The Mediterranean Rebel’s Bride

CHAPTER SIX

HIS EYES WERE on the photographs. Sapphire. Briefly she’d faded, but now she flamed back into his consciousness, as sharp and poignant as ever. He drew in a sharp breath at the sight of her radiant beauty on the day she’d married another man.

‘They’re lovely pictures, aren’t they?’ Polly said.

She began to turn the pages. Freda had been at her best on that day: her extravagant beauty flaunted in a glamorous satin creation, George’s wedding gift of diamonds on her head, holding in place a veil that stretched to the floor.

There she was with her new husband, looking adoringly into his face because she wanted to be convincing in her role. George had been good for several more diamonds yet.

There she was with her chief bridesmaid, poor cousin Polly, looking horribly out of place in a frilly pink satin dress, her dullness cruelly contrasted with the bride’s lustrous looks.

One picture was a close-up of Freda alone, with a soft, sweet smile and a tender expression that had seldom been there in real life. She’d been an accomplished actress, and for this shot she’d managed to banish the gleam of greedy triumph from her eyes. The woman in that picture was enchanting: soft, generous, giving, yielding; everything that she had not been.

‘I’m sorry,’ she murmured. ‘I shouldn’t have brought the wedding pictures.’

‘Why?’ he asked sharply. ‘Do you think I’m afraid of them?’

‘Perhaps you ought to be. What difference can it make now?’

‘Don’t say that. I can’t rid myself of her just because she’s dead. In some ways I feel I’ve only just met her, and I need to know everything.’

She shook her head, but she didn’t say aloud what she was thinking-that ‘everything’ was precisely what he couldn’t endure knowing. Instead she begged, ‘Let the past be. It’s the future that matters-your future and Matthew’s.’

‘But the future grows out of the past. What do I do if the past is a blank? I need to find out as much as I can, then maybe-I don’t know. Maybe things will be different. If I could see the places where she lived, get some picture of her life in my mind-you could take me back there.’

‘Ruggiero, no.’

‘But you could. We could go to England tomorrow. We don’t have to be away for long-just long enough for me to see where she lived and go around the places she knew-’

She seized his good shoulder, giving him a little shake.

‘It won’t bring her back,’ she said fiercely. ‘Stop this!’

‘I can’t,’ he said in agony.

Looking at him closely, she saw that he was in the grip of a powerful force that was devouring him. His eyes were full of a terrifying obsession. His hot breath brushing her face might have come from the fires of hell.

‘Stop it!’ she said. ‘Stop it!’

‘How?’ he asked bleakly. ‘Help me, Polly. You’re the only friend who can. Nobody else knows-I can’t tell anyone-how could I?’

It was true. Hope knew roughly what had happened, but not how deep his pain went. Because he loved his mother he would conceal the worst from her, but it left him with nobody to turn to except Polly.

‘All the time you were away,’ he went on, ‘I kept hoping for a miracle. Somehow I’d get things into perspective and see her clearly-that’s what I thought. And when you brought the baby back, I know I was supposed to take one look at him and be overcome with fatherly love.’

‘No, that’s only in sentimental films,’ she said. ‘I think what really happened is that you looked at him and thought, Oh, my God!’

‘O, mio dio!’ he agreed. ‘Call me a monster if you like, but I feel nothing for my son. Nothing.’

‘You’re not a monster at all. When you look at him I dare say you don’t actually see him, because there’s a brick wall built between you, and you can’t get past it.’

‘Except that she’s there too-both of her.’

‘Both?’

‘The beautiful girl who loved me and transformed my life, and the manipulator who took what she wanted and left me in a desert, without a backward glance. I don’t know which one of them is real, and until I know more nothing is ever going to be real.’

‘Maybe the reality is a bit of both,’ she said, trying to soften it for him.

