The Secret That Changed Everything Read online

  ‘And who’s Lucio to tell you what you can and can’t do?’

  ‘He’s the father. That gives him some rights.’

  ‘But he can’t tell you whether you can or can’t come home.’

  Home, she thought. How strange that word now sounded. Wasn’t Tuscany her home now?

  ‘What about marriage?’ Ellie demanded.

  ‘We haven’t talked about it, but we get on well.’

  ‘Charlotte, shouldn’t you be facing facts now? Does he actually want to marry you? I mean, if he hasn’t asked you—’

  ‘I—’

  ‘He hasn’t, has he?’

  ‘No, but that doesn’t mean—’

  ‘Doesn’t it? Look, I care about you. I know you don’t believe that after the trouble recently, but it’s true. I want you to be happy, and I don’t think you are. You’re having his child, he’s moved you into his house but he won’t make it final. Doesn’t that tell you something?’

  Charlotte couldn’t speak. Conflicting thoughts and emotions stormed through her. Her feelings were greater than Lucio’s, but she’d told herself a thousand times that she could cope. Now Ellie was forcing her to face something she wanted to avoid, at least for the moment.

  ‘What about you?’ Ellie pursued remorselessly. ‘Do you want to marry him?’

  ‘Don’t be so old-fashioned,’ Charlotte said quickly. ‘People don’t have to marry these days.’

  ‘No, but if things are right between them they want to get married. That’s how you know. Does he say he loves you?’

  ‘Look—’

  ‘I guess that means he doesn’t. For pity’s sake, get yourself back here as soon as possible. He thinks he owns you but he won’t commit to you. Come home, Charlotte.’

  ‘Ellie, I’ve got to go. We’ll talk again soon. Goodbye.’

  She shut the call down and sat with her face buried in her hands, devastated. It was no use telling herself that Ellie didn’t understand the situation. The words ‘He thinks he owns you but he won’t commit to you’ rang in her ears despite her frantic attempts to shut them out.

  ‘It’s not true,’ she whispered. ‘He needs time. We’re close, even if it’s only as friends. I can build on that.’

  But in her mind was another voice, saying cruelly, ‘You’re fooling yourself. He doesn’t care for you in the way you want, and you just believe what you want to believe.’

  ‘But I’m not giving up yet,’ she whispered.

  * * *

  As part of her desire to fit in with Lucio’s life she asked him to show her the shop in Florence that he had bought with Enrico. It was in the luxurious Via della Vigna Nuova, which translated as the Street of the New Vineyard. Not surprisingly it was to be a wine store.

  She met Vincente, who would be in charge, organising the shop, stocking it, arranging the grand opening. She found him pleasant and receptive to the ideas that were beginning to bubble in her mind. She wanted to be involved in this venture.

  As they were just about to leave there was a new arrival, the last person they expected to see there.

  ‘Franco,’ Charlotte exclaimed, holding out her hands.

  ‘I’m not selling this place back to you,’ Lucio said at once.

  ‘Don’t worry, it’s all yours. But I remember I left some stuff of mine in the cupboard under the stairs.’

  They helped him fetch his things, and the three of them had lunch together.

  Franco continued to happily talk away in Venetian with Charlotte, until at last he switched back to Italian to say, ‘I suppose you’ll make a bid for one of the Bantori vineyards now.’

  ‘I’ve been thinking of it,’ Lucio agreed, ‘but why do you say “now”?’

  ‘Because now you have Charlotte, who speaks Venetian, you’ll find a lot of things easier.’

  ‘Venetian?’ Charlotte exclaimed. ‘But surely you can’t grow grapes in Venice, with all those canals?’

  ‘Not actually in Venice,’ Lucio told her. ‘But there are vineyards in the surrounding countryside, and I’ve been thinking of expanding.’

  ‘I can put you in touch with several useful people,’ Franco said.

  Charlotte grew very still. An idea was creeping up on her, mischievous, delightful, a bit naughty but all the more fun for that.

