The Italian's Passionate Revenge

CHAPTER EIGHT

THERE was no doubt that it was Angelo. This was the picture she’d painted eight years and so many lives ago. She’d given it to him, had always wondered what he’d done with it. Now she knew.

‘That was my nephew,’ Signora Farnese said from behind her. ‘The one I was telling you about.’

Elise whirled to where the Signora had reappeared and was watching her sadly.

‘Your…nephew?’ She could hardly get the words out. A chill had taken possession of her, filling her with dread as she sensed the approach of something terrifying.

It was like being caught in the path of a runaway tank. She could see it about to mow her down, but she couldn’t move.

‘His name was Angelo,’ the Signora said softly. ‘I raised him and loved him as my own.’

Elise stood quite still, feeling herself turn to ice. It was the only way to cope with what she had learned. Angelo, the young man she had loved so desperately and mourned for so long, had come from this house, had been part of this family? Somewhere, far back in Elise’s consciousness, a voice was warning that this was not-could not-be coincidence. But she wasn’t quite ready to face the implications.

‘What…happened to him?’ she managed to ask.

‘He was the victim of a cruel woman,’ Signora Farnese said with a sudden fierce bitterness that seemed to shake her slight frame. ‘She killed him.’ Hearing Elise’s gasp of shock, she hurried on. ‘She as good as killed him. He took his own life because he couldn’t endure what she’d done to him.’

‘He…committed suicide?’ she whispered.

She had known that Angelo was dead, but not this.

‘What did this woman do to him?’ Elise asked in a voice that was almost inaudible.

‘She took his love, she made him believe that she loved him in return, but then she abandoned him for another man, a man with more money-or so she thought.’

‘I don’t…understand.’

‘Angelo wanted to be independent, so he rented a small apartment in Trastevere and lived like a poor student. I wonder if she would have jilted him so easily if she’d known that he had a wealthy family behind him.’

‘But perhaps she wasn’t influenced by money at all,’ Elise protested. ‘Maybe there was another reason.’

‘I never saw the other man, but people who did see him said that he was a bloated, middle-aged pig,’ the Signora snapped. ‘To choose such a one over Angelo-only money could explain it.’

Elise felt as though she were drowning. Fighting to keep her voice steady, she said, ‘What did he tell you about her?’

‘Very little. Not even her real name. He called her Peri, and he spent almost every moment with her. He would come home for half an hour, rave about his beloved Peri, then vanish again. Vincente and I used to laugh because it was so charming to see a young man so head over heels in love.’

‘Vincente…’

‘We said it would be the making of him, but it was his destruction.’

‘But how? You said he took his life…’

‘One day he came to this house, distraught. She’d told him their love was over, but he couldn’t really believe it. That night he returned to the apartment they shared, hoping to hear her say that it had all been a mistake, that she still loved him. But the other man was there; he saw them in the window, embracing-the other man taunted him…’

She broke off and closed her eyes.

Elise couldn’t speak. She could only stare at the other woman with mounting horror as she replayed the scene that had haunted her nightmares for years.

‘I heard this afterwards,’ the Signora resumed, ‘from other people who lived nearby and saw everything. Angelo stood in the garden below the window where she was. The neighbours heard him pleading with her, begging her not to betray him, and they saw her in the arms of the other man, letting him cover her with kisses, revelling in her disgusting behaviour.

‘When Angelo couldn’t bear it any longer he ran away and drove off in his car. That was the last time anyone saw him alive. He crashed the car. They had to pull him from it, but he was already dead.

‘And shall I tell you something else about that evil woman? According to the neighbours, she left Rome that night, without waiting to know what had happened to Angelo. So many times she said she loved him-he told me that-and yet she didn’t look back once.’

‘Not once?’ Elise faltered. ‘Surely she called him-?’

‘Perhaps she did. Some woman called the flat while I was there clearing out his things a week or so later. I told her he was dead, but I didn’t know who she was. I hope it was her. I hope she knows what she did. I hope it torments her for ever and breaks her heart, but I know she had no heart to break. She murdered him, but she doesn’t care.’

