Gino’s Arranged Bride Page 7

  ‘Come on, Cinders,’ he said, drawing her out of the room and up the stairs.

  Arms around each other’s waist they made their way along the corridor to her door.

  ‘Thanks, I’m all right now,’ she said, opening the door. ‘Hey, what are you doing?’

  Gino had edged past her into the room and gone to her bedside table, where he took possession of her alarm clock.

  ‘I’ll cook breakfast tomorrow,’ he said. ‘You sleep late. Goodnight.’

  He was as good as his word, rising at seven next morning and creeping downstairs to start work.

  After half an hour Nikki crept in, and they both put their fingers to their lips, like conspirators.

  Gino poured a cup of tea.

  ‘Take this up to Mummy,’ he said, ‘and tell her to stay where she is. Those are my orders.’

  Nikki giggled and went carefully upstairs. After a moment she returned and said, ‘Mummy says you’re a rotten bully and the worst man in the world. And thank you for the lovely tea.’

  It was all right. He was her brother again. But it had been a near thing.

  Like many factories Compulor did not stagger its holidays, but simply closed down, forcing everyone to take their holidays at the same time. Sadie and Claudia took a trip to France, and Gino found himself with nothing to do but laze around the house.

  Nikki’s school was out for the summer, and the two of them were thrown into each other’s company.

  ‘You don’t have to let her monopolise every moment of your time,’ Laura said guiltily. ‘Even I can see that she’s becoming a proper little tyrant.’

  ‘I don’t mind,’ he said easily.

  ‘It’s nice of you to say so, but you have your own life to live.’

  He gave his charming shrug as if to say, ‘Do I?’

  ‘Nikki bullies you.’

  ‘Some men are just easily bullied.’

  She surveyed him, her head on one side. ‘You don’t fool me.’

  ‘Hm?’ he said, wide-eyed.

  ‘And don’t give me that innocent look, because it doesn’t work.’

  ‘It does,’ he insisted.

  ‘No, it used to work, but I’m learning now, so stop your nonsense.’

  ‘My nonsense? Please? Non capisco. Me no spikka da English.’

  She chucked a cushion at him. ‘You spikka da English perfectly well when you want to. You understand what suits you and you play dumb when it suits you.’

  ‘Well, you get to learn a lot that way,’ he conceded.

  “‘Easily bullied,” my foot! I’ll bet you can be as stubborn as a mule.’

  ‘I can, but it’s mostly pointless. I like a quiet life.’

  ‘No, you don’t,’ she said suddenly. ‘You’ve settled for a quiet life, but that’s not the same thing.’

  He was silent for a moment. ‘You’re very astute.’

  ‘Gino,’ she said impulsively, ‘what is it that you do want? If you could have your perfect life, what would it be?’

  ‘Oh-I don’t know-’ he murmured.

  She caught a look on his face that had never been there before. Tension, wistfulness, desolation, they were all there, and for a moment she thought he would answer. But then the look was gone, leaving only blandness behind.

  ‘If all your dreams came true,’ she persisted, ‘what would they be?’

  ‘That’s not the point of dreams,’ he said.

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Dreams aren’t for coming true, they’re for dreaming. If they come true you’ve lost them, and you have to find another dream.’

  ‘But that’s not what happened to you, is it?’ she asked. ‘You didn’t get what you dreamed of.’

  He smiled at her but he was looking into the distance.

  ‘Maybe the things I dreamed about were things I had no right to,’ he said.

  ‘But they were still your dreams. Were they beautiful?’

  ‘Yes, they were beautiful,’ he said softly. ‘But forbidden, although I didn’t know it then. I know it now.’

  ‘Aren’t there other things to dream of?’ she asked quietly.

  He shook his head. ‘It’s better not to. You just end up wasting a lot of time. You asked about my ideal life. I suppose it would be much like the one I have.’

  So he wasn’t going to let her in, she thought. Tonight he’d let her creep nearer to his confidence than ever before, but even so the door had swung shut at the last minute, leaving her with the frustrating feeling that Gino was like an iceberg. Not in his nature, for a more warm-hearted, sweet-tempered man never lived, but in the way he concealed nine-tenths of himself beneath a smiling surface.

