The Mediterranean Rebel’s Bride

CHAPTER EIGHT

WHEN Ruggiero had gone Polly dozed fitfully, unable to sleep properly. Even Sapphire didn’t manage to storm her way in. She tried, but now something was excluding her.

Polly awoke in the morning, wondering if she’d imagined the night before. But her hand could still feel where he’d gripped it in his as he declared his faith in her, and his need. He’d left immediately after that.

Just a handclasp, but it had left her burningly aware of every detail about him. The things she’d been trying not to think of-the strong, hard feel of him, the warmth of his body when it had lain against hers, all the things a good nurse was supposed to ignore-had all come surging back to her.

I’m not going to let this happen, she tried to tell herself. I’m not.

But it had already happened. It was too late to deceive herself about that. Last night she’d given in to weakness, allowing her tenderness to flare briefly into passion. If he’d responded she would have done all in her power to make him want her, to make love with him.

But he hadn’t responded. He hadn’t even been aware of the change in her. She tried to be glad about that, but against her will her flesh was reacting to her memories, growing hot, the skin beginning to tingle with need.

But the need wasn’t just physical. His heart craved the help that only she could give, and it was her nature to be strong, reaching out to those who were vulnerable. If she’d met Ruggiero at any other time, when his macho mask was securely in place, she might not have seen behind it, and then she would never have been drawn to him.

Now he would always appear to her as she’d seen him first-stunned, troubled, cast adrift by events over which he had no control.

And if Sapphire had really been banished, mightn’t there be a vacancy?

Get real! she lectured herself. This hasn’t turned you into a beauty, so don’t think it.

But her inner voice lacked conviction, and she hummed to herself in the shower.

She found Ruggiero in the kitchen.

‘Come and have some breakfast,’ he called, in a voice that was firm and cheerful.

‘Fine, I could do with some,’ she said, matching his tone. ‘Can I help?’

‘No, just sit at that table and I’ll serve you.’

He watched as she went to the table and looked out at the bright harbour, already busy in the morning sun. He was watching for any sign of consciousness on her part, but there was nothing in her voice or her demeanour.

It had been his imagination. He’d lain in her arms, amazed at the sense of peaceful joy that had stolen over him, taking the consolation she’d offered.

But how much had she offered? Had he only imagined the way her hands caressed him, her kiss against his hair? Recently he’d been so plagued by hallucinations that he dreaded to discover this was only another. He’d held still, waiting for her to do or say something that would tell him what to think.

But she’d only said, ‘Don’t be so hard on yourself.’ Kind words, but those of a friend, not a lover.

He’d pulled himself together, swallowing something that felt strangely like disappointment. Now he had to do it again.

‘How are you feeling after that disturbed night?’ he asked, sitting opposite her at the table.

‘A bit confused.’

‘That’s my fault. I’ve been giving you a hard time. But no longer. We got everything sorted out, didn’t we?’

‘I suppose so.’

She spoke cautiously, and he smiled, assuming a firm, efficient voice.

‘Don’t worry. I’ve got things in perspective. I don’t know what took me so long.’

A faint uneasiness began to stir in Polly’s brain. This clear-sightedness was surely what she’d wanted, and yet-

Misunderstanding her worried look, he said, ‘It’s all right, Polly. It’s all over. She’s gone. After all, she never actually existed, did she?’

Irrationally she wanted to say, She existed in your heart, but she was lost for words. She should be glad of his recovery. Instead she felt a creeping dismay that made no sense.

‘Freda existed. Sapphire didn’t,’ she agreed.

‘She was an invention-a role she’d decided to play. But then the curtain came down, the heroine vanished, and the idiot was left alone on the stage, not realising that the performance was over.’

‘Don’t call yourself names,’ she said firmly.

‘You’re right, it’s boring.’

‘That wasn’t-’

‘Did I try your patience very hard?’

She shook her head. ‘You had something beautiful and I was taking it away. I don’t blame you for wanting to hold onto it.’