Elise felt as though a terrible clamouring filled the air. This moment had been lying in wait for her for eight years, and now that it was here she was without defences.

She didn’t know how long she stood there, but at last some quality in the silence warned her that everything had changed. Slowly she turned and found Vincente standing in the doorway, watching her with an expression of stone.

In that moment she knew everything. Her head was full of voices, screaming with denial, but it was useless. She knew.

‘Vincente, my dear boy!’ his mother cried in delight. ‘You didn’t tell me you were coming home.’

‘It was a last-minute decision, Mamma,’ he said. ‘I wanted to surprise you.’

‘It’s the nicest surprise I ever had.’ She gave him an eager hug. ‘I’ll go and order you some supper.’

She swept out, leaving them alone.

If Elise had had any doubts, his face told her the worst. She walked towards him and spoke quietly.

‘You knew. You’ve known who I was all the time.’

He didn’t reply in words, but he nodded. She stared at him, stunned. Her sense of betrayal was terrifying, blotting out everything else, but she knew she must struggle to keep calm. This was only the beginning.

‘I never dreamed,’ she whispered. ‘But I should have done, shouldn’t I? It’s so obvious when you know the missing detail.’

‘Elise-’

‘Angelo was your cousin.’

‘Hush!’ he said urgently. ‘Don’t let my mother hear you. She has no idea who you are, and she mustn’t know. I didn’t mean you to meet like this.’

‘You didn’t mean us to meet at all, lest I find out what you’ve been up to. I’ve been like a puppet dancing to your tune, haven’t I?’

‘There’s more to it than that. Wait until we’ve talked and don’t let my mother suspect, that’s all I ask.’

The Signora came bustling back with the news that his supper was on its way.

‘Just a snack, Mamma,’ he said quickly. ‘I have little appetite. I should take Elise home.’

‘Nonsense, my dear. Elise isn’t ready to go home. Now sit down while I bring you something.’

They had no choice but to obey her although the strain was written on both their faces. Almost singing with delight, the Signora placed food and coffee in front of her son and sat watching him possessively while he ate it.

‘Did your trip go well?’ she asked.

He forced himself to smile and reply. ‘So well that I felt able to return early.’

Elise wondered how he could manage that smile, that almost normal tone. But then she remembered that he was totally heartless, without feelings of his own and oblivious to those of others. How else could he have held her in his arms, speaking words of passion while secretly scheming against her?

Everything she’d thought was between them was compromised by the secret he’d been keeping. From the first moment, not one word he’d spoken to her had been true.

From the very first moment…

The pain was almost unbearable, but from somewhere she drew on reserves of courage to match his performance. If he could deceive, so could she. At all costs she would protect this sweet, elderly woman who had welcomed her so warmly.

So Elise said a few things that she could afterwards never recall, sounding as cheerful as possible, even managing a smile, while inside she was dying.

To make things worse, the Signora beamed from one to the other, clearly expecting matters to resolve themselves happily soon.

At last it was over. Vincente rose, declaring that he would take her home.

‘There’s no need,’ she said. ‘I can get a taxi.’

‘I will take you,’ he said firmly.

‘Of course,’ his mother said, kissing his cheek and adding in a stage whisper, ‘there’s no need to hurry back.’

They drove in silence until they reached her apartment, and then sat for a moment as though neither could find the strength to move.

‘Let’s go inside,’ he said at last.

‘I’d rather you left,’ she told him quietly.

‘Don’t judge me until you’ve heard what I have to say,’ he said in a hard voice.

They didn’t speak in the lift, or as they entered the apartment. Elise threw aside her jacket and shook her hair loose, wishing it was as easy to free herself from the recent events of her life.

‘You knew my connection with Angelo from the start,’ she said, like someone still trying to explain the facts to herself. ‘Before you came to England.’

‘Yes, I knew.’

Vaguely she recognised that there was something wrong with his voice. He didn’t sound like a man triumphant at the success of his schemes. He sounded as though tonight had left him feeling as stunned as herself.

