Her lips and nose were still swollen and blackened.
“Don’t look at me, I’m so ugly.”
The nuns bundled her bloodstained clothes into a carrier bag. “I hope we don’t get arrested,” said Fen.
“I’m afraid the taxis are on strike,” said Billy, putting his arm through hers, “so we’ll have to bus back to the Villa Borghese.”
“Ouch,” said Fen, as a passing Italian pinched her bottom.
The bus came crashing along, fighting for survival in the surging thrusting jam of cars.
“It’s illegal to hoot in Rome,” said Fen.
“Bad luck for owls,” said Billy, as they fought and pummeled their way into the bus. For at least ten seconds they were separated, then Billy fought his way back to her.
“You okay?”
“I need a pencil sharpener for my elbows, and I’ve been goosed by six men.”
“You mean geesed.”
The bus doors closed, shooting another ten people into the body of the bus and ramming Fen against Billy. She arched away from him in embarrassment, but it was no good, the crowd pushed her forward again and she lost hold of the bus strap, cannoning into his arms, which closed round her.
“I’m going to complain to sardine’s lib,” she mumbled in embarrassment.
“I’m not,” said Billy. “Relax.”
Looking up, Fen saw the tenderness in his eyes and looked away quickly. But once again there was something so comforting and solid about him that she let herself relax for the rest of the ride, praying he couldn’t feel her heart hammering.
He loves Janey, she told herself furiously. He’s just being kind.
The rest of the day seemed to pass in a dream. Everyone except Griselda was incredibly nice to her. Malise let her jump Desdemona in a small class to get her nerve back and was highly delighted when she came fourth. With a sense of unreality, she sat in the riders’ stand beside Mr. Block to watch the Grand Prix, which ended up with a jump-off between Piero, Rupert, Ludwig, Wishbone, Billy, and Griselda. Billy, galvanized by the previous day’s double clear, seemed to have got all his old fire and confidence back. Riding as if he’d got a spare neck in his pocket, he knocked three seconds off everyone’s time. Rupert was second.
“Why the hell did I bring you back, when all you do is beat me?” grumbled Rupert as they rode into the ring.
Back at the stables, everyone was beginning to pack up. Griselda watched Georgie working and grumbled, “I’ve got a bloody trek home, being misdirected by that stupid Maxwell child. Let’s hope Malise has learnt his lesson and leaves her out of the team.”
Billy, who was hosing down Bugle’s legs, looked up angrily. “She’s already been selected for Paris and Lucerne.”
“Oh, Christ, don’t say I’ve got to put up with her for the rest of the month. I must get Malise to make other traveling arrangements for her.”
Rupert, who was feeding popcorn to Snakepit, looked across at Billy and raised his eyebrows.
Billy nodded.
“He already has,” said Rupert. “I’ve sold a couple of horses this week, so we’re taking her back.”
“What about Sarah?” said Griselda, in tones of outrage.
“Very pretty,” said Rupert. “She can have my bed in the lorry any time, as long as I’m allowed to share it with her.”
Griselda looked absolutely furious. “The sneaky little thing, actually making other arrangements without telling me. Who’s going to share the petrol and pay for the tolls on the autostrada? Trust her to pull a fast one without telling me.”
“She doesn’t know she’s coming with us yet,” said Billy sweetly, “but knowing how much you and Georgie like the lorry to yourselves, I know she wouldn’t like to cramp your style.”
“Well, on your heads be it if she misroutes you into Romania,” said Griselda crossly.
Billy said good-bye to Mr. Block, who was flying back to London.
“Well done, lad,” he said, pumping Billy’s hand. “I’m highly delighted with the way things have gone. We’re on our way.”
Then Billy found Malise. “Look, I know I ought to foot the bill for dinner tonight, and I’m very happy to, and I’d really like to be with you all, but I thought I’d take Fen somewhere quiet,” he blushed. “I think she needs cheering up.”
Because he knew she was ashamed of her battered face, Billy took Fen to a little dark cave of a restaurant, where they sat in an alcove away from everyone else. She was still feeling fragile, so he ordered her a plain rice risotto with a knob of butter and parmesan, and fed her spoonfuls as though she was a child.
“I’m so proud of you,” she said for the hundredth time. “But this isn’t much of a celebration for you, with me off my food, and both of us drinking Coke.”
Billy put his hand over hers and it felt so right, he left it there.
Afterwards they wandered through the cobbled streets of Rome, past shadowy ruins and floodlit fountains, until they found a secluded stone bench to sit on. There, Billy kissed her very, very gently on her poor sore mouth.
“I’m so glad you didn’t go to bed with that wop the other night.”
He ran his hand down her cheek. It was such a relief not to have to duck her head out of the way so he shouldn’t feel her spots.
“Oh, Billy, I’ve had a crush on you since I was thirteen.”
“On me?” he said, amazed.
“Yes, millions of girls have as well, but you’re too modest or too nice to realize it. It’s the general consensus of opinion that Rupert’s for flings, but you’re the one they want to marry. Not that I’m proposing or anything,” she added, blushing furiously.
Billy kissed her again. She was not quite sure what one did with one’s tongue, so she copied him.
“You’re so sweet,” he murmured, “but I’m too old and battered and bitter for you. You don’t need thirdhand goods.”
“Rubbish,” protested Fen. “What about antiques? They’re third-and fourth-and fifthhand, and they’re infinitely more precious than anything new.”
They walked back to the hotel through the warm, scented night, Fen’s espadrilles crunching on the gravel.
As he opened her bedroom door for her he said, “I’ll knock on your door in twenty minutes, when the coast’s clear.”
Frantically, Fen bathed and cleaned her teeth and sprayed on perfume. Despite the warmth of the night she couldn’t stop shaking. If only she had bigger boobs. Janey was so gloriously top heavy. She looked at Lester the teddy bear, and turned his face to the wall. “I don’t want you to be corrupted.”
Overwhelmed with shyness, conscious of her swollen face, she turned off the lights before she let Billy into the room.
“Do you think we’ll ever find the bed?” he said, as he drew her, frantically trembling, towards him. “Hey, hey, there’s no need to be frightened.”
“That’s what they always say about adders. Look, I know I’m not as sophisticated, or as beautiful, or as witty, or as clever, or as sexy as Janey. Anyone would be a letdown after her.”
“Hush,” he said, stroking the nape of her neck. “Who’s making comparisons?”
“I am, because everyone you go to bed with must remind you of her and it must hurt.”
Billy found the bed and pulled Fen down beside him.
“It’s certainly not hurting at the moment. You’re the one it might hurt.”
“I’ve ridden for so long, I don’t think I’ve got a hymen anymore. I’ve never been able to find it.”
Her little hands were tentatively moving over his chest.
“Still scared?” he whispered. Then, when she didn’t answer, he kissed her upper lip. “I’ll take things very, very slowly. We’ve got all night.”
He was thinking so much about not rushing her, or scaring her, that he hardly worried about his own