‘Except that it wasn’t beautiful,’ he said with a shrug. ‘It was stupid and dishonest, and it made me weak. I won’t let that happen again.’

The way he emphasised ‘that’ increased her unease.

‘There’s nothing wrong with a little weakness if it means needing people,’ she said. ‘Trying to be self-sufficient all the time just leads to trouble.’

‘You said something like that to me the first time we met,’ he remembered wryly. ‘In fact you’ve always had a pretty poor opinion of me. And you were right. I finally stood outside and got a good look at myself. Mio Dio! What a sight! But no more. I’ve got a job to do, and with your help I’m going to do it.’

‘A job?’

‘I have to learn to be a father to my son.’

The words should have made her rejoice, but she was struck by the cool efficiency of his manner-as though he were ticking off tasks on a worksheet. His love, once so sweet to him, had been revealed as a con-trick-to be dismissed along with the side of his nature that was capable of those feelings. Now his relationship with his son was the next assignment on the list.

She shivered.

‘I’d better start with some toys, hadn’t I?’ he said. ‘What does he like?’

‘Cuddly things. I don’t know what Italian shops sell.’

‘Fine, we’ll go shopping. That means a taxi. What a pity my car’s still at the villa.’

‘Makes no difference. I wouldn’t let you drive it.’

‘Wouldn’t let me-?’

‘Nope. And wipe that outraged look off your face, because it’s wasted on me. You’ve fallen into the hands of a real bully now.’

‘I think I’d already guessed that. All right, a taxi it is.’

In the city centre they found a large toy shop and explored it from top to bottom. Polly’s mood soared. The day was bright, the sun high in the sky, and his manner was engaging. Surely she was worrying about nothing?

‘Why are you looking at me?’ he asked once. ‘Wait-let me guess. It’s the first time I haven’t been scowling at you.’

‘I ignore scowls. It’s just the first time I’ve seen you looking cheerful,’ she teased.

He grinned and put an arm around her shoulder, moving carefully for he was still sore.

‘Let’s spend some money,’ he said.

This wasn’t what she wanted from him, but it was a start. And spending money proved to be as enjoyable as she’d always heard it was.

The toys were dazzling. And an array of magnificent teddy bears rose high on the shelves, making Polly sigh with longing.

‘They’re so beautifully made it seems almost criminal to give them to a child who’ll pull them about,’ she mourned.

She selected a fluffy bear with golden fur, about a foot high with large, mournful eyes.

Ruggiero plunged into the important business of explaining his needs to an assistant. Polly couldn’t follow the words but she gathered he was doing everything methodically, giving precise specifications-just as if he were ordering spare parts for the factory, she thought.

But he was doing his best, and she appreciated that.

When she saw the collection he’d amassed she stared.

‘They’re for children developing hand-eye co-ordination,’ he explained. ‘He can pull this one along behind him, and he also has to fit the shapes into the right holes. With this one he presses buttons with animal pictures, and it makes noises.’

‘What kind of noises?’

‘Animal noises. Moo and cluck.’

To demonstrate he pressed the cow button and the cow mooed.

‘Let me try,’ she said, entranced, pressing the chicken button.

A horse neighed.

‘That’s not right,’ she said. ‘That should be a chicken.’

Ruggiero experimented and the same thing happened. He tried the horse button, and a duck quacked. An assistant bustled over, looking concerned.

‘Houston, we have a problem!’ Polly intoned.

Commotion followed. The staff took out toy after toy, pressing buttons to see if they made the right noises-which they didn’t. The shop was filled with the sounds of a barnyard. Passers by stopped and stared in.

The manager was called. He too pressed buttons, without receiving the right sounds in return.

‘It’s a new consignment,’ he wailed. ‘They must all be faulty.’

‘Do you have anything of the same kind?’ Polly asked.

Luckily a similar toy had just come in, based on wild animals, which turned out to be properly connected. Lions roared like lions, elephants trumpeted like elephants, baboons gibbered. Everyone was happy, if slightly hysterical.

‘We’ll take this one,’ Ruggiero said with relief. ‘And these.’ He indicated all the other toys that he’d collected.

