The Mediterranean Rebel’s Bride

CHAPTER THREE

POLLY gave them fifteen minutes before entering Ruggiero’s room, where he lay in bed, now dressed in dark brown silk pyjamas. Hope sat beside him.

‘That headache’s pretty terrible, isn’t it?’ Polly asked sympathetically.

‘You could say that,’ he said in a painful whisper.

‘This will make it better and give you some sleep.’ She opened one hand, showing him a couple of pills, and held up a glass of water in the other.

This time he didn’t argue, but struggled up and swallowed the pills, and lay back at once, eyes closed.

‘He’ll be better in the morning,’ Polly assured Hope. ‘Why don’t you go back to your guests?’

‘I don’t like to leave him alone.’

‘Don’t worry-he won’t be alone,’ Polly said. ‘I’m staying here.’

‘Are you sure that-?’

Hope checked herself suddenly, and a strange look came over her face. Her children could have told her that it meant Mamma was hatching a plot, but Polly, seeing it for the first time, was merely puzzled.

‘Of course you’re right,’ Hope said. ‘I know he’s safe with you.’

She gave Polly a peck on the cheek and hurried out. Polly turned out all the lights except one small lamp, and went to the window. From there she could see light as the guests spilled out into the garden. Luckily the double glazing deadened the sound, although she doubted if he would have heard anything for a while even without that.

He stirred, groaning softly, and she returned to the bed.

‘It’s all right,’ she said. ‘I’m here. Let it go.’

She could hardly have said what she meant by those words, but he seemed to understand them at once and became quiet. She drew up a chair and sat close to the bed, leaning forward to whisper, ‘Let it go. There’ll be time later. But for now-let her go.’

He gave no sign of hearing, so she couldn’t tell if he’d heard the subtle change she’d made in the words.

One by one Ruggiero’s family looked in. Sometimes they spoke to her in whispers; sometimes they merely smiled. Hope opened the door quietly and stood watching Polly by the bed, her eyes fixed on Ruggiero. She waited a long time for Polly to move, then smiled, nodded to herself, and backed out, unseen.

A few minutes later Evie wheeled in a small trolley, laden with party food, plus wine, mineral water, and a pot of tea. Polly drank the tea thankfully. Tonight looked like being a two-pot problem.

Ruggiero lay without moving and she sat beside him, relieved that he seemed calm at last. When she was sure he was resting properly she rose and crossed again to the window. It was now quiet enough for her to risk opening it and looking out to where the last of the guests were drifting into the cars that would take them away, waving goodbye to Hope and her husband Toni.

She was about to draw back when another car drew up. The driver got out and pulled a bag from the back seat, showing it to Hope, who made a gesture of satisfaction.

Then Polly stiffened and leaned out further, frowning as she recognised the bag as her own, and the truth dawned on her. Hope had sent someone to the hotel to bring her things here-and she’d done it without so much as a by-your-leave.

Toni glanced up, saw her, and nudged Hope, who also looked up. In the lamplight Polly saw her smile in a slightly guilty way, and shrug as if to say, What else could I do?

She drew back, closing the window, and a minute later Hope was there at the door, beckoning her into the corridor.

‘Don’t think badly of me,’ she begged, ‘but you are so good for Ruggiero I had to make sure he had you looking after him all the time.’

‘So you just hi-jacked me?’ Polly observed mildly.

‘We will make you very welcome here,’ Hope promised, avoiding a direct answer. ‘You’ll be paid, and of course your hotel bill has been taken care of. Please don’t be angry with me.’

Her manner was placating, but it was clear that Hope Rinucci had simply taken the shortest route to getting her own way. Polly was more amused than annoyed. For one thing, moving into the villa would be helpful for her mission.

Just down the corridor she heard a door open, and the chauffeur went into the room next to Ruggiero’s with her suitcase.

‘I think you’ll be comfortable here,’ Hope said, leading her inside. ‘You have only to ask for anything you want.’

After the cramped poverty of the hotel, the luxury of this room was a pleasant change. The double bed looked inviting, and there was extensive wardrobe space and a private bathroom. This was the home of a wealthy family. Ruggiero’s own bedroom, though severe and reflecting a masculine taste, was furnished with the finest of everything.