  Assuming a tone of serious consideration she said, ‘I think we should go to Venice as soon as possible. There’s important business to be done. The next few days would be a good idea.’

  Lucio eyed her curiously. ‘What are you up to?’

  ‘Me?’ she asked, eyes wide and innocent. ‘I’m just trying to help you make money. Why would you suspect me of an ulterior motive?’

  ‘Because I’m beginning to know you, and an ulterior motive is the first thing that comes into my head.’ He grinned. ‘Come on. Own up. What am I being tricked into?’

  Franco began to laugh. ‘Of course, I should have thought of it. Where was my head?’ He beamed at Charlotte. ‘I should have known that someone as knowledgeable about Italy as you would have been alert to this.’

  ‘It’s something I’ve always wanted to see,’ she said. ‘And here’s my chance.’

  ‘When you two jokers have finished,’ Lucio said ironically. ‘Are you going to let me in on the secret?’

  ‘Perhaps we ought to tell him,’ Franco asked.

  ‘I reckon we’d better,’ she said solemnly. Her eyes met Lucio’s, his wary, hers brimming with fun.

  ‘If we go now we’ll be in time for the festival. You know—the Festa della Sensa. You must have heard of it.’

  ‘Of course I—is it now? Yes—’ He slapped his forehead.

  ‘And you’re an Italian,’ Charlotte mocked.

  ‘I’m Tuscan not Venetian. I don’t keep all their festivals in my head. But I’ve heard of this one and I agree it would be good to go.’

  The Festa della Sensa was a glorious Venetian water pageant, whose peak was the moment when a ring was tossed into the water, symbolising Venice’s marriage to the sea. By sheer lucky chance it was due to start in a few days, and they would have time to get there and join in.

  ‘You’re a conniving little so-and-so,’ he said when they returned to the car.

  ‘Nonsense. I’m doing my bit as your Venetian assistant. Just wait and see how useful I can be.’

  ‘I think I’m going to enjoy this,’ he said.

  ‘I hope so. I know I am.’

  That night, somewhere in her dreams, Charlotte heard Lucio’s softly murmured, ‘You’re wonderful.’ Then she awoke and lay awake listening, longing to hear again the whisper that would bring her to life.

  He’d said it to her after their night of passion. Surely one day he would say it again.

  Waiting—waiting...

  Light was coming in around the gaps at the blinds, and she rose to go to the window, wanting to watch the dawn. Now she felt as though light was dawning in her life. Everything in her yearned towards the trip to Venice that she would take with Lucio, share work with him, and perhaps share even more.

  Then she saw something that made her grow still. At a little distance on a hill there was a man, completely still, watching the dawn. As the light slowly engulfed him she could see that it was Lucio.

  What had made him go out to that isolated place to stand against the sky, so alone that he might have been the only person alive in the world?

  And she remembered what he’d said about a desert that very first night; that it could be a place of safety because there was nobody to hurt you. And he’d meant exactly that. She knew it now.

  With all her heart she longed to go to him, open her arms and draw him against her heart, telling him that he didn’t need to live in a desert. But at this moment he would turn away from her, because the desert was what he had chosen.

  She stood watching him for a long time, hoping to see him move, to return home to her. But he stood there, imprisoned in a terrible, isolated stillness.

  At last she returned to bed and lay dow
n in her own desert.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  THEY nearly didn’t make the trip to Venice. With only two days to the festival every hotel for miles was booked. But a sudden cancellation came just in time.

  ‘We’re going to stay in the Tirani Hotel,’ Lucio told her.

  Charlotte’s eyes widened. ‘Wow!’

  The Tirani was one of the most luxurious hotels in Venice. On her last visit she had stayed in a far more modest establishment, occasionally walking past the Tirani, just close enough to see that it was way out of her price range.

  ‘I hope it lives up to your expectations,’ Lucio said, grinning and correctly interpreting her amazement.

  They travelled by train, boarding at Florence Station for the two-hour journey.

  ‘I loved Venice when I was there before,’ she said as they neared the magical city. ‘But it was winter and everywhere was under snow, even the gondolas. I’ve always wanted to go back and see it in the sun.’

