The Mediterranean Rebel’s Bride

CHAPTER FIVE

THEY were to spend two nights in England-the first in Polly’s home and the second with Justin and Evie, who were eager to see the new arrival.

During the flight Hope asked about Polly’s fiancé, assuming, as Ruggiero had done, that he would meet them. Polly repeated the excuse about ‘Brian’s’ night duty, and Hope seemed to accept it.

Although the matriarch of an Italian family, Hope was English, and she knew the country well.

‘How do you come to live in London if you come from Yorkshire?’ she asked.

‘I was engaged several years ago, but we broke up. I wanted to get away so I came south. Freda joined me when she became ill.’

‘And the baby is-how old?’

‘Eighteen months.’

‘Is he walking?’

‘Oh, yes, he’s well grown. He took his first tentative step at nine months.’

‘So did Ruggiero,’ Hope said with satisfaction. ‘He and Carlo competed to see who could walk first, and they’ve been vying with each other ever since.’

They were to collect Matthew the next morning, as it would be too late to do it that day. The light was fading when they arrived in the evening. When they had sent out for a take-away meal, and were sitting together in the tiny kitchen, Hope said gently, ‘Why don’t you tell me the things you couldn’t say in front of Ruggiero?’

Faced with this kindly understanding, Polly explained everything. At the end Hope nodded sadly.

‘He said very little when he got home-something about a “holiday romance”, but so casually that it seemed to mean nothing. I should have seen through that, but there had been so many-’ She made a sad gesture.

‘I imagine he was very determined to keep his secrets?’ Polly suggested. ‘Freda summed him up as “love ’em and leave ’em,” and maybe for a man like that…’ She hesitated, but Hope understood.

‘It would be very difficult to find that he was the one left,’ she filled in. ‘That must have made it harder for him to cope with. I wonder how much more there was?’

‘I don’t know-and I’m sure he doesn’t,’ Polly reflected. ‘It was all built on fantasies, because he knew nothing about her-not that she was married, or that she had a secret agenda. He didn’t even know her real name. I know how you must feel about her, but please don’t hate her.’

‘Once I might have done,’ Hope admitted. ‘But she ended so sadly that I must forgive her. Is this where you lived together?’

‘Yes, until just a few weeks ago. Then she went into hospital for the last time.’

‘She was beautiful,’ Hope said, studying the pictures.

‘It was more than just beauty. She had that extra “something” that we’d all like to have. A kind of magic. I think he’s been trying to cope by pretending to himself that that it really was just a holiday romance. He might have managed it if I hadn’t turned up. Now he has to face what actually happened, and I don’t think he knows how.’

‘But you’ll help him, won’t you?’ Hope urged. ‘You are special to him because of her. You’re the only one he can turn to now. I, his mother, say so.’

‘I’ll do my best. I want things to turn out well for little Matthew.’

‘And only for him? Oh, yes-you are engaged to be married, aren’t you? I forgot.’

When they had gone to bed Polly lay awake, feeling the little flat full of ghosts. Freda seemed to be here again, chattering feverishly about herself and her conquests, especially Ruggiero.

‘He was so strong, Polly, and that makes a man so much more exciting. He’d hold me tight in his arms and love me and love me and love me, all through the night. But he always had energy for more.’

By then her sickness had been far advanced, her beauty gone, and Polly had listened kindly to the tales of triumphs that would never come again.

‘He’s an athlete, you know,’ Freda had purred. ‘Likes to live an active life. Well, I could see that as soon as he was naked-all well-developed muscles and not an ounce of fat. Just looking at him, I knew he was made for love.’ Then she’d given Polly a sideways glance, with a touch of malice. ‘I don’t disturb you, talking like that, do I?’

‘No,’ Polly had said. ‘You don’t.’

It was true. In those days Ruggiero had had no reality for her. Freda’s descriptions had conjured up no pictures.

But things had changed. Now that she’d seen him and held him in her arms the words came alive with vivid meaning.

‘I knew he was made for love.’