  CHAPTER SIX

  G INO was getting used to hearing Steve’s car draw up late at night, then pause, then the front door. He no longer went to the window, but sometimes he would join Laura in the kitchen afterwards, trying to read the progress of the relationship in her face.

  He knew he should be glad for her, since she seemed to have found the ideal man, but he couldn’t make himself do it. Trying to analyse his unease was frustrating, because the best he could come up with was that Steve bore a marked resemblance to Laura’s ex-husband. And that made him more uneasy than ever.

  One night, after she had returned, he emerged into the dark corridor in time to hear Laura and Nikki talking in the child’s room.

  ‘Go to sleep, now,’ he heard Laura say from the door.

  ‘But you did have a lovely time, didn’t you, Mummy?’

  ‘Yes, I did, and it’s time you were asleep.’

  ‘But-’

  ‘Goodnight,’ Laura said, laughing but firm as she closed the door.

  ‘She’s a little monkey,’ Gino observed as they went downstairs together.

  In the kitchen they settled down to have one of their late-night chats over a cup of tea. Gino wondered how many more times this would happen.

  ‘You’re bursting with news,’ he said, looking at her glowing face.

  ‘I told him about Nikki. Everything’s wonderful.’

  Something hit him in the stomach. ‘That’s great.’

  ‘He was so supportive and understanding. Oh, Gino, I’m so happy-’

  The doorbell rang.

  ‘Who’s that at this hour?’ Gino muttered, rising and making his way towards the door.

  Afterwards he realised that he should have guessed, or at least been on the alert. But he was off guard, and it came as a total surprise when he opened the door and saw Steve Deyton.

  ‘Hi!’ Steve said cheerily. ‘You must be Gino. Laura’s told me about you.’

  He grasped Gino’s hand and pumped it up and down, while contriving to slip past him into the hall.

  ‘Laura left her scarf in the car,’ he said, ‘so I thought I’d bring it back. Hello, darling!’

  This was to Laura who’d come out into the hall, smiling as she saw him, opening her arms to be enclosed in his.

  Then it happened.

  There was the sound of footsteps scampering downstairs, an eager cry of-

  ‘Mummy, is that-?’

  Steve, facing the stairs, raised his eyes and caught his first glimpse of Nikki. Time seemed to stop. From where he was standing Gino saw everything in his face, the frozen shock, the horror, the revulsion.

  What broke Gino’s heart was that Nikki saw it too.

  Laura, facing the other direction, didn’t know what was happening. But she heard Nikki check, felt Steve grow tense, and drew back to look at his face, just in time to see him adjust his expression.

  She knew at once. She’d seen that hasty adjustment too often to be mistaken about it. She stepped back from him as though he were poison.

  Incredibly, Gino thought, the only one not stunned to silence was Nikki. She descended the last stairs and came forward to Steve.

  ‘Hello,’ she said calmly. ‘I’m Nikki.’

  ‘Hello, Nikki,’ he said mechanically.

  His eyes moved from side to side like a man des
perately seeking a way out. Nikki, watching him, knew everything.

  She took a step closer to Gino. Her hand slipped into his and squeezed it hard. He squeezed back.

  ‘What are you doing down here you rascal?’ Gino asked, hoping his voice didn’t shake. ‘You were supposed to be asleep ages ago. Come on. Upstairs with you.’

  Without a word she went with him. Hand in hand they went up together, and along to her room. Nikki kept a tight hold of his hand until she was in bed and he was tucking her up.

  They looked at each other. There was a calm determination about the child that he had to respect, and no way was he going to insult her with comforting platitudes that she was too intelligent to believe.

  ‘He isn’t magic, like you,’ she said at last in a voice that was too grim for a child.

  ‘I guess not everyone can be magic,’ he said gently. ‘Maybe we should feel sorry for people who aren’t. They’re not special, like us.’

  She nodded.

  ‘I suppose you meet a lot like him,’ he ventured.

  ‘Yes. I don’t really mind-’ her voice wobbled.

  Gino abandoned words and enfolded her in a bear hug. They were sitting like that when Laura came in. Her face was tight, angry, and she looked as if she’d been crying.

  ‘Here’s Mummy,’ Gino said softly.

