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.’
‘
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
‘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. ‘
‘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.’
Before Lorenzo went to bed he emailed Helen about his arrival. It was meant to be a short note but he got carried away and found himself talking about Bernardo and Angie. Even at this distance she was easy to talk to and the words poured out.
He paused, wondering if he’d said too much. Would she really be interested in all this family stuff? But she’d said she liked the sound of Angie. He hit the Send button quickly, before he could change his mind, and tottered into bed, jet-lagged out of his mind.
Her reply was waiting for him next morning.
‘Thanks,’ Lorenzo murmured with feeling.