‘Or maybe I’m simply telling myself pretty fairy tales-seeing only what I want to see, blocking my ears to anything that doesn’t fit in with my picture: a weak, foolish man who can’t bear to face unpleasant facts?’

‘Stop being so hard on yourself,’ she said fiercely. ‘You haven’t recovered from the shock yet.’

‘I thought I might find some sort of answer in the child’s face, but it seems to change all the time. Sometimes her, sometimes me-’

‘And sometimes he’s just himself, which is how it should be. That poor little boy, carrying the burden of so many expectations.’

‘Do you think I don’t know that? They’re all looking at him to see if he’s a true Rinucci-just as they’re watching me to see if I’m feeling the right things. So I do what I have to-kneel down, speak to him-so that they don’t think how heartless I am. Nobody must guess the truth except you. Without you to hold onto I think I’d go mad.’

She should be sensible and run away now. She’d already had a warning of the perilous path she was treading. But she didn’t want to be sensible. She wanted to take the burden from him, even if it led her further down that path and cost her dear.

Polly put her arms around him, letting her forehead rest against his.

‘And you can hold onto me. I’ll help all I can, but not by creating a dream world for you.’

‘I don’t want that,’ he said softly. ‘I want to know what she was like in the real world, and only you can tell me.’

‘And will telling you help?’ she asked. ‘Maybe talking about her will only make it worse?’

His eyes burned with his obsession, warning her of the dangerous direction his mind was taking.

‘But it might keep her with me,’ he whispered feverishly. ‘I’m not ready to let go yet.’

‘Even of her ghost?’

‘If that’s all I can have.’

‘Haven’t you had enough of ghosts?’ she asked passionately. ‘She’s haunted you for over two years, and she nearly killed you. Don’t you realise that?’

‘Or you did,’ he said wryly.

‘No, it wasn’t me who sent you spinning off the track into what might have been your grave.’

Something in her brain seemed to snap, and for a moment she went mad, her mind following his down the road to destruction.

‘That was her,’ she said passionately. ‘Because she’s jealous and possessive and she can’t bear to let you go, even though she doesn’t want you. That’s how she was. If she couldn’t have something, she hated anyone else to have it. Her life was taken, so now she-’

Appalled, she checked herself.

‘What am I saying?’ she choked. ‘I’m talking about her as though-almost as if-’

‘That’s what she’s doing to my head, too,’ he told her. ‘Now do you understand that there’s no escape?’

‘There is if you fight it.’

‘And if I don’t want to fight it? Do you know what happened to me that day at the track? When I saw her standing there in front of me I was glad. I knew she was beckoning me to disaster but I didn’t care. I was so full of joy at seeing her after so long. I think I called out to her-’

‘Yes,’ she said, remembering how he’d lain in her arms afterwards and murmured Sapphire’s name.

‘I was chasing her across a great distance, but she always evaded me, and then she was gone.’

‘And you think if I take you back to her old haunts you’ll find her? You won’t. That’s not where the truth lies.’

‘But I have to believe that it’s somewhere to be found otherwise I’ll go mad.’

‘Can’t it be enough that she was beautiful?’ Polly begged. ‘That you had a perfect time together and she left you a son?’

‘A chimera,’ he murmured. ‘Nothing more.’

‘That little boy wasn’t born from a chimera. He’s real, and he’s all that’s left of her. Ruggiero, please, please try to understand. You can’t bring her back.’

He seemed to relax against her, and for a moment she thought she’d got through to him. Moving slowly, she reached out to the wedding album and drew it towards her.

‘Let me take this,’ she said. ‘Don’t brood over it.’

But his hand clamped over hers. ‘Leave it.’

‘Ruggiero-’

‘I said leave it.’

Before he could reply she heard the shrill of her cellphone from her room.

‘I must answer that before it wakes him up,’ she said, and hurried out without closing Ruggiero’s door.

From the next room he heard her say,

I called you earlier today, but there was no answer so I assumed you’d gone to the hospital.’