Polly took a quick moment to unpack her few clothes, then changed her party outfit for jeans and flat shoes. For her top she chose a plain white blouse that she hoped would make her look nurse-like. Then she returned to Ruggiero and prepared to settle down for the night.

Hope looked in one last time, and after that the lights went off and the house grew silent. Slowly the hours ticked away, and Polly’s eyelids began to droop. It had been a long day, filled with incident, and weariness was catching up with her.

Suddenly her body gave a little jerk and her eyes flew open. She breathed out hard and forced herself to wake up properly. Then she realised that Ruggiero was looking at her. She thought he was smiling faintly, but in the dark it was hard to be sure.

‘All right?’ he asked.

‘Was I asleep long?’

‘About ten minutes.’

‘I’m sorry.’

‘Don’t apologise. It’s nice to know I’m not the only one who finds things happening that weren’t planned.’

He hauled himself up painfully in the bed.

‘I think I ate something that disagreed with me-or drank something. Can you help me to the bathroom?’

He put an arm around her shoulder and she steadied him as far as the bathroom door, where he gingerly felt his ribs.

‘You may have been right,’ he conceded. ‘I’m not saying you were, but you might have been. I’ll manage from here.’

When he came slowly out she’d remade the bed and put on the small lamp. She reached out to help him but he waved her away.

‘I’m feeling a bit more human now my stomach’s settled. Ah, that’s better.’

He lay down and let her pull the duvet over him.

‘How’s the pain?’ she asked gently.

‘My head isn’t too bad, but my shoulder and side feel as if they’ve been bashed with a sledgehammer.’

‘It’s time for a couple more pills. But they don’t mix well with alcohol, so no more drinking until you’ve stopped taking them.’

‘When will that be?’

‘When I say,’ she told him with quiet authority.

He took them from her, and accepted a glass of water, as docile now as he’d been aggressive before. When he lay back she turned out the lamp again, so that the only light in the room was the soft touch of moonlight.

‘There’s something different about you,’ he said suddenly. ‘You’ve changed your clothes.’

‘Yes, I’m here for a few days. I’ve checked out of my hotel and into the room next door.’

‘How did Mamma persuade you to do that?’

‘Good heavens-you don’t think she asked me first, do you?’

He gave a short bark of laughter that ended in a gasp of pain. ‘Of course. I should have remembered Mamma’s way. When did you find out?’

‘When my things arrived.’

‘I’m sorry. Just taking you over like that-what about your holiday?’

‘That doesn’t matter,’ she said hastily. ‘Go to sleep now.’

He stared at her for a while before saying vaguely, ‘Was it you by the track?’

‘Yes, it was me.’

‘Are you sure? No-that’s stupid-I mean-’

‘Who did you think it was?’ she risked saying.

‘What?’

‘I need to know how much you can remember. It’ll tell me how serious your concussion is.’

‘I did several laps and everything was all right. But then-’ He took a long, shaking breath. ‘Why did you come onto the track?’

‘I didn’t.’

‘But you did. You were walking straight towards me, and your hair was blowing in the wind. I could have ridden right over you, but you didn’t seem to realise that. You were smiling-like the time-’

His breathing was becoming laboured and she went to him quickly, trying to soothe him.

‘It wasn’t me. Truly. It was the speed that confused you, and that visor. You couldn’t have seen anything properly. Just an illusion-someone who wasn’t really there.’

‘But-she was there,’ he whispered. ‘I saw her-’

‘You couldn’t have. It’s impossible.’

‘How can you be sure?’

‘Because-’Suddenly realising that she was straying onto a dangerous path, she checked herself. At this moment she couldn’t tell him why she was sure he would never see Sapphire again. The truth would crush him.

‘Because if there had been anyone on the track you’d have hit them,’ she said.

‘You can’t hit a ghost,’ he said wearily. ‘Do you believe in ghosts?’

‘Yes,’ she murmured, saying it almost against her will. ‘I try not to, but sometimes people just won’t let go-no matter what you do, they’re always with you.’

‘So you know that too?’

‘Yes,’ she said quietly. ‘I know that too. Go to sleep now.’

He moved his hand forward and back, then sideways, as though searching for something. She reached out and took his hand, feeling the tension in it.