Then she pushed the thought aside. She couldn’t afford any weakening.

‘How did you find me?’

‘I employed an investigator.’

‘My God!’

‘I knew almost nothing about you, even your real name. Angelo only ever called you Peri. The night Ben went to Trastevere he barged into the flat and barged out again without telling anyone his name. Afterwards I went through those rooms with a fine-tooth comb, certain that I’d find something to identify you-a letter, anything. But there wasn’t a scrap of paper connected with you.’

‘That was Ben’s doing,’ she said in a daze. ‘I remember he insisted on clearing everything out. He was obsessive. I was his property and he wasn’t going to leave any trace of me behind with another man.’

‘That sounds like Ben. At any rate, there was nothing there. I had to make do with a photograph of you that I found in Angelo’s pocket after he died.’

‘You gave my photograph to a private eye?’ she demanded, aghast.

‘It was all I had and, before you condemn me, you never saw Angelo when they took him out of that car, his face and body smashed…’

‘Don’t,’ she said huskily, turning away so that he couldn’t see the tears that sprang to her eyes.

‘I felt I was justified in anything I did, so I hired an investigator, but he found nothing. I had to give it up and for years that’s where it stood. But last year I heard of another man, called Razzini, practically a genius in this kind of work. He found you in a month.’

‘And that was why you offered Ben a job-to get him here, so that he’d bring me,’ Elise said bitterly.

‘Not just to make him bring you,’ Vincente said. ‘I hated him on his own account for what he did to Angelo and I wanted to make him pay.’

‘How? What were you going to do to him? Bankrupt him? Frame him for a crime and put him in gaol for years?’

‘I toyed with the idea. It would have been a pleasure.’

‘But you must have decided on something,’ she harried him. ‘Don’t be shy about it at this late date.’

A change was coming over Elise. Deep down she knew there was grief, but she could abandon herself to that later. Anger would be more use to her now.

She stood in front of him, furious and challenging.

‘So why don’t you give me a blow-by-blow description of everything you’ve done, starting with that day we met over Ben’s grave? I want to know it all-every lie you’ve told, every deception you’ve practised. Tell me about the times we’ve lain together and you’ve pretended to make love to me with a cheap, cynical laugh in your heart.’

His face darkened in a way that some people would have found frightening, but Elise was too blazingly angry to care.

‘How you must have relished that! What did you say to yourself at the time? This one’s for Angelo? Or did Angelo’s revenge come later-tonight, maybe, when you stood there and watched me as I suddenly saw the truth and understood the whole horrible thing you’d done to me?

‘But of course the revenge isn’t over, is it? It’ll be with me every moment from now on, poisoning each memory I have-not just of you but of him. My God, I was better off with Ben!

‘So tell me the whole story. I want to know every last detail, Vincente. Go on. Tell me!’

‘Shut up and listen,’ Vincente snapped. ‘If you want me to tell you what my final plans were, I can’t. I was waiting to meet you before deciding. Ben boasted about you. He might have betrayed you with every woman he met but he was still proud to have people know you were his, because you were beautiful. When I heard the pride in his voice I knew how I could hurt him.’

‘Through me?’

‘Yes.’

‘By doing what? Getting me to betray him, make a fool of him?’

Vincente didn’t answer. Suddenly her eyes kindled and she struck him. He jerked his head away but not in time. She could see the mark of her hand on his face, but he didn’t rub it. She guessed he wouldn’t give her the satisfaction.

‘That’s it, isn’t it?’ she breathed. ‘You’d have put Ben in the spotlight, made sure the whole world was looking at him, and then humiliated him as much as you could. But suppose I wouldn’t play your game? Or were you so certain that I’d fall at your feet?’

‘I’m not as bad as that,’ he snapped.

‘I think you are. You were sure of me, weren’t you? You thought you couldn’t fail, that I was little better than a hooker who’d follow any man who dangled money in front of me. That’s true, isn’t it? Admit it, damn you!’

‘I won’t-not the way you put it. Yes, I thought I had a chance, but you’re making it sound worse than it was.’

