Bride By Choice Page 5

  ‘Just good friends,’ Lorenzo muttered.

  ‘What?’

  ‘Nothing, nothing.’ He looked at her sharply. ‘You look tired. What is it? Is life giving you a hard time?’

  ‘No, I’m just snowed under with working for my exams.’

  ‘What exams?’

  ‘Elroys has its own exam system. The people who come out top get the best jobs. I’ve simply got to be one of them.’

  Her vehemence made him look at her sharply. ‘Hey, steady on,’ he said. ‘Helen, don’t take everything so seriously. You’ll wear yourself out. Ease up.’

  ‘But I can’t ease up. It means so much-my whole life-and it all turns on doing well now. I told you-’

  ‘Yes, you told me, about your family and needing to escape, but let me tell you something. Sometimes escape doesn’t lie in the direction you think.’

  ‘I don’t know where it lies. It’s a bit like being caught in a maze and you don’t know the way out, but you know there is one.’

  ‘And sometimes it was right behind you all the time, and you overlooked it because it was so obvious.’

  She eyed him suspiciously. ‘What does that mean?’

  ‘It’s not a proposal, so stop bristling.’

  ‘I’m sorry. Am I that bad?’

  ‘Yes,’ he said gently. ‘You are that bad. You need looking after.’ He gave her an intent look. ‘And you can’t tell them at home, can you? Because they’d try to use it as a weapon to make you give up.’

  She nodded. ‘That’s exactly how it is. You’re the first person who’s understood that. It’s lonely.’

  ‘But you don’t have to be lonely any more. We can talk. Look, tomorrow night-’

  ‘I have to stay in tomorrow night. Dilys will be out so I can work in peace. I’m sorry.’

  ‘Don’t be sorry, we’ll still be seeing each other.’

  ‘But I’ve told you-’

  ‘I’m going to cook your supper, like a good friend. Then I’ll clear the table and melt into the background while you work. At various intervals I’ll bring you coffee, then melt again.’

  She looked up at him and spoke with wicked relish. ‘And wash the dishes?’

  He gulped. ‘I’ll even do the dishes.’

  She only half believed that he meant it, but the following evening he was waiting, laden with bags, when she left her office. As soon as they were in her apartment, he said, ‘You get on with what you want to do, while I cook.’

  He brought her some coffee in the first few minutes, then started his preparations in the kitchen with the concentration of a maestro. He moved so quietly that once she looked up to make sure he was there. He smiled briefly and ordered her ‘back to work at once’, with a severity that made her smile.

  The meal was a delicious creation of tender meats, beautifully cooked. But an incredible suspicion was overtaking Helen.

  ‘This meat-?’

  ‘Angolini’s finest. I went to your father’s shop this afternoon and asked him what you liked. He told me about this. He said when you were a little girl it was your favourite, and he’d make it for you himself sometimes.’

  ‘Yes, he did,’ she said, remembering. ‘He used to say, “My best meat for my best lady.” He could be lovely. I’d forgotten that.’

  ‘I wish you could have seen his face this afternoon as he showed me how to cook it the way you like.’

  ‘But it’s years since-’ She broke off.

  ‘It may be years but he remembers every detail of what his “best lady” liked,’ Lorenzo said. ‘Now you get back to work. The next course is going to take a while if I’m to get it the way your mother showed me.’

  Having rendered her totally speechless he retreated into the kitchen.

  He served her peaches stewed in wine, with cream, washed down with the best coffee she had ever tasted.

  ‘Did you say my mother?’ she asked at last.

  ‘Poppa sent me upstairs to get her advice, and later he joined us. I think she’d told him how you’re playing me false with Erik, because he assumed I was laying myself out to win you back. He advised me against it. He said it gave a woman improper ideas about having power. Mamma told him to stop talking nonsense.’

  ‘Mamma said that to Poppa? I don’t believe it.’

  ‘It’s different when their kids aren’t around, Helen. All that bossy stuff is for your benefit. When he’s in her kitchen he practically stands to attention if she talks to him. And he was fetching and carrying things from cupboards when she told him to.’