‘It’s going to be all right,’ she said.

Some corner of his mind-the part of him that argued with everything-wanted to demand how she could be so sure. But the argument retreated before the reassurance of her clasp. His thoughts were confused.

She’d said, ‘Please don’t argue with me. It’s a waste of time,’-talking like his mother. He’d tried to be annoyed, but it had been a relief to have her rescue him from the hole that his pride had dug for him. Hell would freeze over before he admitted that he’d been ready to collapse into bed, but she’d known without being told.

At last the tension began to fade. His eyes closed, his hand relaxed, and he was asleep.

As dawn broke Hope looked in.

‘Is he all right?’

‘Sleeping like a baby,’ Polly assured her.

‘Then why don’t you go and get some sleep? I’ll take over for a while.’

‘Thank you.’

In her own room she snuggled blissfully down in the luxurious bed. When she awoke the sun was high in the sky. She stood under the shower, wondering what the day would bring and whether she would get the chance to fulfil her mission.

As she finished dressing she looked at her watch and was shocked to see that it was ten o’clock.

‘Hope said to let you sleep,’ said Evie, who’d just popped in.

‘I’d better go and see my patient.’

‘I’ll send your breakfast up.’

She paused outside Ruggiero’s room, wondering how difficult he would be this morning, and how much he would remember of the night before. She found him watching the door.

‘Come in,’ he said.

He sounded cautious, and she felt much the same as she approached the bed. Neither was quite sure of the other’s mood, and for a moment they looked at each other.

‘I apologise,’ he said at last.

‘For-what?’

‘For whatever I did. I don’t remember much about last night, but I’m pretty sure I acted unforgivably.’

‘You acted like a damned fool,’ she said frankly. ‘Like a complete and total idiot. I’ve never seen such blinding stupidity in my whole life.’

‘Hey, don’t sit on the fence. Tell me what you really think of me.’

That broke the ice, and they shared a grin.

‘Yes, I guess I shouldn’t have gone clowning around after bumping my head,’ he admitted. ‘But, hey, it’s a tough world. Don’t let them see any sign of weakness or the tigers pounce.’

‘But they weren’t tigers at that track,’ she said. ‘They were your friends. And perhaps having to impress people all the time is also a sign of weakness.’

He looked alarmed. ‘Are you going to psychoanalyse me?’

‘That’s all for today. I’ll save the rest until you’re feeling better.’

‘I’m all right,’ he said in a dispirited voice. ‘Except that I don’t seem to have any energy.’

‘You’ve probably got a hangover as well as everything else. I want you to stay in bed for a while. Or are you going to fight me about that?’

‘No, ma’am. I’m sure you know best.’

She regarded him cynically. ‘You must be worse than I thought.’

There was no chance to say more, because Evie appeared with Polly’s breakfast, and after that the rest of the family came to say goodbye before returning to their distant homes. Ruggiero greeted them all boisterously, cracked jokes and generally acted the part of a man who was on top of the world. But when it was over his forehead was damp and he was full of tension.

‘That was quite a performance,’ she said sympathetically.

‘Sure-a sign of weakness, like you said.’

‘Not this time. You sent them off easier in their minds about you.’

He tried to shrug, but immediately winced, making a face and rubbing his shoulder.

‘You should let me look at that.’

She helped him off with the pyjama jacket, revealing a shoulder that looked inflamed.

‘I haven’t broken anything,’ he said, sounding mulish again.

‘Will you leave me to make the diagnosis?’ she asked lightly. ‘As a matter of fact I don’t think you have broken anything, because otherwise you’d be in a lot more pain than you are. But stop trying to take over.’

‘Yes, I’m wasting my time doing that with you.’ He sounded resigned.

‘That’s right,’ she told him. ‘I’ve seen off far more troublesome patients than you.’

‘Yeah?’

‘Yeah!’

‘Yeah?’

‘Yeah!’

She was slowly working on his shoulder, feeling for injury, talking to distract him.

‘On the wards they call me Nurse Bossy-Boots. People scurry for cover at my approach.’

‘Think you can make me run?’

‘Right this minute nothing could make you run. You might manage a stagger, but even then I’d have to hold you up.’

He started to laugh, but ended with a sharp gasp. ‘Don’t make me laugh,’ he begged.