‘Just how much worse could it get? You have no idea how you sound to an ordinary decent person-that is, if I’m allowed to call myself a decent person, because plainly, in your eyes, I’m not. A bought woman and next thing to a murderess, right?’

‘Not now-’ he said quickly, and instantly realised his mistake.

‘But then. That’s how you saw me, isn’t it?’

‘Before I’d ever met you. All I knew was that Angelo loved you, and you broke his heart.’

‘I had no choice but to leave him.’

‘I know that now; I didn’t know it then.’

‘Ah, yes, it’s more convenient if you don’t know too much. Why burden yourself with accurate facts? Revenge is so much easier when it’s blind. You had no idea what really happened, but that didn’t stop you judging me, planning to humiliate me as well as Ben.’

Elise waited to see if he would answer this, but he only looked at her out of bleak, haggard eyes.

‘So,’ she said at last, ‘when we were having an affair under the eyes of the whole city-and it would have been the whole city, wouldn’t it?-what was going to happen then? Were you going to dump me in public, or wouldn’t that have been enough? Was I going to end up in gaol too?’

‘Of course not,’ he said angrily.

‘There’s no “of course” about it. You’d have done anything, wouldn’t you?’

‘Things didn’t work out the way I thought. You were different-but Ben was exactly as I expected. I thought I had him-’

Vincente clenched his hand, as though imagining that he had the hapless Ben trapped there.

‘And then he died and escaped you,’ she said satirically. ‘So you had to take it out on me alone. How disappointing for you! Plus you needed to think of another way of getting me here. So you came to Ben’s funeral, and took me to dinner that night. I was slipping through your fingers and you had to find a way to hold on to me, didn’t you? Didn’t you?’

‘Yes.’

‘That’s why you tried to persuade me to come back to Rome with you. I wonder what you’d have done if I’d found a buyer for the apartment.’

He didn’t answer, and suddenly the truth hit her.

‘You did that,’ she breathed. ‘You fixed it so I couldn’t find a buyer. I remember now-there was a man who made an offer but he backed out suddenly. That was your doing.’

‘Of course it was. I persuaded him to withdraw his offer…’

‘I wonder how you “persuaded” him. Or don’t I need to wonder.’

‘I was determined to stop you selling this place. It was my only way of getting you to Rome.’

‘Oh, I’ve really got to hand it to you,’ she said softly. ‘As a shrewd manipulator you’re the tops. But of course you have no conscience, which is a big help.’

‘You lecture me on conscience?’

‘I’ve always had a conscience about Angelo. I treated him badly but I didn’t want to. Ben had a hold over me. But you-plotting for eight years without let-up. How could you do that?’

‘I saw his dead body,’ he shouted. ‘I saw what the misery did to my mother. Do you expect me to forget that?’

‘Not to forget it, but not to rush to spread blame. You told me not to judge you too easily, but you’ve judged me every moment for the last eight years. You never thought that there might be something to be said on my side.’

‘No, I didn’t, and I’ve blamed myself for that ever since you told me how Ben forced you.’

‘But it came too late, didn’t it? I was already in the net by then. How you must have enjoyed closing it around me! Every word you said to me was a lie. Even when…’

She checked herself as a wave of anguish washed over her. She fought it with every fibre of her being. She couldn’t afford it.

Vincente, watching, drew a tense breath, but stayed still before the rage in her eyes.

‘Even when you seemed most sincere, it was a lie,’ she said. ‘That takes some doing. I congratulate you. It was a good act, but it’s over. You served your purpose.’

‘And what does that mean?’

‘It means you’re not the only one concealing their real thoughts. I hadn’t slept with a man for years. I was ready for-shall we say?-a new experience. No ties. No conditions. You fitted the bill perfectly.’

That struck home, she was glad to notice. He paled, his mouth tightened and his face had a withered look.

‘What are you saying?’ he asked warily.

‘You know exactly what I’m saying,’ Elise said, challenging him with her look. ‘I said you were shrewd and calculating, but you’re good in another way-just the way I needed. Do you want me to elaborate?’