  She smiled, but she only half believed it.

  Afterwards she tried to help him with the washing up.

  ‘No way,’ he said, fending her off. ‘We agreed it was my job.’

  ‘But I can’t let you, after you cooked that lovely meal. Think of your macho image.’

  ‘I never had a macho image,’ he said sorrowfully. ‘I just did what my mother told me. “Gigi, do this; Gigi, do that.”’

  ‘She called you Gigi?’

  ‘It’s short for Luigi, which is my second name.’

  ‘And you did what she told you?’

  ‘Always,’ he said, suspiciously innocent. ‘I was scared of her, you see. Now Renato’s given me a sister-in-law I do what she tells me as well. When Bernardo marries Angie I shan’t know which way to turn.’

  She choked with laughter, adoring him for his sweet temper.

  ‘It’s not kind to laugh at me,’ he complained.

  ‘I can’t help it. You’re a darling,’ she said, and without thinking twice, she put her arms around him in a big, sisterly hug.

  He embraced her back at once and they stood there, patting each other on the back and swaying slightly. The feeling of warmth and safety was delicious. Suddenly the world, instead of being a place she had to fight, became a refuge where she could dare to relax her guard because there was someone to take care of her. The weariness of days was gradually catching up with her…

  ‘Helen-Helen-’

  She opened her eyes. ‘What?’

  ‘You fell asleep standing up.’

  She shook her head. ‘I did?’

  He grinned. ‘I’m losing my touch. Women don’t usually fall asleep in my arms.’

  ‘I’m sorry. It’s just that you felt so safe.’

  ‘Don’t add insult to injury,’ he begged.

  ‘I’d better get back to work.’ But Helen didn’t move. She felt held in a spell, with no power to break it.

  Lorenzo made a sudden, resolute movement, thrusting her away and speaking in a theatrical approximation of ‘macho’.

  ‘Then do so, at once. That’s an order, woman. This is a man speaking. Obey him.’ She gave an unsteady laugh and he grimaced. ‘Yes, I don’t do it very well, do I?’

  ‘You’re out of practice.’

  ‘I’ll bring you some coffee.’

  She returned to her books. The coffee duly arrived and she thanked him with a smile. When she next looked up it was to see Lorenzo washing saucepans.

  She yawned and rose to stretch herself, still feeling sleepy. She stretched out on the sofa, meaning just to close her eyes for a few moments.

  She awoke to find all the lights out except one small table lamp, and the front door opening.

  ‘Hallo,’ Dilys said, coming in, dressed to kill. ‘I thought you’d have been in bed hours ago.’

  ‘Why, what time-two o’clock?’

  Lorenzo had left, she realised. Going into the kitchen she found it cleaned to within an inch of its life. Every cup and plate was in place. Every saucepan gleamed.

  There was a little note under a fridge magnet shaped like a penguin.

  You were sleeping like a baby so I didn’t awaken you. Goodnight. Sleep well.

  She smiled, thinking warmly of her friend’s tender care for her. Then the smile faded as she thought of something else, and wondered if it was only her imagination that his lips had lain briefly on hers while she slept.

  CHAPTER FOUR

 
; O N L ORENZO’S last day in New York Helen dropped into his room and found him deep in the throes of packing.

  ‘Nearly finished,’ he said. ‘Now I have to see Fives to settle a few final points. Can you come with me?’

  ‘I don’t know, but I will anyway,’ she said, thinking of the time to come when he wouldn’t be there.

  He was at Fives for an hour, spent another hour finalising the lease on extra warehouse space, and then he was finished. There were still three hours to kill before she would drive him to the airport. They had a snack in a burger bar, eating almost in silence. Suddenly there was nothing to say.

  Central Park lay on their way back. After the bleak winter the trees were in bloom, glorious white and pink against the blue of the sky. He took her hand and began to walk slowly.

  She wondered where they were going, but soon she realised they weren’t going anywhere. For an hour they walked under the trees, hand in hand, and her heart was heavy. It was like the last day of the vacation, when you were still there but it was all over.

  ‘I guess it’s time to go,’ he said at last.