She eased herself behind him, one knee on the bed so that she could reach his shoulder from the best angle. He drew a deep breath of relief, muttering, ‘That’s better.’

For a while neither of them spoke while she worked on the shoulder, massaging it until it relaxed, then moved his arm gently in several directions. It was bruised and inflamed, but not dislocated. She finished by rubbing in some of the gel the doctor had left with her.

Studying him professionally, she saw that he was in superb physical condition, lean and muscular, as she would have expected from a man who lived an athletic life, and evenly tanned, as though he swam a good deal under the hot sun.

He carried so little weight that when he leaned forward for her to examine his spine she could easily make out its straight line, and the lines of his ribs.

‘It wouldn’t hurt you to gain a few pounds,’ she observed, flexing her fingers gently against his skin. ‘It might give you something to land on.’

‘I’d put on weight if I could. I eat like a horse but I stay like this.’

‘Lucky you. Lie back.’

She pressed him gently back against the pillows while she felt his ribs at the front.

‘A couple of cracks,’ she confirmed, ‘but you’ve got off very lightly, considering.’

‘You’re not going to drag me off to hospital to be strapped up?’

‘There’s no need. Strapping fixes your ribs, but it can make it harder to breathe. So just be careful how you move and it’ll heal naturally.’

The quiet authority in her voice seemed to ease his mind, and she felt him relaxing under her hands.

‘Let’s put your jacket back on,’ she said. ‘Then I’ll give you a couple more pills.’

He winced as she slid the jacket back over his shoulders, but at last it was done. He accepted the pills with a faint smile, and was soon asleep.

The house was quiet now that the guests had departed, and Hope, Toni and Francesco had travelled to the airport to see off the English party. Polly listened to the silence, which seemed to have an edgy quality, and thought she was being warned that this tranquil time could not last for ever. The moment was approaching.

She slipped next door and found the picture of Freda and the young man she now knew as Ruggiero. She studied his face a while, trying to reconcile its glowing joy with the dour, tense individual he had become. Then she put it in her pocket and returned to sit quietly with him until she heard a car return late in the afternoon.

Hope and Toni came in together, full of gratitude.

‘I will stay with my son for a while,’ Toni said, ‘while you go down for supper.’

Ruggiero was awake but drowsy as Toni slipped into the room.

‘All gone?’ he asked, yawning.

‘Their flight took off on time. How are you feeling?’

‘OK, I guess. I seem to be floating.’ Suddenly he remembered. ‘Poppa, do you know what Mamma did? She practically kidnapped Polly.’

‘Don’t blame me,’ his father said hastily. ‘I knew nothing about it until it was too late. You know your mother.’

‘But didn’t you make some protest?’

‘Why? I’m glad you’re being properly cared for.’

‘I guess she told you what to say,’ Ruggiero said with wry amusement. ‘You’re bullied-you know that?’

‘Oh, no,’ Toni said seriously. ‘Your mamma never bullies me. She knows what I need before I know myself, and she makes sure that I have it.’

‘There’s a difference?’

‘Yes,’ Toni said simply. ‘There’s a difference.’

Downstairs the table was spread with a banquet, and Polly found herself treated as an honoured guest. Hope ceremonially poured champagne, clinked glasses, and produced an envelope plump with euros.

‘But this is far too much,’ Polly gasped. ‘I can’t take it all.’

‘You are worth every penny,’ Hope declared. ‘Not only for what you are doing for us, but also because you have allowed us to take over your holiday without complaint.’

‘That’s all right,’ Polly said awkwardly. ‘It wasn’t really a holiday.’

‘Do you mean that you have to return to England soon? When are you due back at your job?’

‘I don’t have a job at the moment.’

‘Aha-then you are free to remain as long as you wish. Good. You will stay with us. Now, let us eat.’

Toni joined them after a while, with the news that Ruggiero was sleeping.

‘I’ll go back fairly soon,’ Polly said.

They made it hard for her-treating her like a queen, toasting her with champagne, encouraging her to talk about herself. That was a dangerous subject, and she had to be circumspect, but these were warm-hearted people, taking what they wanted with a charm that threatened to melt her heart.

As soon as possible she brought the conversation back to Ruggiero, explaining about his condition and how she could take care of it.

