The Italian’s Miracle Family

CHAPTER FIVE

OUTSIDE he showed her to his car-not the one he’d driven before, but far larger and more powerful. He swung confidently out of the airport onto the main road and drove fast for a few miles before swinging off.

‘Where are you going?’ she asked. ‘This isn’t the way to Florence.’

‘We’re not going to Florence, we’re going to another little place I own, in the mountains. We need privacy.’

‘What about Tina?’

‘She and Elena are spending a few days with her aunt and uncle. You saw them at the cemetery.’

‘So if they’re gone why can’t we have privacy in your house in Florence?’

‘Because I have curious employees. I want total isolation, and we’ll only get that in the mountains.’

Total isolation with this man, cut off from help if things went wrong. The thought should have made her nervous, but it didn’t. She’d already been through the worst. Now they were like two comrades facing enemy fire together. To be comrades you only needed trust. And, despite his outrageous behaviour, she did trust him.

The land began to slope gently upwards; the buildings became further apart. Sometimes the road wound its way among tall trees for miles, so that it felt as though they were the only two people in the world. Despite the time of year the weather was bright, and the sun glittered through the branches, dappling the way ahead.

Suddenly there was a gap in the trees, revealing the land sloping away. Alysa watched, fascinated, as they climbed higher and higher, seeming to leave the ground behind, soaring into a different world.

At last the road levelled out and they were driving through a small village. Drago stopped the car.

‘I’m just going to buy a few things,’ he said. ‘Will you come with me, or wait here?’

‘I’ll come with you.’

At any other time she would have found the village fascinating, coming, as it seemed to, from another age. Some streets were cobbled; the buildings were large and decorative, with archways extending out over the pavement. Impossible to imagine a supermarket here. Drago went from shop to shop, buying fresh meat and vegetables with the confidence of an expert. Every shopkeeper knew him.

‘Haven’t seen you here for a while, signore,’ one observed. ‘Nice to have you back. I’ve got something in stock that I think you’ll like.’

Then there was bread, cheese, milk and oil to be bought. Again the counter assistants greeted him as an old friend and produced his favourite items at once.

‘Don’t worry, I’m a good cook,’ he told Alysa.

‘Yes, I was really worried about that,’ she said dryly.

He gave her a look of appreciation for this sally, and handed her a couple of bags to carry. Since he was weighed down by even more bags himself, she couldn’t even protest.

She told herself that she’d been kidnapped, and it was an outrage, but it felt more like going on a picnic. There was only one thing to do, and that was to stop fighting it and go with the flow.

‘What’s the matter?’ Drago asked her.

‘Matter?’

‘You were staring into the distance.’

‘Nothing’s the matter,’ she said robustly. ‘Come on. Let’s get going.’

Then they were on the road again, climbing among the trees, until he turned suddenly, and in a few moments they were drawing up before a small villa. There were no lights on and the place looked glum and chilly. She shivered as he unlocked the door.

‘It’ll be better when I’ve lit the range,’ he said. ‘It starts the central heating.’

‘You have to do that by hand?’

‘This is the mountains,’ he said by way of explanation. ‘It’s different up here. Why don’t you unpack the food in the kitchen-but don’t touch anything apart from that.’

‘I should be used to you ordering me about by now,’ she observed.

‘Yes, you should.’

He got to work on the range in the kitchen, piling logs in until the flames flickered up between them, then tossing charcoal on top. When two dials on the pipes showed the same high temperature, he switched on the central heating, and the place began to warm up quickly.

She began to wander around, somewhat surprised by the cosy informality of the place, which had none of the studied luxury to be found in the Florence villa. Here there were wooden floors with rugs tossed about, apparently casually. The furniture was old, even slightly shabby, and the place had a friendly atmosphere that appealed to her.

The villa was built on a steep slope, with the garage at the bottom. Next to it was a woodshed, and the rest of the place was built on top, so that, looking out of the window, she found she was on a level with the branches of the trees. The light was beginning to fade, so that she could see only shadows below, and the effect was like floating away from the earth.

‘This is yours,’ Drago said, opening a door and showing her into a room dominated by a large bed.

‘How long are you planning for me to stay?’ she asked.

‘I think we’ll be here tomorrow, and perhaps leave the day after. It depends on a lot of things.’

‘Why don’t you tell me why I’m here?’

‘Let’s eat first. Your bags should arrive soon.’

When he’d gone she took out her mobile phone and called her office. She’d booked herself a week off, but had hinted that she would return earlier-which had won the approval of her boss, Brian Hawk, who had always helped and encouraged her. Now she told him that she would take the full week.

‘I wish you’d given me a bit more warning,’ he grumbled. ‘There’s a lot happening at the moment.’

‘I’ve been detained by something unexpected,’ she said truthfully.