  She drove him to JFK and waited while he checked in for the evening flight from New York to Rome.

  ‘There’s a few minutes before they call me,’ he said. ‘Let’s have a drink.’

  He bought an orange juice for her and a scotch for himself, and they sat smiling, saying the things people say when they don’t know what else to say.

  ‘Have you got everything?’ she asked.

  ‘Too late now if I haven’t. I’ve got my passport and tickets, so I won’t go far wrong.’

  ‘That’s true.’

  Silence.

  ‘You’ve got better weather for going home than you had arriving,’ she said valiantly.

  ‘Well, it’s spring now. Sicily will be beautiful. All blossoms.’

  ‘So you’re glad to be going?’

  ‘I’m looking forward to seeing everyone again. But I’ve had a great time.’

  ‘So have I.’

  ‘Will you have problems with your family when I’m gone?’

  ‘I’ll just say we changed our minds. What can they do? Anyway,’ she added on a teasing note, ‘I promise to reveal nothing until you’re safely out of the way.’

  ‘Thanks,’ he said with feeling. ‘But seriously, I wouldn’t like to think of you having trouble.’

  ‘Don’t worry about me.’

  ‘I just hope Giorgio doesn’t make himself unpleasant.’

  ‘Giorgio’s always unpleasant about something. If he shouts I’ll shout back. I’m good at letting people know when I’m mad at them.’

  ‘Yeah, I remember.’

  And there they were, back in the first evening, with her saying she was good’n mad, and him not fighting back because that wasn’t his way, and anyway he didn’t have a leg to stand on. And they’d both known that the problem was the kiss he’d stolen, which was unlike any other kiss. And they’d also both known that the problem wasn’t going to go away.

  ‘Maybe they’ll get to like Erik,’ Lorenzo suggested. ‘When they’ve forgiven you for preferring him to me.’

  Preferring him to you? she thought. Oh, you shouldn’t have said that.

  ‘I’ll be working with Erik from now on. In fact, I’ll be joining him tonight at some hotel function.’

  ‘Beware hotel functions,’ he said with a grin. ‘You meet some weird characters there.’

  ‘I shall be quite safe with Erik,’ she said primly. ‘He’s always the perfect gentleman.’

  ‘Nobody ever accused me of being a perfect gentleman.’

  He grinned again, and she wished he hadn’t, because it made her realise how much she was going to miss his sweet temper and the sunshine he carried with him. This was really it. He was going away and she might never see him again.

  ‘If they do, I’ll put them straight,’ she assured him.

  Ten minutes to go.

  ‘The important thing is that you’re running your own life, not letting your parents run it for you,’ he reminded her.

  ‘With your help. We really outflanked them, didn’t we?’

  ‘We certainly did.’

  Silence.

  ‘Can I get you another drink?’ he asked desperately.

  ‘Just an orange juice, please.’

  ‘Sure. I don’t want to get you in trouble with Elroys. If you’re meeting Erik I expect you need to hurry back.’

  ‘I’ll see you into the departure lounge, but I won’t wait for take off.’

  ‘No, no, of course not. I wouldn’t expect-I mean, I know you’re busy.’

  ‘Yes, fine.’

  ‘Fine.’

  Silence.

  ‘How is Erik about everything?’ he asked

  ‘Everything?’

  ‘You and me-I mean, seeing so much of each other this last week?’

  ‘He mentioned you when he called last night and said he was glad I was keeping a close eye on the hotel’s interests.’

  ‘That’s all he said?’ Lorenzo was outraged.

  ‘Yes. Which is lucky.’

  ‘Well, OK, but if I’d heard-I mean if the girl that I-if she-you’re right. It’s good that he’s so reasonable. Sure. Right. Fine.’

  Five minutes to go. Their drinks arrived. Four minutes. Time was slipping past and there was something she ought to say, but she didn’t know what and soon it would be too late.

  ‘I’ve got your email address, haven’t I?’ he asked for the tenth time.

  ‘Yes, and I’ve got yours.’

  ‘Stay in touch. Like we said-best friends.’

  ‘You stay in touch. Let me know you arrived safely.’