‘Aren’t some of them a bit complicated for a toddler?’ Polly asked.

‘Maybe not. Maybe he’s brighter than we all think.’

‘Of course he’d bound to be a genius with such a father,’ she said caustically, and he smiled.

He then tried to carry them all out of the shop-which was mistake since neither his ribs nor his shoulder were ready.

‘We need to call a taxi from the nearest firm,’ she said.

‘Nonsense. I’ll be all right in a minute. We just have to pick one up outside.’

Polly didn’t waste time answering this. Instead she turned to an assistant and tried to request him to telephone for a taxi. After some confusion he understood.

‘Why didn’t you help?’ she asked Ruggiero.

‘Because I was having too much fun watching you.’ He added provocatively, ‘You must allow me a few innocent pleasures.’

‘I’ve just remembered I forgot to bring your pills with me,’ she observed casually.

His horrified stare was very satisfying. He wasn’t the only one who enjoyed innocent pleasures.

When the taxi drew up at the villa Hope came flying out, eager to see them, but even more eager to tell her news.

‘Carlo and Della are here,’ she said, bursting with excitement. ‘Della was a little tired, so they came home early.’

Polly recognised Carlo from his picture in the paper. He was a big man with gentle manners that charmed her. He shook Polly’s hand warmly.

‘I’ve wanted to meet you ever since I heard what you did for this one,’ he said, inclining his head to his twin. ‘Not that I can see why anyone should bother to save his miserable life-’

‘Get lost,’ Ruggiero said amiably.

‘I didn’t save his life,’ Polly hastened to disclaim.

‘The way I heard it you tore onto the track and bore him off to safety. Anyway, I’m grateful. I’ve kind of got used to having him around, and he has his uses.’

Ruggiero grinned, evidently accepting this manner of talking as normal. Carlo brought forward his wife, his arm protectively about her. She was an elegant woman, with such a slight build that she almost seemed to vanish against him. It was clear that she was several years older than her husband, and her frailty showed in her face, but her eyes were bright and sparkling with life, and she hugged Polly with delight.

‘As soon as I heard about you and Matti I made Carlo bring me home,’ she said. ‘We don’t often have a sensation like this.’

‘Careful, cara,’ Carlo said, still with his arm around her.

‘I’m all right-stop fussing,’ she chided him in an under-voice, but she smiled as she spoke, and he didn’t remove his arm.

It was pleasant to watch this pair of lovers. The bond between them was shining, complete, and Carlo’s care of his wife seemed to bring him a quiet joy that Polly found moving. Glancing at Ruggiero, she found that his eyes, too, were fixed on them, and there was a sadness in his face that was at variance with his earlier cheerful demeanour.

Then, as if his mind was wide open to her, she saw that he thought this was how it might have been between himself and Sapphire if she’d reached out to him in her illness. Instead she’d waited until she was dead before letting him know, so that she didn’t have to be bothered with him. Put like that it was cruel, brutal. But it was the truth, and her heart ached for what it did to him.

Then he caught her eye, and the grin was swiftly back in place.

‘A great couple, my brother and his wife,’ he said. ‘You’ll like them.’

But just as she could read his mind, he could read hers, and he hastened to say, ‘It’s all right. I told you-it’s in the past. Where’s my son?’

Toni was there with Matti in his arms, pointing to Ruggiero and saying, ‘Poppa.’ He came to stand a few inches away from Ruggiero, and stood surveying his son, while his son surveyed his own son cautiously. Matti regarded them both with aplomb.

Finally he delivered his opinion, turning and putting an arm about his grandfather’s neck, and closing his eyes.

‘Now I know where I stand,’ Ruggiero said comically. ‘My son is bored by me.’

‘Try a toy,’ Polly suggested, and nudged Matti with the teddy until he opened his eyes. ‘Here.’

She put it into his hands. He dropped it on the floor.

‘Careful-it’s so lovely,’ she said, lifting the bear and offering it again.

He tossed it back onto the floor.