  ‘And you managed it, by manipulating me like a puppet. Well done.’

  ‘Oh, that’s how you feel. Well, if the vineyards in the Veneto aren’t worth fighting for, why don’t we just go back?’

  He eyed her with grimly humorous appreciation.

  ‘If you think I’ll fall for that, forget it. I know you well enough by now to reckon that you’ll have researched the subject and know exactly how good they are.’

  ‘Right! I did just that, and I know that the Bantori vineyards are well known for their white grapes, which are used to make the very best prosecco wine. In Tuscany you grow Sangiovese grapes to make red wine, so you’d probably enjoy branching out into a different area.’

  ‘You really have been doing research,’ he observed.

  He wished he could have kept the touch of admiration out of his voice. It galled him to discover that he respected her brains, but he couldn’t help it.

  He’d never sought the company of intellectual women. Nor was that how she’d appeared on the first evening. True, she’d argued like someone whose brain was up to every trick, but soon other aspects of her had risen to distract him. Now he was discovering that to keep one step ahead of her he would need all his wits.

  As she gazed out of the window he took the chance to study her, knowing that her combination of beauty and brains was likely to cause him even more trouble in the future than it had already. Pregnancy suited her, causing a glorious flowering. Yet the alertness was always there in her eyes, warning him to take nothing for granted.

  He marvelled at the situation in which he found himself. He, not she, was Italian, yet in thirty-two years he had never visited Venice. But she knew the city well and was revealing it to him. Something in the irony of that appealed to his sense of humour.

  Not that there had been much humour in his life. Once, briefly, he’d enjoyed a time of vibrant emotion, but when it was snatched from him he’d determined to banish feelings, clinging only to things that could be relied on. Work, money, philanthropy. He was known for his fine actions benefiting his neighbours, raising money for good causes and donating generously. Few could have guessed that this was actually another way of keeping people away. When they praised his noble generosity they did it at a distance, so there was little need to reach out to them.

  Eventually he supposed a wife and child might have formed part of his schedule. To have them imposed on him out of the blue had been a shock, but one he had decided to accommodate. It was good to have an heir, and a woman who understood the kind of man he was had seemed ideal. Understanding her in return hadn’t entered into his calculations. At least, not at first.

  But being with her was like living with one of those legendary beings whose touch changed the world. There was no choice but to follow. Gradually he was getting into her mind, but her ability to catch him off guard was disconcerting. Sometimes even pleasant.

  She turned and met his gaze.

  ‘Nearly there,’ she said, smiling.

  They had reached Venice Mestre, the last railway station on the mainland before the Liberty Bridge, which stretched nearly two miles out across the lagoon to the Santa Lucia Station in Venice itself. As they crossed the water Charlotte gazed, riveted, at the view she had longed to see again ever since she had left the city.

  When they got down from the train she almost ran out of the station to where it opened onto the Grand Canal, and stood, breathless with delight at the sight of the boats and the water.

  ‘This was it,’ she breathed. ‘This was it! Oh, isn’t it beautiful?’

  Now Lucio found that she could wrong-foot him again. Charlotte the efficient researcher had vanished, replaced by Charlotte the eager child, ready to plunge into a delicious fantasy.

  ‘This is where I have to rely on you,’ he said. ‘What do we do now?’

  In a city where the roads were made of water there was no place for wheeled vehicles. To get to the hotel they must either walk through the multitude of little back alleys, or travel by motorboat.

  ‘We could get onto a vaporetto,’ she said, indicating a huge water bus that had just docked. ‘But a taxi’s better. Over there.’

  She pointed to where a group of motorboats were moored, ready for passengers. In a moment they were aboard, gliding along the Grand Canal, between the palaces, beneath the great bridges, until they reached the hotel. The receptionist greeted Lucio with the awe due to a man who’d hired the most expensive suite.

  The place lived up to all Charlotte’s expectations. She had her own bedroom, next to Lucio’s, with a view of the canal. Looking out she saw Lucio at his own window, just a few feet away. He nodded.