She sat up sharply, breathing hard, staring into the darkness.

‘Nonsense,’ she said to herself.

Suddenly it was impossible to sleep. She had to get up and walk restlessly about.

‘It’s getting to me,’ she muttered. ‘I need to finish this, come home, get a job, live a normal life-whatever that is-and forget about him.’

It was impossible. She could vividly recall running her fingers over his skin, seeking injuries; a coolly professional action at the time, but one which brought her senses alive in retrospect.

But what affected her even more was the memory of him clasping her hand with painful intensity as he begged for some pictures of the woman he’d loved, and spoke the terrible words ‘too late’.

In her mind she heard Hope saying, ‘You are special to him,’ and was dismayed at the tiny flicker of pleasure she’d felt until Hope had quenched it by adding, ‘because of her.’

Special to him, but only because of her, she thought. I guess I’d better remember that, just in case I get any silly ideas.

She lay down again, and, by dint of talking sensibly to herself, finally managed to get to sleep.

Next morning was chaos. Iris, the friend caring for Matthew, called early to say that one of her own children was being whisked to hospital with a broken leg, and she needed to offload the baby fast.

‘Joe will pass your house on the way to the hospital.’

Joe, her husband, turned up half an hour later with Matthew. The toddler, sensing a crisis, was bawling at the top of his voice, drowning out Polly’s attempts to introduce Hope, enquire after the injured daughter, and thank him.

Luckily Hope knew all about babies, and picked him up without the slightest fuss or bother. Polly had thought of so many things to say, but nothing was necessary. Hope cooed and smiled-until the noise died suddenly, and grandson and grandmother were left considering each other in silence.

He burped.

A broad smile broke over Hope’s face and she laughed in delight. At once he returned the smile, burping again. Hope pulled him tightly against her and dropped her head so that her face was hidden. When she raised it again there were tears on her cheeks.

‘My grandson,’ she said huskily. ‘Oh, yes, he’s mine. We knew each other at once.’

As they got ready to leave Hope said, ‘Why don’t you call your fiancé and invite him to join us tonight at Justin and Evie’s place?’

‘That’s kind of you,’ Polly said hastily. ‘But I don’t think he could get away-’

‘But you won’t know if you don’t ask him. Or you could slip out and see him now. We have a few extra hours, since Matthew is here early, so you could make use of them.’

Polly assented, because she guessed her refusals might start to sound unconvincing. It would give her a couple of hours to do some shopping.

‘Have you had a good time?’ Hope asked as soon as she arrived home.

‘Wonderful, thank you,’ she said brightly.

She just about managed to infuse her manner with delight, as befitted a woman who’d seized a few stolen minutes with her lover, but she wasn’t enough of an actress to carry it further, so when Hope would ask more questions she gave a little shriek.

‘Is that the time? We should be going or we’ll be late.’

Soon they were on their way to Justin and Evie’s home, and mercifully Hope dropped the subject. She talked instead about the phone call she’d had with Ruggiero.

‘I told him all about his son, how beautiful he is. I said you were out so little Matthew and I were getting to know each other. He sounded very pleased.’

Polly longed to ask if Hope had told Ruggiero that she was meeting Brian, but she didn’t dare. Instead she said how much she was looking forward to talking to Evie again, and soon they reached their destination.

After the tense misery of the last year it was wonderful to visit a cheerful home, with a husband and wife who loved each other, their baby twins, and Justin’s teenage son. Evie and Hope went into a happy huddle over Matthew, who was all smiles for a while, but then tried to play a rough game with the family puppy, who objected and ran away. The toddler vented his frustration in a screaming fit.

‘Just like his father,’ Hope observed, picking him up. ‘He always roared at the world when it didn’t dance to his tune.’

Her eyes met Polly’s and the silent message, And he hasn’t changed, flashed between them.

‘You two really understand each other,’ Evie said when she and Hope were alone. ‘Have you decided on her?’

‘I don’t know what you mean,’ Hope said with an air of innocence.