Then he closed his door, resisting the temptation to eavesdrop further.

In her room, Polly moved well away from the cot and spoke softly into the phone.

‘Iris, I’m so glad your daughter’s all right. I’m sure she’ll be home from the hospital soon. And thank you for everything.’

She hung up and returned to Ruggiero.

‘Can I come in again?’ she asked through the closed door.

‘No,’ came his voice. ‘I won’t disturb you any longer. Goodnight, Polly.’

‘Goodnight.’

There was nothing to do but turn away, wondering about the opportunity that had been lost.

The next day Ruggiero announced that he was well enough to go work.

‘Is he?’ Hope immediately asked Polly.

‘Yes, he is,’ Ruggiero declared firmly.

‘Yes, he is,’ Polly said, speaking like a robot. Then she laughed and said, ‘You heard him. I’ve been told what to say.’

‘The idea of you taking orders!’ Hope scoffed, giving her an admiring look.

‘He’ll be all right if he’s careful,’ Polly said.

‘Then we’re going shopping,’ Hope said gleefully. ‘I want to celebrate my new grandson.’

‘By stripping the shops bare?’ Toni enquired with wry amusement.

‘Can you think of a better way of celebrating?’

She, Toni and Polly set off, accompanied by Matteo, as he had now become. Hope was in her element, spending money on toddler clothes, toddler toys, toddler food, turning to Polly for advice and sometimes actually taking it.

‘You’re not offended with me?’ she asked Polly anxiously. ‘I know you’ve always given him the best you could afford-’

‘I’m not offended. He was growing out of most of his stuff anyway, and who wants to pass up the chance of a shopping trip?’

Cheered by this sign of Polly’s good sense, Hope swept her into a dress shop and bought her the basis of a new wardrobe-‘So that I can be really sure you’re not offended.’

‘But I’m not-’

‘Then accept these few things, with my thanks.’

‘Don’t argue,’ Toni begged. ‘Let her have her own way, please!’

‘All right,’ Polly said, understanding him correctly. ‘For your sake.’

They all laughed.

The family was gathering, all eager to inspect the newest Rinucci. Later that day Luke and Minnie arrived from Rome, while Primo and Olympia made a second visit. Once more Matteo was in his element, holding court. In a very short time Matteo became Matti.

Ruggiero arrived to find Olympia holding the child up high while they giggled together. He behaved delightfully, kissing his sisters-in-law, joshing his brothers, and later joining in the family amusement at the sight of his father with his grandson on his lap, an adoring slave.

It was a charming scene, but again Polly knew that he was using it as a screen to hide how little he felt for his son. Once she would have blamed him, but now she understood more clearly. Freda’s rejection had wounded him as much as her death, perhaps more, and for now the child was merely a reminder of that.

When it was Matti’s bedtime Hope came to Polly’s room and assisted. When he was in his cot, she leaned down and kissed him.

‘Buona notte,’ she murmured.

Seeing Ruggiero in the doorway, she beckoned him forward.

‘Kiss him goodnight,’ she urged.

‘Better not disturb him now he’s sleeping,’ he said. ‘I think I’ll go to bed now, Mamma. Goodnight.’

Polly spent the next day at the villa with Hope and Toni, enjoying the sight of their rapport with Matti. Hope had noticed that Ruggiero wasn’t at ease with the child, but it didn’t trouble her greatly.

‘It will take a little time for him to relax about this,’ she said cheerfully. ‘But that’s all right. I’m not in a hurry to see him vanish back to his apartment.’

‘Apartment?’ Polly asked, startled. ‘I thought he lived here.’

‘He does some of the time, but he has his own place in Naples too. All our sons have homes away from us, but they keep their rooms in the villa.’

‘But how will he manage on his own with a child?’ Polly wondered.

‘He can’t. Matti will stay with us at first, and live with Ruggiero later, when he’s grown up enough to do things for himself.’ She added in an under-voice, ‘And when my son has grown up enough to be a father.’