  There was no movement from Nikki.

  ‘Nikki?’ he whispered, leaning over slightly, trying to see her face.

  Still there was no answer, except her deep, regular breathing.

  ‘She’s gone to sleep,’ he said.

  Gently they lowered Nikki back onto the pillows. Somehow she’d taken hold of Gino’s hand again and he had to ease away carefully. But he managed it without waking her, and they crept out of the room.

  ‘Are you all right?’ he asked.

  ‘I will be.’

  ‘Come here,’ he said, opening his own door and showing her in. ‘You need some of this.’

  From his wardrobe he took out a bottle of Chianti and opened it.

  ‘I bought it because I was feeling homesick,’ he said, producing a glass and filling it. ‘Drink. It’ll do you more good than all the words in the world.’

  Laura sat on the edge of the bed, which was almost the only place to sit, and sipped the wine.

  ‘It’s good. And who needs words anyway? It was all over as soon as I saw his face.’

  ‘You wouldn’t marry him now?’

  ‘Not in a million years, not after he hurt her. But he wouldn’t ask me now, I know that.’

  ‘What happened after I left?’

  ‘He was embarrassed. He kept giving this little nervous giggle and he couldn’t meet my eyes. We were supposed to be going out on Friday, but he’d suddenly remembered that there might be a problem about that.’

  ‘Oh, yeah?’ Gino asked cynically.

  ‘Yeah,’ she echoed with a little wry smile.

  ‘Then he said he’d call me to arrange something else. He won’t of course. It’s over. How could I have got him so wrong?’

  ‘I guess you wanted to believe in him.’

  ‘Yes, I wanted it too much. I was a fool.’

  ‘You’re not a fool just because you want to feel loved and wanted. It’s what we all want.’

  ‘But I have no right to want it,’ she said. ‘I shouldn’t have let myself forget that. I can’t take my happiness at Nikki’s expense.’

  ‘There wouldn’t have been any happiness, not with him.’

  ‘You were right about him. Now you can say I told you so.’

  ‘Do you think I will?’

  ‘No, you’re too good a friend for that.’

  ‘Laura,’ he asked hesitantly, ‘were you very much in love with him?’

  She was silent a long time.

  ‘I don’t know,’ she said at last. ‘I thought I was. Now I’m just full of anger and bitterness towards him for reacting like that. If he hadn’t-I don’t know. What’s the point of talking about it now?’

  She finished with a disconsolate sigh. Gino sat down beside her on the bed, and slipped his arm around her.

  ‘You’ve still got your brother,’ he said.

  She gave a shaky laugh. ‘Poor Gino. First Nikki, now me. You ought to set up as an agony aunt.’

  ‘I’m not “poor Gino” and I’d rather you turn to me than anyone else. More Chianti?’

  ‘I’d better not. I’m going to bed now.’

  ‘You’ll feel better in the morning,’ he said, wishing he felt more sure of that. ‘Come along, I’ll walk you home.’

  He escorted her solemnly along the corridor, and opened her bedroom door.

  ‘Thank goodness you were there,’ she mused. ‘It would have been much worse for Nikki otherwise. Goodnight, Gino.’

  ‘Goodnight.’

  When she had closed the door he hesitated, wondering whether to go away or knock and give her another chance to talk.

  After a while he heard the sound of weeping. And then he knew that he had no place here.

  As Laura had predicted, Steve did not call her. Nor did he come into the pub again. He was allowed to fade into the past, and never mentioned by any of them.

  Gino fell into the habit of dropping into The Running Sheep just in time for one drink before Laura was ready to leave. She never had to walk home alone.

  ‘Thank you,’ she said one night.

  ‘What for?’

  ‘Everything,’ she said simply.

  When they’d walked a little further she asked, ‘What happened to your girlfriend, the one with the voluptuous figure.’

  ‘She found a better man. I left the field in defeat.’

  ‘You mean you dumped her?’

  ‘Certainly not,’ he said, shocked. ‘I’m a gentleman. I never dump a lady. I let her dump me.’

  She shot him a sideways glance. As she’d guessed, he was grinning.

  When they got in there was a message waiting for her by the phone. Call Mark.