  ‘Will passengers for flight-?’

  They got to their feet and walked the short distance. At the barrier they faced each other, smiling.

  ‘Well, this is it. Goodbye-’ he added provocatively, ‘Elena.’

  She made a fist and aimed it gently at his nose. He laughed and took hold of her hand, straightening out the fingers and dropping a light kiss onto them. Then his laughter faded and something seemed to have taken him by surprise.

  She struggled to speak but nothing would come. She could see only Lorenzo’s face and feel the warm pressure of his hand enfolding hers. Her throat felt tight.

  ‘Goodbye, Helen. I’m going to miss you.’

  ‘Goodbye,’ she whispered.

  Then there was his hand on her shoulder, his lips briefly brushing her cheek. As he walked away she could see the back of his head, easily visible above the rest of the crowd before a turning took him from her sight.

  She stood amidst the teeming airport and felt more desolate and alone than ever before in her life.

  She had said she would leave at once, but she needed a strong coffee, and she sat over it for half an hour before realising it was cold and ordering another. When she’d drunk that she told herself again that she should be leaving. But instead her feet carried her to the window from which she could see the 747 just starting to pull away. She stood rooted to the spot while it glided out onto the runway in the dusk, then gathered speed until it rose into the air and headed for the clouds.

  Helen stared at the disappearing lights until she could see them no more. Suddenly everything was blurred and she wondered if there was rain on the window panes, until she realised that it was her eyes that were blurred.

  It was a long flight to Rome and when he landed Lorenzo had a head like cotton wool. But he got straight onto the connecting flight to Palermo, and was home by the evening of the next day.

  Renato and Heather were waiting for him, hugging him with delight and carrying him off home in triumph. There his mother opened her arms to her youngest son, her eyes shining with joy. Fede, the lover of her youth, now her constant companion, shook his hand. Heather hugged him again, although it was less easy now that her pregnancy was becoming obvious. Renato paid one of his rare compliments.

  ‘You did a fine job over there,’ he growled. ‘The order
books are overflowing.’

  ‘And you’ve got something to tell, yes?’ his mother asked eagerly. ‘About Elena?’

  ‘Mamma, it’s nothing, I swear it. There’s nothing to tell. We’re just good friends.’

  Baptista gave a little scream of outrage. ‘You were kissing the first evening. You’ve spent the last week living in each other’s pockets and you’re just good friends? This is your Mamma you’re talking to. Who do you think you are? A film star giving a press conference?’

  ‘I didn’t mean it that way,’ he said hastily. ‘We’re just friendly, that’s all. We had to work together a lot, and we had fun too. It didn’t mean anything.’

  ‘That’s not what Signora Angolini says when we have talked on the telephone.’

  Lorenzo tore his hair. ‘Maria vergine! Helen was right! Today Manhattan, tomorrow the world!’

  ‘And just who is Helen?’ Baptista asked.

  ‘She prefers Helen to Elena. Mamma, can we talk about this later? I’m just glad to be back with my family. Where’s Bernardo? Where’s Angie?’

  His mother allowed him to escape, but with a look that said she would talk to him later.

  Neither Bernardo nor Angie was present. As Lorenzo had told Helen, his half brother lived a lonely life in Montedoro, the mountain village where he had been born. Bitter pride had made him reject the woman he loved because of her wealth. But great-hearted Angie had followed him, working as the local doctor in that comfortless place. Gradually he was learning to respect her, perhaps even letting himself love her again. But there was no sign of them at this gathering.

  ‘Bernardo’s vanished,’ Renato explained. ‘You know the way he’s always doing that without warning. He’ll be back in his own good time.’

  ‘I thought he and Angie were sorting things out,’ Lorenzo protested. ‘Mamma, you remember your birthday party just before I left, when Angie wouldn’t come in case the snow stopped her getting back up the mountain to her patients, and Bernardo left early? I thought it was because he wanted to be with her.’

  ‘I’m sure he did,’ Baptista said. ‘When I called Angie that night, he was there in her home.’

  ‘But it seems he left the next day,’ Heather said, ‘and he’s still away.’