‘Well, I hope you sort it out soon. Your prospects are bright, Alysa. Don’t spoil them by being unreliable.’

When she’d hung up she sat considering these last words, wondering why she wasn’t filled with alarm. Her dream was to be offered a partnership, and for this she’d worked hard and sometimes brilliantly, earning Brian’s praise. In the last year she’d redoubled her efforts, staying in the office late to avoid returning to her empty apartment, and then taking work home with her.

Once Brian’s warning would have alerted her to danger, but now the words seemed to come from a distance. It was true, of course. She would have to be careful. But she could think about it later.

Looking at the double bed, she wondered if this was the room where Drago and Carlotta had slept together. A glance into the wardrobe confirmed it. Some of Carlotta’s clothes were still here, suggesting that she’d abandoned them when she’d begun her new life, and Drago couldn’t bring himself to dispose of them.

When she emerged a few minutes later he was already at work in the kitchen, doing something mysterious with oil and vegetables.

‘The one thing I never thought of you doing was cooking,’ she mused, studying him.

‘We’re not like the English, who think cooking’s sissy unless you’re a celebrity chef earning a fortune. My mother thought a man wasn’t a real man unless he could cook.’

‘What are you making?’

‘Pappa al pomadoro-bread cooked with garlic, parsley, basil, salt, oil and tomatoes.’

‘I’m impressed. And afterwards?’

‘Just be patient.’

He was immersed in what he was doing, and seemed to have forgotten the reason he’d brought her here, although he’d claimed it was important. With another man she might have suspected a trick to lure her into a seduction, but not with Drago. He was in the grip of a purpose so inflexible that he could afford to set it aside until the right moment.

‘Can I do anything to help?’ she asked.

‘Yes, you could watch this saucepan while I light the fire in the other room.’

‘A fire as well as central heating?’

‘Wait till you see it.’

A few minutes later she understood. The fire, nestled in a neat grate, was small but delightful, throwing darting lights over the room. While it offered little heat, it created an atmosphere of warmth and comfort that no central heating could match.

‘My mother always lit a fire in the evenings,’ Drago said. ‘When I looked this place over the agent said it could all be renovated and the fireplace taken out. I told him to forget it. I wanted everything left just as it was.’

‘Is this the place you told me about, where you and Carlotta came when you married?’

‘Yes, it is. After she died I wanted to sell it, but Tina loves it, so I couldn’t. Perhaps I shouldn’t have brought you up here, but I couldn’t think of anywhere else where we’d have some privacy.’

‘It’s all right. Is there anything more I can do?’

‘You could lay the table. You’ll find everything over there, including wine glasses.’

He indicated an old-fashioned dresser and she got to work, finding a table cloth and cutlery. In a few minutes Drago emerged from the kitchen to serve the first course and open a bottle of white wine.

She suddenly realised that she was ravenous. She’d left the hotel too quickly to eat very much, and had managed only a sandwich at the airport. The pappa al pomadoro had a delicious smell that drove everything else out of her head, and the taste was every bit as good.

‘I needed this,’ she said with a sigh.

‘After the day I’ve given you, you mean?’

‘Well, I admit you’re making up for it.’

‘One thing I’ve been wanting to ask you-when you agreed to come with me, you said, “the new tactic worked”. What did you mean by that?’

‘You know very well what I meant by that,’ she said indignantly. ‘When giving me orders didn’t work, you backed off and played the reasonable card.’

‘Is that what I did?’

‘Didn’t you?’

He hesitated. ‘It wasn’t all calculated. I could see I was doing everything wrong, driving you away. I tend to approach things with hobnailed boots, I know that. And when it doesn’t work…’He made a helpless gesture. ‘I sometimes don’t know what to do next. And just then-I felt like such a loser. I didn’t have the heart to fight any more.’

‘You?’ she asked with a hint of teasing. ‘Stop fighting?’

He gave her a wry look. ‘I guess I deserved that. It’s almost funny that you accused me of playing the “reasonable card”. I’m not good at being reasonable. Ask anyone who knows me.’

‘I don’t need to. I’m beginning to know you myself.’

‘That’s an unnerving thought.’

‘Why? You don’t try to hide it. Everything’s upfront. Can I have some more of this?’

‘Just a little. You’ve got to leave room for the steak.’

The steak was delicious, followed by a loaf made of flour, sugar, eggs and butter. With each course he changed the wine.

‘I won’t ask why you vanished so suddenly yesterday,’ Drago said. ‘I guess I asked for it. But I tried to call you for the rest of the day, and you’d switched your phone off. I wondered if you’d gone back to the waterfall so that you could see it without a crowd.’

‘No, I just went walking around Florence.’