‘I don’t think you need to,’ he said quietly.

‘I didn’t know a man could be that skilled in bed,’ she went on, disregarding him. ‘It’s something I won’t forget, because it gives me a touchstone to measure the others by.’

‘Others?’

‘In the future. And there are going to be others, make no mistake. You did a fine job; now I’m going to discover just how fine. I remember everything, you see. Are your special little touches yours alone, or do other men know them? And, if not, how quickly can they be taught? Never mind. I’ll have fun finding out.’

‘Don’t talk like that,’ he almost shouted.

‘I’ll talk as I like. If you don’t like it, tough. Remember, I’m partly your creation. I’ve learned a lot from you, not just about sex but about cruelty and ruthlessness, deception with a straight face. I’m glad of it. Your lessons are going to come in very useful.’

His mouth twisted cynically. ‘Well done, Elise. You turned out to be everything I thought of you. I knew you’d show your true colours in the end.’

‘Yes, you did, didn’t you? And now I have. So have you. So we can toss each other on the scrap heap and go our separate ways without regret.’

‘An admirable idea,’ he snapped. ‘I’m glad you feel you learned something from me.’

‘Ruthlessness, manipulation-’

‘I’m commonly held to be a master. You’ve been learning from the best.’

‘Every word you ever said to me-’

‘Pretence, all of them. Every word, every caress, every moment of passion-all done for a purpose.’

‘All those times we made love-?’

‘You don’t really think I could love you, do you?’ he demanded coldly. ‘To me, you’re little better than a murderess. I know my mother thinks Angelo committed suicide because he couldn’t endure what you’d done to him, and perhaps he did-’

‘Perhaps?’ She seized on this. ‘Aren’t you sure? Is that what the witnesses said?’

‘There were no witnesses. Nobody saw the actual crash.’

‘Then it might have been an accident,’ she said desperately.

Elise turned away, putting her hands over her ears, but he followed, turning her forcibly, pulling her hands down and holding her.

‘Let me go!’

She struggled but his grip on her wrists was vicious.

‘No, you’re going to listen to me.’ He released her hands but imprisoned her again by putting both arms around her and holding her hard against his chest.

‘This time you don’t get away with blocking it out,’ he rasped.

‘You’re going to hear the truth and live with it, and I hope it destroys you for life, as it’s destroyed other people. Are you listening?’

‘Yes,’ she whispered.

‘Angelo had driven that road a hundred times, even in the dark, and never had an accident before. So why that night? Maybe he did it deliberately, or maybe he was so wretched that he didn’t notice what he was doing. Either way, it’s your doing.’

He stopped, still holding her. His mouth was so close that she could feel his hot breath, as so often in the past when they had embraced. But this time there was only hatred and his desire to hurt her.

She twisted her head away as far as possible so that he couldn’t see the tears pouring down her cheeks, but he took her chin, raising it so that he could look into her face, and the tears fell over his hand.

He released her as if stung, and she had to stagger to stop herself falling. Blinded by misery, she didn’t see the quick, supportive movement of his hand towards her, a movement that he checked at once.

‘I meant to say all this long ago,’ he said. ‘I should have done, but I weakened for a while because you have your attractions. But, in the end, nothing has really changed. We were always headed for this place.’

She stared at him and forced herself to speak calmly through the thunder of her heart. ‘Nice to get everything clear,’ she said.

‘Exactly.’

‘I want you to leave, Vincente. Now!’

He hesitated for a moment and she thought he was about to refuse. But then he made a gesture of resignation and walked out.

When he’d gone Elise stood in the centre of the apartment in a daze, not moving, listening to the silence which seemed to roar in her ears. After a while she began to wander around but not with any purpose, just going here and there without seeing where.

What did you do when your life had crashed into a stone wall?

At last her steps took her to her bedroom where she undressed like an automaton, got into bed and lay staring into the darkness.

Angelo seemed to be there, looking at her with love and reproach. He had loved her, and she’d caused his death. Vincente had been right about that. However it had happened, she had killed him.