‘That’s not fair,’ Polly said at once. ‘It’s less than a week since he knew she was dead, and he’s grieving for her.’

‘A woman who treated him like that? Polly, have you told him everything yet?’

‘No, he’s not ready. He has suspicions, but nothing he can’t shake off. How can I give him a clear picture of my cousin without also destroying Matti’s mother in Ruggiero’s eyes?’

They were both silent. Then Hope patted her hand.

‘You will find a way. You are a wise woman, and you have all my trust.’

‘And mine,’ said Toni, who didn’t always allow his wife to speak for him.’

The evening meal was early, with Matti sitting on Toni’s lap like a little grandee, lording it over his court. There was no sign of Ruggiero, but as they were all climbing the stairs to put Matti to bed the phone rang. Toni went to answer it, and joined them a few minutes later, saying, ‘Ruggiero won’t be back tonight. After the time he’s had off he says he must work late, so he’ll go to his apartment.’

He didn’t return the next day, or the one after. Polly became more troubled, haunted by the things he’d said to her the night before he’d left, the glimpse she’d had of a tortured mind. She longed to talk to him again-see into his thoughts, help to rid him of his obsession.

Or maybe I just want him to forget her and think of me, she thought with wry realism. Who am I kidding? Not myself, that’s for sure. Freda would be the first person to tell me what I’m really hoping for.

And she did.

That night her cousin came to her, dancing out of the misty darkness.

‘Freda? What are you doing here?’

The vision laughed, swirling her glorious hair so that it was like a halo. She was in a long, floaty dress that swirled about her, and all her beauty had returned.

‘I’m not Freda any more,’ she teased. ‘Freda’s dead.’

‘You’re dead.’

‘No, I’m Sapphire now. Because that’s how he thinks of me, and you’ve started to see me through his eyes.’

‘Go away,’ Polly cried.

‘You’d like that, wouldn’t you? You want to make him forget me so that you can have him for yourself. But you never will. He’s still mine. He loves me, and there’s nothing you can do about it-nothing-nothing-nothing-’

She was gone.

Suddenly the darkness vanished, dawn light filled the room, and Polly awoke with a shudder to find herself sitting up in bed.

‘It was a dream,’ she gasped. ‘Only a dream.’

She went to the bathroom to splash water on her eyes. The face in the mirror was so superficially like Sapphire’s, yet so cruelly different.

‘She’s dead,’ she told the image firmly. ‘She’s gone for good.’

‘But I haven’t,’ Sapphire whispered in her mind. ‘I’m not dead to him. Why do you think he’s vanished? He wants to be alone with me.’

Suddenly the fear was hard and real, driving Polly out into the corridor and into Ruggiero’s empty room.

A thorough search confirmed her worst suspicions. The photo albums were missing.

The Palazzo Montelio overlooked the Naples docks. Despite its name it wasn’t a palace, but a grandiose edifice, built by a self-important merchant who’d wanted a place where he could keep a constant eye on the boats that provided his wealth. For two centuries his fortunes had flourished, but then declined, so that the building had had to be sold and turned into apartments.

As she made her way slowly up the wide stairs to the second floor Polly wondered again if she was wise to come here. But perhaps it had been inevitable since the moment Hope had called Ruggiero’s firm and discovered that was not there.

‘Not for the last two days,’ she said, looking significantly at Polly. She scribbled something on a scrap of paper. ‘That’s where he lives.’

So now here she was, about to beard the lion in his lair, ready to face his fury at her temerity in hounding him.

But all he said when he opened the door was, ‘What took you so long?’

She’d half expected to discover that he’d been drowning his sorrows, but his voice was sober and his movements steady.

The apartment was an odd mixture of faded grandeur and modernity, with old-fashioned comfortable furniture and a gleaming kitchen. She managed to look around cautiously while he made some English tea, which was unexpectedly good.

