Mediterranean Rebel's Bride Read online

  ‘How soon can we fetch him?’

  ‘Mamma!’

  ‘Your son no longer has a mother, but he has a father. Of course he belongs here.’

  ‘I think so too,’ Polly said. ‘I believe he’s a Rinucci. But of course it can be easily established with a test.’

  Hope pulled a face. ‘No need. If he’s one of us I’ll know as soon as I hold him in my arms. I’ll book the flight to England at once. Polly, you will return here with me, won’t you? To help him settle in.’

  ‘Her fiancé may object,’ Ruggiero observed.

  ‘He won’t,’ Polly said hastily. ‘Yes, I’ll come back for a while.’

  Hope cast her a strange look, but said nothing. Wasting no time, she picked up Polly’s bedside phone, called the airport, and found a flight to London that afternoon.

  By now the light was growing, and the house was waking up around them. Hope bustled away to tell everyone of the plan for today.

  ‘I’m afraid you got taken over again,’ Ruggiero said wryly.

  ‘That’s all right. I’m glad about this. Hope will love him—’

  ‘Even if I don’t? Is that what you mean?’

  ‘You will—in the end. Perhaps you should go now.’

  It was a relief when he left. She needed time to work out more details of her ‘fiancé’.

  He’s a doctor called Brian, she decided. And I met him at the hospital where I used to work. And he’s doing a lot of night shifts, so he’s hard to get hold of.

  She’d invented a fiancé on the spur of the moment, solely to silence Ruggiero in their argument. If she’d stopped to consider first she might not have done it.

  But that’s me, she thought ruefully. Speak first, think afterwards. I might have come up with something else if I’d had time, or if Ruggiero couldn’t annoy me so much that—ah, well. I’m stuck with a ‘fiancé’ now, so I may as well make use of him.

  Today Ruggiero went downstairs for breakfast. Polly found herself sitting next to Toni, who seemed eager to talk to her. She’d seen little of him before, but now she found him a gentle, soft-spoken man, full of joy about his new grandson.

  ‘You won’t stay away too long, will you?’ he asked anxiously.

  ‘That’s up to Hope,’ she said. ‘She’s arranging everything.’

  For a moment his eyes rested fondly on his wife.

  ‘Yes,’ he said. ‘She knows just how to make everything right.’

  After breakfast she called the friends caring for Matthew to say she was on her way. Then she went looking for Ruggiero, and found him in the garden, sitting on a fallen log, looking at his clasped hands.

  ‘I’ve left you some of those pills, but use them sparingly,’ she said.

  ‘I probably won’t need them. I feel better now I’m up.’

  ‘Good. But don’t overdo it.’ A sudden suspicion made her add, ‘Don’t go back to work.’

  ‘I’ll just drop in to talk to my partner. No racing, I promise.’

  ‘Your partner can visit you here.’

  ‘And let him see me looking like an invalid? Forget it.’

  ‘Is there any way to get some sense into you?’

  ‘Nope, so stop wasting your time.’

  There was a sulphurous silence. Then he grinned reluctantly.

  ‘Sorry if I give you a hard time.’

  But she had his measure by now. ‘You’re not sorry. That ritual apology is just to shut me up.’

  ‘Well, it’s failed, hasn’t it? As a matter of interest, has anyone ever actually managed to shut you up?’

  ‘Would I tell you?’

  ‘Not if you were wise.’ He grinned again, more warmly this time. ‘I promise to be good while you’re gone.’

  He brightened suddenly.

  ‘You and my mother have a lot in common. The way you took your fiancé’s consent for granted was very like her. What’s his name, by the way?’

  ‘Brian,’ she said quickly. ‘And he’ll understand about my coming back here. After all, it won’t be for long.’

  ‘What did he say when you called to tell him?’

  ‘I haven’t done that yet.’

  ‘You’d better hurry if you want him to meet you at the airport.’

  ‘He can’t. He’s a hospital doctor and he’s on night duty at the moment,’ she said, repeating the story she’d mapped out. ‘I’d better go and get ready.’

  Before she could move he reached out and took her hand.

  ‘A moment,’ he said. ‘I want to ask you a favour.’

  But he stopped there, as though it was hard for him to go on.

  ‘What can I do for you?’ she asked gently.

  His hand tightened on hers.

  ‘When you get home—do you have any more pictures of her?’

  ‘Yes, I have plenty. I’ll bring some of them to you.’

  ‘Bring them all. Everything—please.’

  ‘There are a lot of blanks to be filled in, aren’t there?’

  ‘I used to think I’d have the chance to fill them in one day. I never thought it would be like this, when it’s too late to make any difference.’

  But it could still make a difference, she thought. It would help him learn to relate to his son, and she would do everything in her power to help that happen.

  ‘You’d better let me go,’ she said, wincing slightly.

  He seemed to return from a distance, to realise that he was gripping her hand hard. He made an exclamation as he released it and began to rub it between his two hands.

  ‘I think the circulation’s started again now,’ she said lightly.

  ‘I’m sorry—again. Hell! Why don’t I just give you a big apology now, and hopefully it’ll cover everything in the future?’

  ‘Well, I’m leaving in a couple of hours,’ she said lightly. ‘You won’t have time to annoy me before then.’

  ‘You underestimate me. Let’s go in.’

  He helped her to her feet and they walked indoors, briefly in accord.

  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.’