‘He’ll be fine if he can be persuaded to rest for a few days,’ she finished.

‘You can persuade him,’ Hope declared. ‘You have him eating out of your hand.’

Polly put her head on one side. ‘I try to picture him eating out of anyone’s hand,’ she said whimsically, ‘but it’s beyond me.’ As they laughed, she added, ‘Thank you for a lovely meal. Now I think I’ll go upstairs and crack the whip a little. Goodnight.’

She seated herself quietly beside Ruggiero’s bed, seeing with satisfaction that he was deeply, contentedly asleep. She waited beside him for a while, dozing gently herself, so that she didn’t notice when he awoke, and didn’t know that his eyes were open until he murmured, ‘Polly.’

‘Yes, I’m here. Is something the matter?’

‘Yes, in a way. I’m so sorry.’

‘Hey, you’ve already apologised.’

‘For being a jerk, but not for-’ He broke off, groaning, ‘I hit you, didn’t I? When you were by me on the track-I seem to remember-’

‘You sent me flying,’ she said lightly. ‘But it was an accident. You didn’t mean to do it. You were just flailing around blindly.’

‘I do a lot of that, I’m afraid.’

‘It wasn’t your fault,’ she said in a rallying voice. ‘Why are you so determined to give yourself a hard time?’

‘Perhaps somebody ought to,’ he said grimly.

She was touched by this glimpse of humility, so unexpected.

‘You’re very quiet,’ he said. ‘Are you sure you don’t blame me?’

‘Honestly-it’s not that.’

‘Then what is it? What’s the mystery, Polly? And don’t try to brush me off, because I’ve been lying here doing a lot of thinking, and I don’t reckon you just happened to be at the track-did you?’

‘No,’ she admitted. ‘It wasn’t an accident.’ She took a long breath. ‘Maybe it’s time I told you everything.’

Suddenly the enormity of what she had to tell him came over her. She’d wanted to choose her moment-not have it forced on her like this.

‘I meant to tell you earlier,’ she said at last. ‘But then you were ill so I had to wait.’

‘Whatever it is, I think I need to know.’

Switching on the bedside lamp, she reached into her bag and took out the photograph of him with Freda.

‘I think this will explain part of it,’ she said, handing it to him.

As he stared at the picture she saw a change come over him-but not the one she’d expected. After the first shock he became possessed by dark fury.

‘You’ve been going through my things,’ he accused.

‘Of course not.’

‘You must have done, or you couldn’t have this picture.’

‘That isn’t yours,’ she said urgently.

‘Don’t lie to me.’

‘I’m not lying. I have one too. Yours is still wherever you keep it.’

He hauled himself up in bed, wincing, so that she reached out to help him. He pushed her away.

‘Get off me,’ he snapped.

She realised that she should have thought of this, but she hadn’t.

He made it painfully over to the chest of drawers on the far side of the room, pulled open the top drawer and reached deep inside. Polly wondered at the swift change in him. There was no trace now of the humility that had briefly touched her heart. His streak of ferocity, never far below the surface, had reasserted itself.

She saw his face change as he drew something out of the drawer and looked at it. She guessed it was the companion picture. Coming slowly back to the bed, he almost fell onto it, breathing hard with the pain. In silence she handed the first photograph back to him. He gazed from one picture to the other, like a man who’d received a stunning blow.

‘Where did you get this?’ he demanded hoarsely.

‘She gave it to me.’

‘She?’

‘My cousin-Freda. She said you went to the funfair together and had the pictures taken in a machine. There were two, and you took one each.’

‘Freda?’

‘You knew her as Sapphire.’

He turned his head on the pillow, looking at her intently.

‘Take your hair down,’ he said.

‘Surely there’s-?’

‘Do it.’

A quick movement and it fell about her face. She guessed that the dim light emphasised her likeness to Freda, and was certain of it when he closed his eyes, as if to shut her out.

‘That’s why I thought you were her,’ he said, almost to himself.

‘It’s not much of a resemblance. She was always the beautiful one.’

He opened his eyes again and studied her. She was sure the contrast between her and his fantasy image struck painfully.

‘You said she’s your cousin?’

‘She was,’ Polly said softly. ‘She’s dead now.’