Now that she could observe him better, her first favourable impression was changing. If he hadn’t been drinking, neither had he been eating or shaving. His dark hair meant that several days’ stubble stood out starkly, making his lean face almost cadaverous. Nor had he slept much, if his eyes told a true story.

He looked as if he’d dressed in the first thing he’d been able to find to throw on-old jeans, old shirt, mostly unbuttoned so that she could see the rough, curly hair beneath.

‘You knew I was coming?’ she said.

‘I’d have bet money on it.’

‘Well, you’re still my patient. I needn’t ask how you’ve managed. I can see that you’ve been taking proper care of yourself, eating well, getting enough rest, behaving sensibly. I can’t think why I bothered.’

That made him laugh, and he winced, holding his side.

‘It hurts more than it did,’ he admitted.

‘And it’ll go on hurting for a while. I’ve brought you some more pills. These won’t send you to sleep like the last ones.’

‘Thanks. I’ve been trying some that I bought in a shop, but-’ He shrugged, then stopped quickly and rubbed his shoulder.

‘Here,’ she said, producing the pills. ‘Take a couple now, and we’ll think about something to eat.’

‘I don’t have much in the place.’

‘Then we’ll have to go out. My treat.’

‘No, I can’t let-’

‘I didn’t ask you to let me. I just said that’s what I’m going to do.’

‘Yes, ma’am.’ He gave a brief snort of laughter. ‘You don’t know how good it feels to have you bullying me again.’ He added abstractedly, ‘Maybe my father was right.’

‘About what?’

He’d recalled Toni’s words about how Hope anticipated his needs and fulfilled them before he was even aware. The outside world might dismiss it as domination, but Toni had spoken like a man with a happy secret. Ruggiero was about to tell Polly, but backed off, realising that this would lead him into unknown paths where perhaps he couldn’t rely on her hand to steady him.

What he did know, beyond doubt, was that if she hadn’t arrived when she did he would have sought her out.

‘Never mind,’ he said hastily. ‘Poppa says a lot of strange things.’

‘Then you’re not his son for nothing,’ she mused.

She spoke lightly, but the sight of him worried her. How long was it since he’d last eaten? She decided to get some food into him fast.

The light was fading as they left the building. Lamps were coming on in the little restaurants along the seafront, and on the boats that came and went in the harbour.

‘They’re mostly ferries,’ he explained, ‘linking us with Capri, Ischia and several other islands.’

‘That place looks nice,’ she said, pointing at a tiny café near the water. A board over the door announced Pesci Di Napoli.

‘Fish from Naples,’ she announced triumphantly. ‘You see, I’ve actually learned some Italian words. Let’s go.’

‘Not there,’ he said quickly.

‘Why? Is there something wrong with it? Is the fish rancid?’

‘Of course not. But there are better places-’

‘Ruggiero, mi amico!’

The bawling, friendly voice stopped them as he was about to hurry her away, and made him turn reluctantly.

‘Leo,’ he said.

The man standing in the doorway of Pesci Di Napoli beamed and shook his hand so vigorously that Ruggiero winced.

‘Leo, this is Signorina Hanson, and she only speaks English.’

‘Welcome, signorina. Ruggiero, it’s too long since we saw you. Come in and have something to eat. We’ve got fresh clams today, and I know how much you like them.’

There was no escape. Ruggiero smiled and ushered Polly in.

‘You know this place well?’ she asked, looking at him curiously.

‘He owns part of it,’ Leo said. ‘The profits he makes here he throws away on motorbikes, so that he can have the fun of half killing himself. One day he’ll complete the job and we’ll all have a good laugh.’

Ruggiero grinned at his friend’s jeering irony. The atmosphere was warm and jovial.

And yet he’d tried to steer her away.

Leo led them to a table by the window.