‘Oh, yes, you do,’ Evie chuckled. ‘You pick out a daughter-in-law and pull strings until you get her.’

‘I merely like to ensure the best for my sons,’ Hope said.

‘And you’ve decided on Polly. Go on, admit it.’

‘She might be the making of him,’ Hope agreed. ‘But we have to go carefully.’

‘Yes, her fiancé might get in the way a little.’

‘I don’t think so,’ Hope mused. ‘No, I really don’t think so at all.’

They flew back to Italy the next day. Polly spent the last half hour looking out of the plane window, trying to understand the sudden nervousness that had come over her.

Ruggiero was in her thoughts all the time, but he’d been at a safe distance. Now she would be with him again, and the awareness that had come to her so suddenly, two nights ago, was disturbing her. She wasn’t sure what to think, but she’d know when she saw him.

It was just fancy, she tried to reassure herself. I’m a severely practical person. This sort of thing just doesn’t happen to me, because I don’t let it. I wonder if he’ll be at the airport?

He was. He and Toni stood there, waiting as they came out of Customs, Hope carrying the child, and Polly saw Toni’s face light up with joy. Then he was running forward, arms outstretched, to embrace his wife and grandson together.

Ruggiero’s face remained blank. Nor did he move as Toni and Polly greeted each other pleasantly.

‘All this has thrown him for six,’ Toni muttered in her ear. ‘Since my wife called he hasn’t known what to do with himself.’

That could be taken both ways, she thought. It didn’t tell her about Ruggiero’s true feelings. But then she saw him smiling at her with a hint of relief, as though he’d just been hanging on until she came back. And, despite her efforts to stop it, a spring of pleasure welled up inside her.

They had come in two cars, to ensure enough room for everyone on the return journey.

‘You and the baby go with Poppa,’ Ruggiero told his mother. ‘I’ll take Polly.’

The little surge of happiness was there again, irrational and reprehensible, but too strong to be fought. He opened the door for her and made sure she was comfortable before going around to the driver’s side. She looked at him, smiling. She couldn’t help herself. Something told her that his next words would be momentous.

As Toni’s car pulled away Ruggiero turned to her.

‘Let them go for the moment,’ he said. ‘There is something I must say to you first.’

‘Yes?’

‘You did bring them, didn’t you?’

‘What?’

‘The pictures. You promised faithfully to bring me pictures of Sapphire. Please, Polly, don’t tell me you forgot. You don’t know how important it is.’

So this was all he wanted-why he’d lit up at the sight of her. The depth of her bitterness warned her how far she’d strayed into danger.

‘Please, Polly,’ he repeated.

‘It’s all right. I’ve brought the pictures.’

With sudden resolution, as though he’d been given a reviving draught of life, he started the car and swung out of the airport.

Well, what did you think was going to happen? Polly thought scathingly. That he was going to forget her and see you? Get real!

On the way home she said, ‘Have you been sensible while I was away?’

‘No riding. I swear it.’

‘Short of that.’

‘I dropped in at work for an hour, but I behaved very feebly, and came home early. You’d have been proud of me.’

‘How about the pills?’

‘Just a couple at night. I’m on the mend.’

When they reached the villa Primo and Olympia were there. Apart from Carlo and Della, away on their honeymoon, they were the only Rinuccis who lived in Naples, so their arrival represented the rest of the family.

At first Polly stayed where Matthew could always see her, lest he grow alarmed. But he was easy in company-a natural charmer, who relished the attention.

Everyone was delighted when Ruggiero dropped down on one knee to look his son in the eye, and received a steady stare in return.

‘Buongiorno,’ Ruggiero said politely.

‘Bon-bon-’ he tried to repeat.

Ruggiero repeated the word and the tot responded by yelling, ‘Bon, bon, bon!’ in tones of delight.

Everyone laughed and clapped.

‘His first Italian word,’ Hope cried. ‘Why don’t you sit down and hold him?’

He sat on the sofa, and she helped little Matthew to get up beside him. He peered closely at this new giant, and finally became curious enough to try to climb onto his lap.