‘Let’s see if I do any better,’ Ruggiero said, turning to the bags that contained the toys.

Toni set Matti down on the floor and watched as one toy after another was displayed to him. He immediately chose the trolley, causing Ruggiero to cast a look of triumph at Polly, and began staggering across the floor with it. At the fourth step he sat down and gave a yell of annoyance, then immediately got to his feet again and staggered forward some more. This time he managed five steps before sitting down, and everyone applauded.

‘Un miracolo,’ Toni said in delight. ‘What a child!’

Suddenly there was a glad cry, and someone shouted, ‘Look who’s here.’

The next moment Luke and Minnie came into the room.

Hope ran towards them, arms outstretched. ‘You made it!’ she cried.

‘It’s only a hundred and fifty miles to Rome,’ Luke said. ‘Nothing to a brilliant driver.’

‘So you think you’re a brilliant driver?’ his mother challenged him.

‘No, I meant her,’ Luke said, indicating his wife. ‘She’s a much better driver than I am-as she’d be the first to tell you.’

Next to arrive were Primo and Olympia, eager to join the throng of admirers. Polly gathered her things and prepared to go upstairs, but Hope detained her.

‘Now you’ll wear some of your new clothes,’ she said. ‘You haven’t worn them since I bought them for you.’

‘But that’s because they’re so fine,’ Polly protested. ‘And I’ve been working.’

‘Yes, and jeans and sweater were all right for that, but this is different. Now, please go and put on one of the dresses I bought you-the green one, I think.’

Polly hurried upstairs to put on the dress-which, she had to admit, suited her. Hope had an unerring eye for colour and fashion, and the green silk was quietly elegant in a way that suited Polly’s gentle looks.

She was glad of it when she returned downstairs and saw that she could hold her own with the prosperous, well-dressed Rinuccis. Even so, she was glad to stay in the background, simply keeping a careful eye on Matti, who was centre-stage, charming everyone, especially Carlo and Della, who hadn’t met him before.

A pleasant feeling was beginning to steal over her. This was a family as she had always dreamed of families. With such people there could be no loneliness such as there was in her own life. Matti would be safe and happy with them.

At last they all sat down to eat supper at the big table, and she felt the magic circle enclosing her too. Ruggiero caught her eye across the table, grinned, and embarked on the story of the toyshop. She joined in, making animal noises where necessary, to everyone’s delight. In the exchange of witticisms that followed Ruggiero reminded her that she’d once threatened to knock him into the middle of next week.

At this the whole family roared their laughing approval, and Polly was sure she heard some applause. Hope even grasped her hand, saying, ‘That settles it. You must marry him and keep him in order.’

Perhaps Polly had drunk a little more wine than usual, or she might not have dared to laugh and say, in a teasing voice, ‘I’m not sure I want a man I have to keep in order. It might be boring.’

‘Or it might not,’ Ruggiero murmured over the rim of his glass. ‘Think of the fights we’d have.’

‘Non-stop,’ she agreed. ‘You risking your neck with some tomfool nonsense, me trying to prevent you, you growling, “Stop making a fuss, woman.”’

‘Then you hitting me over the head-’

‘You make it sound irresistible.’

Everyone laughed again, and the joke was allowed to die. But something had changed. Whether by chance or design Hope had mentioned marriage between them, and that word would lodge in everyone’s brain. As, perhaps, she had meant it to.

After supper Polly glanced at the clock. It was Matti’s bedtime, but nobody wanted to let him go and she relented.

He was giving a performance-going through his new toys, dealing with the ‘difficult’ ones with a skill that had Ruggiero grinning as triumphantly as though he’d achieved a personal success-as, in a sense, he had.

Matti was at ease with the shapes, pushing one then another into the right holes to loud applause. Ruggiero was looking pleased with himself, and with his son.

He’s cracked it, Polly thought. It was going to be so difficult, but then suddenly he found the way to get on Matti’s wavelength. Or Matti found the way. Make his father proud of him, that’s the secret, and he got there at once. The others all adore him. He really doesn’t need me now, and soon it’ll be time for me to go.