The constraint in her voice made him look at her quickly and ask, ‘Did you go back to their apartment?’

‘No, why should you think that?’

‘Because something happened yesterday that hurt you more than you have been already.’

‘Well, yes.’

‘Can’t you tell me?’ he asked when she fell silent.

‘You remember I said that when James came back from Florence in September he was a bit strange?’ Drago nodded. ‘But I didn’t mention the padlock I found in his things. Yesterday I found out about Benvenuto Cellini.’

‘You mean the statue at the end of the Ponte Vecchio?’

‘And the padlocks.’

‘Did he and Carlotta exchange them?’

‘They must have done. He said the one I found was for me. But after we broke up I came home one day and he’d been there while I was out, fetching some personal stuff he’d left behind. The padlock was missing too. He must have gone through my things. He didn’t leave a note or anything, just his key on the table.’

‘I’m beginning to get a picture of this man,’ Drago said slowly. ‘He liked to do things in a way that was easiest on himself-going to your home when you weren’t there.’ His mouth twisted in contempt. ‘And this is the man my Carlotta preferred.’

‘I guess she hadn’t discovered that side of him yet,’ Alysa reflected. ‘He just didn’t like confrontation.’

‘I wonder how he and Carlotta would have managed after a while,’ Drago mused, looking into his wine glass.

‘Did she like confrontation?’

‘She was never backward about telling people what she thought.’

‘Just like you. The two of you must have had some terrific fights.’

‘Spectacular,’ he confirmed. ‘She once said-she once said she loved me because I was the only man she knew who could stand up to her. She’d have got bored with James in time.’

‘And you’d have taken her back for Tina’s sake?’

‘Yes. What about you?’

‘No,’ she said slowly. ‘I didn’t know before, but I know now. I would never have taken James back in a million years.’

‘Let’s drink our coffee and brandy by the fire,’ Drago said.

They cleared the plates into the kitchen, but he rejected her offer to wash up, steering her firmly back into the living room and towards an armchair close to the fire on one side. Another one stood on the other side, and he threw himself into this.

‘That was the best meal I’ve ever tasted,’ Alysa said sincerely.

‘Thank you. I guess I owed you a decent meal.’

‘I think you needed it too. You look more relaxed.’

‘Cooking does that for me,’ he admitted. ‘Going to the cemetery with the whole family was very tough, having to watch every word in case they guessed. You can’t imagine how I longed for the one person I can be honest with.’ He raised his brandy glass to her.

‘Yes, I can,’ she murmured. ‘Me too.’

He was about to answer when his mobile phone sounded. He answered and immediately his face became exasperated and horrified.

‘I told Pietro to send them up here,’ he barked. ‘What does he think he-? How soon can you get them here? Why not tonight? All right, but first thing tomorrow.’

‘Shall I guess?’ Alysa asked as he hung up. ‘My bags?’

‘Pietro took them to the villa. I thought I made myself plain, but evidently I didn’t. I’m sorry. That was my steward wanting to know what he should do. You find it funny?’

Alysa had given a little laugh. Now she said lightly, ‘It does have its funny side. You were so determined to avoid the curious eyes of your employees.’

‘I apologise for all this,’ he growled. ‘They can’t get out here tonight, not in the dark on that mountain road. Your things will be here tomorrow, but until then-’

‘I’ll cope.’

‘Alysa, I swear I didn’t plan this.’

‘It’s all right, I believe you,’ she said through laughter. ‘With another man I’d be suspicious, but you and I aren’t about that.’

‘Thank you.’

She had set her brandy glass down on a small fender before the fire. Now she reached forward to get it, and kept on sliding down until she was sitting on the floor, finding it surprisingly comfortable because of the thick rug that seemed to be made of fake fur. She leaned back against the chair, sipping contentedly.

She was enveloped by a sense of well-being. It had something to do with the fire and the fine brandy, but more to do with Drago. He’d said, ‘the one person I can be honest with’, and it was true for her too.

She thought of the journey home that she’d nearly taken: landing at the airport with nobody to meet her, queuing for a taxi, reaching her home to find it cold, dark and empty, as it had been for the past endless year. The lonely evening with only her bleak thoughts for company.

Here she was effectively a prisoner, but a well-fed prisoner, basking in the glow of a friendly fire, relaxed and almost happy. If she could have escaped she would not have done so. She sighed pleasurably, feeling her cares fade away.

Drago, happening to glance across at her, saw the brandy glass about to slip out of her hand and hastened to remove it. Her eyes were closed, and her breathing coming steadily.

He studied her, feeling guilty but unable to stop. It was unforgivable to watch her while she was unaware, but something about her face held him against his will. Now that her defences were abandoned, she’d changed in a way that made him grow still.