‘I’m sorry,’ she whispered to him. ‘I’m so sorry.’

But the reproach was still there in his eyes, and she knew they would haunt her for the rest of her life. The truth would destroy her, as Vincente hoped. And she couldn’t even blame him.

Hours passed. Only half realising, she was listening for the phone to ring, but there was only silence.

When morning came she was still awake, still in the same position. She wanted to weep but couldn’t. Her heart was frozen.

She managed to get up long enough to splash some water on her face and make some tea. But after one cup she lost interest and returned to bed. She was shivering now and couldn’t stop, although the day was warm.

She tried to sleep but there was no escape from the images chasing themselves around her brain in a merciless circle. Angelo had faded now, but there was no relief because his place was taken by Vincente and his deception that had undermined everything, poisoning each memory, leaving her with nothing.

With a sense of horror she recalled their very first meeting, when Vincente had seemed to defend her against Mary by mounting a subtle attack.

‘She has a heart of stone and a brain of ice.’

The words had seemed a clever device but now they returned, imbued with a hideous new meaning.

‘There’s always justice in the end, however long the wait.’

Vincente had sought her out, hating her for what he took to be her heart of stone, looking forward to a ‘justice’ too long delayed. And his words had been a threat and a warning, if only she could have seen it.

Now there was a hard pain inside her where her heart should have been. It was growing every moment despite her attempts to hold it back. But she was stronger now. She knew the truth, so logically there was no cause for weeping. She would hold on to that thought and make her plans to leave this place, so that she need never see him again.

But the words dissolved into thin air while the pain grew and grew until at last a cry that was almost a scream broke from her, and after that nothing would hold back the sobs.

Elise didn’t know how long she wept, but at some point she fell asleep and when she opened her eyes it was light. Tears were still pouring down her cheeks and she wondered if she’d cried as she slept.

‘But no more,’ she muttered. ‘I’ll never cry for him again. That’s finished. Everything is finished.’

Soon she would get up and resume her normal life. But the minutes passed and she didn’t move. She wondered if she would ever move again.

Another day and night passed like this. Distantly she could hear the traffic from the road outside, but there was no other sound. The phone never rang. She felt dead. Her heart was dead, her body was dead. Only her brain lived and it was full of scorn for herself and how easily she’d been deluded.

The signs had been there from the start. On the first evening she’d even jokingly accused him of coming for revenge, and his startled reaction should have warned her that something was amiss. But she’d been too deluded by her attraction to him to heed the signs.

And when he’d returned, months later, she’d told herself that he was as attracted to her as she to him-that was why he couldn’t stay away.

Fool! Idiot!

From outside she could hear the rain begin, growing louder as it turned into a thunderstorm. She could hear the water pounding against the window and it seemed to blend with her tears, which wouldn’t stop. She fell asleep again, but the storm pursued her so that the thunder and lightning became part of her own grief. When she awoke she had the feeling that she’d slept the clock round, perhaps twice. She no longer knew anything.

At last she managed to stand up and make her way to the kitchen, where she poured herself some mineral water, but suddenly she become nauseous and ran for the bathroom.

After so long without food, all she could do was heave helplessly, but at last it stopped and she managed to get back to the kitchen and make some tea. The hot liquid soothed her insides, giving her a brief rush of energy.

She needed to get out of this echoing place where his malign ghost seemed to mock her. Anywhere would do. Another cup of hot tea strengthened her enough for her to dress and leave the building. She found that it was later than she’d thought, with the light already fading as she made her way along the street.

Elise was vaguely aware that people were looking at her but she didn’t care. Lights swirled about her, traffic roared in her ears, but she had only one thought. She must get to the Trevi Fountain. Angelo was waiting for her there, and there was something she must say to him. He’d waited too long to hear it, and if she delayed he might be gone and never hear the words-if only she could remember what they were.

She quickened her pace, turning across the road in the direction she was sure led to the fountain. But halfway across she became confused. A huge truck was bearing down on her. There were shouts and screaming from the side of the road, and the next moment she was lying unconscious on the ground.