Husband By Necessity

‘Because I have longed for you,’ he said with a sigh. ‘I can’t see you without weakening, and I mustn’t weaken.’

‘Why must you talk like that? Is it weak to love?’

‘It might be weak to yield to love,’ he said sombrely. ‘Amor mia, can’t you understand? You’re a bird of paradise, and Montedoro is a place only for eagles.’

‘But you know so little about me. How do you know I couldn’t be an eagle too?’

‘Don’t-please don’t-you can’t know what you’re saying.’

Yet he was so torn that even as his words rejected her he pulled her closer and her senses swam. The misery in his face hurt her, yet beneath the misery she still sensed a stubbornness that she would have to fight. Suddenly she stopped dancing, seized his hand and began to lead him off the dance floor. She didn’t stop until they were outside, under the stars.

‘Angie-’

‘Shut up and kiss me,’ she said, pulling him into her arms.

Through the trembling of his body she could feel that he would have resisted her if he could, but he hadn’t strength enough for that. Taking her courage in both hands she built on her advantage, kissing him in the ways that he loved, the ways that would call their brief happiness back.

‘You can’t say goodbye to me again,’ she murmured.

‘Angie don’t do this-don’t destroy me-’

‘I’m trying to stop you destroying us both. You want me, don’t you?’

‘You know I want you.’

‘Enough to take my hand and jump into the unknown. That’s all it needs, my love, just a little courage.’

Between the words her lips were sending him other messages of incitement and delight, torturing him with bliss held just out of reach, driving him crazy. With triumph she sensed that he couldn’t hold out against her. She felt his hands in her hair, tearing down the pretty confection that the hairdresser had achieved, so that it felt wildly about her bare shoulders, and his lips followed it, leaving a burning trail against her skin.

‘Don’t tempt me-’ he whispered. ‘Sorceress-I’ll fight you-’

‘I’ll tempt you until you’re brave enough to take any risk with me. If we can’t live in each other’s worlds we’ll make our own.’

‘Don’t-’ he said hoarsely.

‘Yes, my love, take the chance and jump from the highest point of Montedoro, and we’ll fly like eagles together.’

‘It’s crazy-mad-’

‘Don’t think about that. Haven’t you wanted me to kiss you like this?’

‘More than anything in life-but it changes nothing-’

‘It changes everything,’ she said, her lips against his. ‘You’re mine. You belong to me as I belong to you, and I won’t let you go. I don’t care what the difficulties are.’ To desire was suddenly added anger. She seized his shoulders and shook him, her blazing eyes staring into his. ‘We love each other. Doesn’t that count for anything?’

‘Perhaps it counts for less than you think,’ he forced himself to say. ‘Must love be the whole of life? Must it matter more than anything else in the world?’

‘If it’s strong enough-yes,’ she said fiercely.

‘Do you think I don’t love you? Do you think I haven’t lain awake night after night, thinking of you, longing for you, telling myself the world would be well lost if only I could make love with you, just once?’

‘Then make love to me-now-my room’s near-no more questions or decisions-’

‘But with the dawn I regained my sanity. It’s easy to talk of the world well lost, but it never is lost. It stays there, devastated by one foolish action, and we have to live with the consequences of what we’ve done. How quickly do you think we’d come to hate each other if we tried to live together? You couldn’t live my life and I couldn’t live yours. We’d destroy each other. Why can’t you see that?’

‘Because you’re everything to me,’ she cried in passionate anger. ‘And maybe love has made me stupid-stupid enough to believe we can make anything possible if we love enough. But I’d rather be my kind of stupid than yours, believing nothing is possible and love isn’t worth fighting for.’

Suddenly she saw that all her arts, all her passion and determination had achieved nothing. The agonising sensation of her own heart breaking made her step back sharply, repulsing him with a gesture that was almost a blow.

‘If it means so little to you, then maybe it isn’t worth fighting for,’ she cried. ‘Maybe I belong back in my old life, but only because you won’t grant me the dignity of making my own decisions, even when they’re hard. Perhaps we would destroy each other, not for the reason you think, but because I couldn’t live with a man who’s hard, judgemental, and thinks I need him to tell me what to do.

‘Goodbye, Bernardo. I thought I’d made a mistake in coming here, but now I’m glad. It’ll save me indulging in regrets.’

Midnight on the terrace. The house was silent. Far out, the moon was reflected on a tranquil sea. Angie stood looking, trying to imprint the scene on her memory, knowing this was the last time she would ever be here.

‘So he was as much of a stubborn fool as always?’ came Baptista’s ironic voice from the shadows.

‘Yes,’ Angie said bitterly. ‘I thought if he’d missed me as I’ve missed him, it might change things. But nothing changes.’

‘No, nothing changes with Bernardo, and it never will change. He’ll love you all his life, and he’ll suffer for it so dreadfully that it hurts me to think of.’

‘What about my suffering?’ Angie asked wryly.

‘My dear, I know you are in pain, but you will survive, and you will love again-perhaps not as you love him, but enough. You are warm and open-hearted. You know how to embrace life.

‘But Bernardo-’ Baptista sighed ‘-none of this is true of him. He is a hard man, even a harsh one, who doesn’t know how to compromise. He conceals himself, even from himself. One woman-just one-found the way to tempt him out into the sunlight, and if he loses her, I don’t think he’ll ever find the way out again. Think of his life as it will be then. How cold and stunted it will be, and finally how twisted.’

‘I know,’ Angie whispered huskily. ‘When I think of him alone up there, and how happy we could be if only-’ She pressed her lips together, but she couldn’t stop the tears pouring down her face. ‘He thinks I’m only a bird of paradise,’ she said, and the cry broke from her, ‘but I wanted to be an eagle.’

‘Then be an eagle,’ Baptista said trenchantly.

‘How can I if he won’t let me?’

‘Let?’ Baptista’s voice was scathing. ‘Are you that kind of woman, the kind who waits for a man to “let” her? I expected better from you. Do what you believe in. Don’t ask his permission. Weak women say, “if only”. Strong ones make it happen.’

‘Do you think I don’t long to make it happen?’ she demanded. ‘I don’t know the way.’

‘But I do,’ Baptista said, ‘and I’m going to show it to you.’

CHAPTER SIX

IN WINTER Montedoro was a ghostly, deserted place, swathed in mist. Now the boutiques were closed and most of the cafes. Feet echoed on the cobbles and all the colour seemed to have drained away, leaving only grey behind.

With the tourists gone, little more than six hundred people remained, and most of them seemed to have crowded into the narrow street to watch the new arrival. Two vans had drawn up. The front one was disgorging furniture, but not very much, because the new doctor had bought Dr Fortuno’s practice, house and furniture, lock, stock and barrel.

The largest item was a bed which, even in its dismembered state, spoke of quality and money. The head and foot were highly polished walnut, the mattress thick and springy. There would be trouble getting it through those