She felt a pang of dismay, and not only at the thought of leaving Ruggiero. She loved Matti too, but now he was dismissing her as no longer needed. Perhaps he’d inherited that iron-willed trait from his mother? she thought sadly.

In this mood, she was totally unprepared for what happened next.

Matti was playing with the trolley, pushing it back and forth until suddenly it went over onto its side. He made a grab at it, tried to haul it upright, and failed. A little choke of distress burst from him.

‘Never mind,’ Ruggiero said. ‘I’ll do it.’

But Matti didn’t seem to hear him. It was as though the tectonic plates of his world had shifted. A minor hiccup that he’d laughed off hours earlier was now a major disaster. His choke turned into a wail, growing louder and louder until it became a scream that went on and on in pitiful agony.

‘He’s over-tired,’ Polly said. ‘He doesn’t normally stay up this late.’

She had to raise her voice to be heard above the child.

‘Shall I try putting him to bed?’ Ruggiero asked.

But when he reached out Matti fended him off.

‘Mummy!’ he screamed. ‘Mummy!’

‘It’s you he wants,’ Ruggiero said.

‘No, not me,’ Polly said sadly. ‘I’m not his mother. Freda was, and she’s the one he’s crying for.’

She dropped down to one knee, trying to take Matti in her arms, but he lashed out, arms flailing in all directions, until one of them caught her a stinging slap across the face, which made him howl louder.

‘Mummy-Mummy-MUMMEEEE-’

‘Doesn’t it help that he knows you?’ Ruggiero asked desperately. ‘He must be close to you, too.’

‘Yes, but he wants his mother, nobody else.’

By now Matti had lain down on the floor, pounding the hard tiles and shrieking, ‘Mummy! Mu-mmy! MUMMEEEE-’

Polly raised him, going to the sofa and sitting down with him on her lap. She was ready to dodge another blow, but there was none this time, and the little boy simply collapsed against her, sobbing in helpless despair.

Polly rocked back and forth, shattered by the suddenness of his collapse, and frightened by what she felt happening deep inside herself. The child’s grief seemed to reach into her, awakening her own, tearing her apart. At last something broke in her, and she too began to weep. She tried to keep control, but the tears streamed down her face, mingling with Matti’s tears.

‘I’m sorry, darling,’ she choked. ‘I’m so sorry. I know I’m not the one you want. I know-I know-’

‘Mummy,’ he wailed softly, his face buried against her.

‘I wish I could have kept her alive for you-I did all I could-I did try-but I couldn’t-I couldn’t-’

She gave up and dropped her head, so that her cheek rested against his hair while anguish welled up inside her and overflowed. At this moment she no longer remembered the self-centred predator who’d used her beauty without scruple. She saw Freda as she’d been in the last months her beauty gone, her life slipping away, her eyes filled with fear-and she was consumed by love and pity.

The family exchanged appalled looks, and the women began to move closer to where they could reach out and offer comfort. But Ruggiero stopped them with a gesture, and it was he who went to Polly and dropped down on one knee beside her, resting a hand on her arm. He didn’t speak, but he stayed like that while she tried vainly to control the violence of her feelings.

‘Polly,’ he said gently. ‘Look at me.’

She shook her head. She didn’t want anyone to see her face.

‘All right,’ he said. ‘But let’s take him to bed.’

She nodded, unable to speak.

‘Come on,’ he said, urging her to her feet.

The others stood back as she rose with Matti in her arms and left the room, guided by Ruggiero. Hope gave him a nod of approval as he passed.

When they reached her room he opened the door, standing back while she carried the child in.

‘I’m all right,’ she choked, sitting down on the bed.

He took a paper handkerchief from a box and used it to dab her face. She pulled herself together by force.

‘You’re still crying,’ he said.

‘No, I’m not,’ she gasped, through a new bout of sobs.

He didn’t answer, but sat beside her, his arms about the woman and child, listening to their mingled weeping, saying nothing, waiting until they were ready, however long it might take.