  ‘Mark?’ Gino queried.

  ‘Just a friend,’ Laura said vaguely. ‘Why don’t you go and put the kettle on?’

  ‘You’ll make an Englishman of me yet,’ he predicted, and headed for the kitchen.

  She joined him a few minutes later and announced that she would have to be out the next evening too, although not at the pub.

  ‘You’ve got a date,’ Gino said.

  ‘No, of course not. I just-have to be out.’

  ‘With Mark.’

  ‘Stop fishing and pour me some tea. Mrs Baxter, you’ll be in tomorrow night, won’t you?’

  ‘Yes, I’ll be here. Gino and I will look after Nikki so you’ll be all right, wherever you’re going.’

  ‘That’s lovely,’ Laura said brightly. ‘Goodnight, you two.’

  She left them and went upstairs. Mrs Baxter muttered, ‘It’s always the same. Mark rings. She drops everything to go out, and won’t tell anyone where she’s going.’

  ‘A woman of mystery,’ Gino mused.

  ‘I’ll say. And it’s no use asking her, because she just clams up.’

  He discovered that this was true. For some reason he felt piqued by Laura’s determination to keep the secret from him.

  ‘I’ll drive you there,’ he offered when she was ready to go the next evening.

  ‘No thanks, I can drive myself.’

  ‘Suppose there’s an emergency? How do I contact you?’

  ‘On my mobile.’

  ‘You’re being very annoying, you know that?’

  ‘Goodnight, Gino.’

  Laura picked up a small bag that she’d set waiting in the hall, and whisked herself off, leaving him staring at the front door, speechless.

  ‘Claudia and Sadie are coming home from holiday tonight,’ Nikki said.

  ‘Not till the early hours,’ Mrs Baxter reminded her.

  ‘And then it’s back to work to the stresses and strains of the packing department,’ Gino mused. ‘I don’t know how I’ll stand the excitement. Goo
d heavens! Whatever’s that?’

  ‘It’s a nut cake,’ Mrs Baxter said, producing it from a cupboard. ‘I bought it this afternoon, for everyone.’

  ‘It’s made with lots and lots of different kinds of nuts,’ Nikki assured him. ‘It’s gorgeous.’

  It was a pleasant evening. Mrs Baxter was an army widow who had travelled extensively, and had a fund of funny stories. But when she had told a few of them she said, ‘Of course the best thing of all is my family. I’m going to become a grandmother some time next month. I’m so looking forward to that.’

  She glanced at Nikki, who had begun to yawn. ‘I think it’s time you went to bed, don’t you?’

  Nikki nodded and agreed without argument. When she’d gone Mrs Baxter produced a bottle of sherry.

  ‘You haven’t eaten your cake yet,’ she told Gino.

  ‘I’ve been too busy laughing at your stories. Don’t you have any more?’

  Before Mrs Baxter could speak the phone rang. She answered it, and Gino saw her turn pale.

  ‘Yes-yes-I’ll be there as quickly as I can,’ she assured someone.

  ‘What is it?’ he asked when she’d hung up.

  ‘That was my son. My daughter-in-law has gone into labour a month early, and there are complications. Oh, dear, I need to go to them as soon as possible.’

  ‘I’ll call you a taxi while you pack,’ he said at once. ‘And I’ll stay here, so Nikki can’t come to any harm.’

  The taxi arrived a few minutes later. Gino saw Mrs Baxter into it and waved her off with many expressions of good luck.

  Now he could he settle down with his uneaten slice of nut cake. It was delicious. After arguing with his conscience for a moment he decided that he could easily buy another cake for the others, and cut himself a second slice. It was as delicious as the first.

  As he mulled over the thought of a third slice, he became aware that something strange was happening. The cake had started to move. Before his eyes it grew larger, then smaller. He reached out to touch it, but it wasn’t where it ought to have been.

  A feeling of nausea attacked him. His head was swelling like a balloon, while his throat became tighter.

  He couldn’t breathe. Struggling to his feet, he kicked the chair over. He fought for air but only managed to make a horrible noise, and tearing open his shirt gave him no relief. The tightness was inside. Iron fingers seemed to grip his throat as though someone was intent on choking the life out of him.