‘Better not,’ Ruggiero said quickly. ‘I’m still a bit sore, and I’d be afraid of dropping him.’

It was an entirely reasonable excuse. Surely Polly only imagined that he’d seized the first chance to back off?

He behaved impeccably, regarding the child with apparent interest, smiling in the right places, watching as he was bathed and dressed in the sleepsuit that Polly had brought with her, then put to bed. It was agreed, for the moment, that he should sleep in Polly’s room, in a crib that one of the maids had rescued from the attic.

‘I suppose you’re going to say that was mine?’ Ruggiero asked with resigned good humour.

‘No, this was Carlo’s,’ Hope declared triumphantly. ‘You managed to set fire to yours.’

Everyone laughed, including Ruggiero, but it seemed to Polly that he was doing everything from a distance, trying not to reveal that this first meeting with his son meant nothing to him.

When Matthew had fallen asleep, Ruggiero said unexpectedly, ‘Could you all give us a moment, please?’

Everyone smiled at this sign of fatherly interest, but when the door had closed behind them he said urgently to Polly, ‘The photos? Can I have them now?’

‘Of course. I unpacked them ready for you.’

She took the two albums from a drawer and handed them to him.

‘Thanks,’ he said briefly, and departed without a look at the sleeping child.

That night Polly stayed up late in her room, telling herself that she was watching over the little boy, but secretly knowing that she was watching over his father. Opening her window and looking out, she could see the glow from his window next door. There was to be no rest for him tonight.

She imagined him turning the pages, seeing ‘Sapphire’s’ face over and over, feeling fresh pain with every new vision.

Why had she let herself be taken by surprise? Deny it how he would, Sapphire had been the woman he’d loved so passionately that a few days ago the briefest imagined glimpse of her had driven him to madness, almost claiming his life. Perhaps he would have preferred that, now she was dead. He was, in effect, a widower, but denied a widower’s freedom to mourn openly-denied even the memories of a shared love that might have made his loss bearable.

Suddenly she remembered that Freda’s wedding pictures were in the second album. In the hurry and agitation it had slipped her mind, but now she wished she’d remembered and removed them. It was too late, but she might have spared him that.

A quick glance showed that Matthew was still sleeping. She went out into the corridor and knocked softly at Ruggiero’s door.

‘Come in.’ The words came softly.

He was sitting on the bed, his hands clasped between his knees, the wedding pictures open beside him.

‘I just came to see if you were all right.’

‘I’m fine-fine.’

She sat on the bed beside him.

‘No, you’re not,’ she said gently. ‘I’ve been watching you all evening, and you’re like a man stretched on a wheel. Your nerves are at breaking point-even your voice sounds different.’

‘Different how?’

‘Tense. Hard. Every five minutes you ask yourself if you can survive the next five minutes, and then the next. You smile at people and try to say the right things, but it’s taking everything out of you.’

‘Am I really as transparent as that?’ he asked, with a brief wry smile.

‘No, I don’t think anyone else has noticed.’

‘Just Nurse Bossy-Boots, keeping an eagle eye on the patient?’

Or a woman with a man whose every word and gesture means something, she thought, and longed to be able to say it aloud.

He sighed and squeezed her hand. ‘No, it’s not just your being a nurse. You see things that nobody else does. Where do you get it from?’

She resisted the impulse to squeeze back, and said, ‘In a way it is part of being a nurse. You watch people so much that you starting noticing odd details. I don’t just mean medical things, but about their lives.’ She gave a little chuckle.

‘What? Tell me.’

‘I got so that when a man brought his wife into the ward I could tell at once how things were between them. I knew which husbands were going to be faithful while their wives were in hospital, and which ones were going to live it up.’

‘How?’

‘Something in the voice. If he called her “darling” every second word I knew he’d be on the phone to a girlfriend before he left the building. The ones who were going to go home and worry didn’t say very much, just looked.’

‘You’ve got us all ticketed, then?’