  ‘I’m glad we came.’

  ‘Hey!’

  A cry from below made them look down to see Franco standing up in a boat, hailing them.

  ‘You’re here!’ he yelled. ‘That’s wonderful! Tonight you will be my guests for dinner. I have important people for you to meet. I’ll collect you in an hour.’

  Charlotte sighed as she saw her dream of dinner alone with Lucio vanish. But there was no choice. Doubtless the ‘important people’ Franco mentioned would have something to do with vineyards. This trip was about business, and she mustn’t let herself forget that.

  While she was unpacking her cell phone rang. It was Ellie.

  ‘Is he there with you?’ she wanted to know.

  ‘Not in the room, but we’re in Venice together.’

  ‘Has he mentioned any further commitment?’

  ‘No, but—’

  ‘Charlotte, you’ve done some pretty mad things in your time, but this is something that affects us all. We think you should come home. You can’t cope alone.’

  ‘I’m not alone. I’m living with nice people who are kind to me.’

  ‘But you can’t mean to stay there for good. You belong here, with your family.’

  ‘Family? Belong? Ellie, do you know how hollow those words sound to me now?’

  She heard her voice sounding sharper than she’d intended and checked herself.

  ‘I can’t talk now. I have to go out—’

  ‘Can’t it wait? This is important.’

  ‘And my life here is important to me.’

  ‘If we could just talk about—’

  Suddenly Charlotte felt her temper rising.

  ‘No. Not now. When I’m ready to talk I’ll call you. Goodbye, I’ve got to go now.’

  She hung up, wishing Ellie hadn’t chosen this moment to make contact. The last thing she wanted to think about was her old life, not when her new one was so tempting.

  For the evening she chose her attire with great care. Something suitable for a business meeting, yet which would attract Lucio. At last she chose a cocktail dress of black velvet. It would be the last time she could fit into it for a while, and she was going to make the best of what it could do for her. Lucio was determined to behave ‘properly’ as he saw it, making no sexual claims on her for fear of causing harm. But she knew there was no need to fear harm, and while she still had t
he chance she was going to get him to behave ‘improperly,’ no matter what it took.

  She knew she was on the right track when she saw his face, eyes alight with admiration, a smile that he was trying to keep under control, and not entirely succeeding.

  ‘Do I look like an efficient assistant?’ she asked. ‘All ready to do my duty?’

  ‘Is that how you’re trying to look?’

  ‘Well, this is going to be a working meal, isn’t it?’

  ‘Is it?’ He sounded baffled.

  ‘Who do you think these “important people” are that Franco wants us to meet? They must be something to do with the vineyards. Obviously they’re friends of his and he’s helping them find a buyer. That’s why he suggested you might want to buy a Veneto vineyard, and why he’s bringing you together.’ She met his gaze with well-contrived innocence. ‘Surely that’s obvious?’

  ‘Yes—yes, of course,’ he said hastily. He pulled himself together. ‘I can see you’re going to be an excellent assistant. I’m impressed.’

  Franco was waiting downstairs, ready to lead them the short distance to the restaurant.

  ‘There will be ten of us,’ he said. ‘My son has recently become engaged, and will be joining us with his fiancée, Ginevra. Also Ginevra’s parents will be there. You’ll have a lot in common with them, Lucio. They own several vineyards around here.’

  Charlotte stole a sly glance at Lucio and found him looking right back at her. As their eyes met each knew the other was suppressing a smile.

  ‘I think you must be psychic,’ he whispered in her ear.

  ‘You might find that a very useful gift in an assistant.’

  ‘An assistant isn’t exactly what I had in mind. Yes, Franco, we’re just coming.’

  Together they walked on, each wondering exactly what the other was thinking, and each thoroughly enjoying it.

  In the restaurant they found the four people Franco had described, also his wife, who greeted them with a beaming smile. Charlotte found herself sitting next to Rico, owner of the vineyard, with Lucio on his other side, confirming her suspicions that this was a work meeting.