, ‘that this is-?’

‘My great love, the man I told you of. We are to be married at last.’

‘As you should always have been,’ Bernardo said.

‘Yes,’ Fede said, making one of his rare interjections, ‘as we should always have been.’

‘I am glad for you,’ Bernardo said, shaking his hand. ‘And for you, Mamma.’ He kissed her. ‘Recently, you’ve planned so many weddings for your children, it’s right that you should also plan one for yourself.’

‘I enjoy planning weddings,’ Baptista said irrepressibly. ‘And I’m certainly not finished yet.’

A silence fell. Suddenly Lorenzo became uncomfortably aware that all eyes were on him. He looked around in mounting alarm.

‘Who, me?’ he exclaimed. ‘No way!’

‘Be brave, brother,’ Renato told him, his arm about Heather. ‘It’s not so bad when you get used to it. Ouch!’ His wife had dug him in the ribs.

‘Forget it,’ Lorenzo said firmly. ‘I’ll think about it in ten years. In the meantime, no way! Do you hear me?’ Alarmed, he looked at the sea of smiling faces. ‘Do you hear me?’

Baptista smiled. ‘Let’s wait and see.’

Midnight. The guests had gone, the streets were almost empty. In the full moon a couple strolled hand in hand. They said little. They no longer needed words.

‘I know nothing about people,’ he said at last. ‘And nothing about love, except that I feel it-for you, and for our child. I get everything wrong. You’ll have to show me what to do-’

‘I’m not sure that I can,’ she said thoughtfully. ‘I know nothing about love either. I thought I did, but that was just romance. When love came it was completely different. I found that it could be hard and cruel and made me cry with the pain of it.’

‘Do you have any regrets?’

‘No. It’s just that I got a lot wrong, too.’

Then one of them-later, they could never remember which-said, ‘We’ll have to find the way together.’