‘Absolutely,’ she said, trying to ease the mood by making a joke of it. ‘No man can spring a surprise on me. You’re all boringly predictable.’

There was one man she hadn’t told Ruggiero about-a soldier, who’d brought his wife to the ward and had seemed to think he was on parade, talking at the top of his voice and bullying everyone. But afterwards she’d found him sitting in the corridor, staring into space.

‘Boringly predictable’ had been a joke, and far from her real thoughts. It was that desperate soldier who’d given her the clue to Ruggiero.

He interrupted her thoughts by saying suddenly, ‘Does Brian know how you think?’

‘Well, I don’t talk to him that way. A woman should keep her secrets.’

‘From the man she loves?’

‘Especially from the man she loves,’ she said firmly.

‘And he doesn’t suspect?’

‘Not if I can help it.’

‘Keep the poor fool in blissful ignorance, eh? I guess that runs in the family.’

He said the last words so quietly that she didn’t need to respond to them, but their bitterness wasn’t lost on her.

‘What kind of man is Brian?’ he asked suddenly. ‘Does he tend to be faithful, or go the other way?’

‘I’ve hardly had time to judge.’

‘But with you being so preoccupied this last year-you weren’t afraid that he’d stray?’

‘I haven’t been putting his fidelity to the test,’ she said, with perfect truth.

‘Is that because you’re afraid to try, or because he doesn’t have enough spirit to be unfaithful?’

‘You make infidelity sound like a virtue?’ she said, half laughing.

‘Not exactly. But to be as sure of him as you are-he sounds like a suet pudding.’

‘I promise you he’s not a suet pudding. Brian’s lively enough, but he spends long, exhausting days looking after people who need him.’

‘And when you get together you talk about test tubes. That must be thrilling.’

She hadn’t wanted this discussion, but it was useful. Being close to Ruggiero like this affected her so strongly that she was terrified he would sense it, and Brian was a useful shield. So she played along.

‘Anything can be thrilling if you share the same interests,’ she mused.

‘And that’s what you talked about when you saw him yesterday?’

She chuckled. ‘I don’t think we talked much.’

‘But didn’t he try to persuade you to stay with him-in between doing whatever you were doing?’

‘No, of course not.’

‘Of course not? Does he love you or not?’

‘He does, but he knew I had to come back for as long as I’m needed here. He understands about putting duty first.’

‘Another thing you share?’

‘Another thing we share.’

‘You told him that you’re crazy about him but you had to return to this grumpy so-and-so who’ll collapse without you? That and test tubes? How did you tear yourself away from such passion?’

‘Nurse Bossy-Boots never lets down a patient,’ she said primly. ‘And passion can be found in the oddest places.’

She found she was enjoying this conversation too much for safety, and hurried to say, ‘But I don’t think I ought to discuss him any more. He wouldn’t like it.’

Ruggiero threw her a grim look. His nerves were stretched from the two tense days he’d spent waiting for her, wondering if he would ever see her again.

He was a man with no gift for self-analysis. He could dismantle an engine both actually and in his head. He even had some faint understanding of others. But to himself he was an almost total mystery.

In the last two days he’d been miserable, thinking of the pictures that Polly might or might not remember to bring back. He’d focused on that because he understood it, but somewhere along the line it had blurred with the fear that she might not return at all.

Arguments had raged in his head. His strong, reliable Nurse Bossy-Boots was a woman of her word. She wouldn’t let him down because that wasn’t her way. But the ties holding her back were immense-including the man she loved, who might be fed up with waiting and demand to come first in her life.

Perhaps she’d give the pictures to Hope and leave, confident that she’d done her duty?

But she wouldn’t have done it, he told himself firmly. She was the one person he could talk to, and she had no right to desert him.

Hope had called him that morning to say they were returning together. He’d breathed again, but even so he’d been shocked by the explosion of relief that had attacked him when she’d appeared at Naples Airport. It had the perverse effect of making him abrupt, even angry with her. And this, too, he did not understand.