‘Spaghetti with clams to start with,’ Ruggiero said, ‘since that’s what Leo’s decided. And afterwards-’

He explained the menu to her and they decided on lasagna napolitana and coffee. Leo tried to interest them in wine, but she shook her head.

‘No alcohol,’ she said. ‘Not with those pills.’

‘I know. You told me days ago.’

When Leo had departed Ruggiero asked, ‘Did you rush down here to see if I was drinking myself to death? You needn’t have. I’ve stuck to tea, believe it or not.’

‘I do believe it,’ she said lightly. ‘I know that among your many virtues the greatest is self-control.’

‘Are you making fun of me?’ he demanded suspiciously.

‘Why should you think so?’

‘My “many virtues”! You wouldn’t say that except ironically.’

She was silent, wondering how far it was wise to push him.

‘Don’t you have many virtues?’ she ventured at last.

‘Probably not many that you’d call virtues.’

‘Perhaps they cease to be virtues when you carry them to extremes?’

‘Such as?’

‘Self-control is fine, except when you turn it into an iron cage,’ she ventured.

‘And you think that’s what I do?’

‘Yes, because you told me yourself. When we first talked about Sapphire you said that what was in here-’ she laid a hand over her heart ‘-was just for you, because it was safer for a man to keep himself to himself.’

He nodded. ‘And she lured me out,’ he said in a wondering voice. ‘That was one reason that I loved her.’ He gave a half smile and tried the word again. ‘Love. I wouldn’t say it because it made losing her so much worse, but with her I talked about things I’d never spoken of before.’

‘He never shut up,’ said Sapphire grumpily in her head, ‘just because I once said, Tell me all about yourself. I mean, it’s only a come-on. I always said it to flatter men. But he took it literally.’

‘Then that was something she gave you,’ Polly said gently. ‘You’re better for knowing her. And you’ll always have it-unless you slip back to being grim and taciturn.’

‘Which I was doing,’ he mused. ‘Until you took me by the scruff of the neck and yanked me back.’

Averting her head slightly, she made a face. Sapphire enticed. Polly yanked by the scruff of the neck. There it was-the truth about them. But at least it would stop her getting sentimental and foolish.

‘Why are you laughing?’ he asked.

‘Never mind. You wouldn’t see the joke. Besides, it’s not really funny. Ah, here’s Leo with our food.’

She changed the subject, chatting about his parents, and how Matti was ruling the roost, but speaking in a casual way that put no pressure on him.

‘He’s made himself at home, then?’ Ruggiero asked. ‘Put his feet up, so to speak, and now he’s monarch of all he surveys?’

‘That’s exactly right-especially with your father. He’s Toni’s special pet.’

A strange look came over Ruggiero’s face.

‘Ah, yes,’ he murmured. ‘At last he’s got a grandchild.’

‘At last? He already has plenty of them by your brothers, doesn’t he?’

‘No, they’re my mother’s grandchildren, not his. Primo was her stepson in her first marriage, Luke was adopted, Justin and Francesco are hers, but not Poppa’s. Of course they’re all family, and Toni loves them because he has a great heart, but only Carlo and I are his actual sons. Carlo’s wife is too frail to risk children, so that just leaves me.’

Suddenly Ruggiero sat back in his chair, transfixed.

‘No wonder that little kid has taken Poppa by storm. Why didn’t I see it before?’

There were a thousand answers, but the one that warmed Polly’s heart was that out of the turmoil of feeling that had invaded Ruggiero in the last few days had come a new and generous understanding of his father.

‘I’ll give you another reason,’ she said, smiling. ‘Matti looks like him. We’ve all been staring into that little face, trying to decide whether he resembles you or his mother, but actually it’s Toni.’

‘You’re right! I should have noticed that.’

‘Maybe you need to stand back a bit to see things clearly?’ she said, giving the words two meanings.

He nodded. ‘Maybe.’

‘Eat your food before it gets cold.’

‘Yes, Nurse.’