If asked to describe her mouth he would have said that it was too firm and precise to be attractive, but exactly right for the slightly grim female she’d been at their first meeting. No man, he thought, considering the matter impartially, would ever be tempted to kiss that mouth.

But now it was softened, her lips slightly apart, the breath whispering through them. Nature had shaped her more generously than she wanted the world to know, and sleep had revealed what she had tried to hide.

Her whole face was one that a man might contemplate with curiosity, even while he blamed himself for his impertinence.

She stirred and he backed off, rising to his feet and going to a chest of drawers where he’d deposited a canvas bag when he’d first come in. Having retrieved it he returned to his seat. For a while he remained still, until at last, with evident reluctance, he reached inside, drew out an envelope and sat turning it over between his fingers. He did this for some time, making no attempt to open it, and putting it aside quickly when Alysa stirred and yawned.

‘Have I been asleep?’ she demanded.

‘Just dozing for a minute.’

‘How rude of me. I’m sorry.’ She pulled herself up and rubbed her eyes, gazing into the fire which cast a glow over her face.

‘Well?’ she said at last, turning to look at him.

‘Well?’

‘Well, why are we here? Drago, when are you going to stop putting things off? You wanted to show me something so important that you dragooned me into coming here, but then you seemed to forget all about it.’

‘I’ve been trying not to think of it,’ he admitted. ‘It’s something that was found in their apartment and only delivered to my house yesterday.’

‘But didn’t you go through the place?’

‘Yes, and I thought I’d been pretty thorough, but it seems there was a secret place-a small cupboard in the wall that you’d never find unless you knew it was there. The people who rent the place now discovered it by accident and found a box inside, containing a cache of letters. From them they learned enough to get in touch with me.’

‘You mean…?’

‘Letters between James and Carlotta, dating from September, as soon as he went back to England after their first meeting. When he came to live here he brought her letters with him. His were sent to her work, and I suppose that’s where she kept them, because I had no idea.’

She had to force herself to ask, ‘What do they say?’

‘I haven’t read them.’

‘How could you bear not to?’

He smiled faintly. ‘Because you weren’t there. I’ve always thought of myself as a brave man, but I found I can’t do this alone.’ His smile became self-mocking. ‘I need you to hold my hand.’

‘If you haven’t read them, how can you be sure they’re real? James wasn’t a man for writing letters. He did it all by phone and email, like most people these days.’

He showed her the envelope. ‘There are some things that you can’t trust to email. Is this his handwriting?’

‘Yes,’ she said slowly, taking it from him. ‘That’s James.’

She pulled out the letter and looked at the date.

‘September,’ she murmured. ‘He must have written this as soon as he came back.’

The words seemed to leap off the page.

I’m sitting here at midnight, trying to imagine that I’m still there with you. It’s only a few hours since you kissed me goodbye at the airport, yet already it seems like a lifetime. All I can do is try to tell you what our meeting has meant to me, how you’ve transformed my life in only a few days.

She laid down the letter. ‘I can’t read any more.’

But even as she said it she began reading again. James had written these words on the night he’d returned from Florence in September. She’d met him at the airport, gone home with him, tried to make love to him and been rejected.

‘Because he’d come from her bed only a few hours before,’ she whispered. ‘He sent me away, then sat down to write to her.’

Drago was reaching into the bag, pulling out more letters, searching through them feverishly.

‘What does she say to him?’ Alysa asked.

‘She says here that her marriage is a sham,’ Drago replied in a dazed voice. ‘And she can endure it no longer. Mio dio!’

Alysa barely heard. She too was pulling out letters, seeking the ones from James. They were revealing. He wrote:

My darling, please don’t be jealous of Alysa. She means nothing to me any more. Even at its best it was only an insipid love, nothing compared to what I feel for you.

And in another letter:

I’ve promised to be with you next week, and I will. Don’t worry about my failing you, because I never will. I’ve made an excuse to Alysa and she’s accepted it. Luckily she’ll believe anything I tell her. So I’ll arrive on that plane, and, if you can be there to meet me, wonderful. If not, I’ll just go to our little home and wait for you.

‘It’s true,’ she said. ‘I believed whatever he told me, I loved him so much.’

In answer to Drago’s look she handed him the letter.

‘It’s dated just before my birthday,’ she said. ‘We had such plans. But then he said he had to go away for a few days-something to do with the prospect of a job as a photographer. When he came back he said he hadn’t got the job and it had been a wasted few days.’

‘You didn’t check up on him?’

‘I never checked up on him. I trusted him totally. I didn’t know he despised me for it.’

‘And now you can despise him,’ Drago said fiercely. ‘Let that be your revenge.’

‘Yes,’ she said in what she hoped was a strong voice. ‘You’re right, of course.’

But the words echoed bleakly through the emptiness inside her.