‘Not quarrelling,’ she said quickly, ‘bickering.’
‘Don’t sugar it. I was probably just as much of an ill-tempered swine in those days.’
‘No, you weren’t. You liked your own way, but you laughed a lot.’
He gave a grunt. ‘I don’t remember.’
No, she thought sadly. This wasn’t the man she’d known, but another man who couldn’t even recall who he himself had been. For a dreadful moment she wanted to walk out and never come back.
But she ignored the impulse. It was too soon to give up hope.
‘But you remember me?’ she asked, a touch wistfully.
‘Only in the sense that I knew I’d seen your face before-somewhere. When I was in hospital I had some strange dreams, and you were often there.’
‘But you didn’t know if I was real or some mad sprite conjured up to torment you?’
‘Something like that. I’m beginning to understand now.’
‘A mad sprite?’
‘Definitely.’
He spoke forcefully, but couldn’t suppress a wince of pain.
‘Enough for now,’ she said. ‘We’ll talk when you’re feeling better.’
‘Who says we will? You’re very free about giving orders in my house. I want that whisky.’
‘No whisky.’
‘Be damned to you!’
‘Anything you say. I’m awkward, interfering, overstepping the mark. But if you remember anything about me, that shouldn’t surprise you.’
‘You’ll leave this house now if you’ve got any sense.’
‘Oh, I never had any of that.’
‘Just go anyway, will you?’ he said in a harsh voice. ‘Please go.’
Mandy almost ran out of the room. Despite her combative tone, her heart was breaking. She’d thought she was prepared for the worst, but the reality was more terrible than anything she’d foreseen.
Safe out of sight, she leaned back against the wall, tears streaming down her face, whispering, ‘No, no… please…no, it can’t be…It mustn’t be…Oh, my love…my love…’
She put up her hands to hide her face and remained there, helpless with grief, until a soft touch on her arm made her glance up to see Teresa.
‘This way,’ Teresa said softly, drawing her away until they reached the kitchen.
Mandy collapsed into a chair at the table, laid her head down on her arms and sobbed without restraint. Teresa wisely left her to it while she got on with making coffee.
Finally Mandy managed to pull herself together and drink from the cup Teresa had laid by her elbow.
‘I’m sorry,’ she said huskily.
‘Don’t be sorry. Better this way.’
It was true. The explosion had left her with a sense of relief.
‘I’m Mandy,’ she said.
‘Did you let him scare you? You shouldn’t.’
‘Aren’t you scared?’
‘Not me. I was working for his family when he was a little boy.’
‘Were you here when his mother left?’
‘You know about that? How?’
‘He told me.’
‘He
‘Maybe that’s it. We were trapped together in the avalanche, and he thought he was going to die. We both did.’
‘So it was you,’ Teresa said, looking at her shrewdly.
‘How do you mean?’
‘You were on that mountain with him.’
‘Does he ever talk about me?’ Mandy asked eagerly.
‘It’s the way he refuses to talk about you that’s always made me wonder. He said there was someone there, but then he clammed up. I’ve never known whether she’d really gone from his mind, or whether he was trying to drive her away. He’s been that way ever since his bitch of a mother left. He buries everything inside and there are things he won’t let anyone speak of. I looked after him then, and I’m still doing it.’
Teresa was silent for a moment, and Mandy had the impression that she knew much and spoke little.
‘Did you see the wheelchair?’ Teresa asked, pouring some more coffee.
‘Yes, tucked away in the corner.’
‘He never uses it if he can help it. And nobody on the “work” side of the house is even supposed to know about it. They all do, of course, but they pretend not to. The door’s always locked so that they can’t wander in here.’
A locked door, Mandy thought. Somehow that seemed to say everything about Renzo now.
‘There was a time,’ Teresa continued, ‘when this place was like a harem. Do you know how many women chased him?’
‘I’ve got a good idea.’
‘Now, he tries to avoid women. He doesn’t like them to see him as he is now.’
‘It’s horrible,’ Mandy whispered.
‘Yes, it is,’ Teresa agreed. ‘I’m afraid for him, because if something doesn’t happen soon, I think he’ll go mad.’
The bell rang from the next room.
‘That’s him,’ Teresa said. ‘I must go to him.’
Mandy stayed in the kitchen, trying to work out what she would say when she next saw Renzo.
Today had been a shock, yet she supposed she should have expected it. How unreal now seemed her dreams of instant reconciliation. She shouldn’t have turned up without warning. When she next saw him, she would try to repair the damage and start again.
Teresa returned a few moments later, seeming troubled.
‘He wants you to go,’ she said.
‘But I must talk to him again.’
‘He says I’m not to let you back in under any circumstances, and he means it. When he’s in that mood you can’t argue with him. Shall I call you a taxi?’
‘No need. My hotel is just in the next street.’
She named it, but Teresa shook her head.
‘He won’t change his mind. He’s as stubborn as granite these days.’
There was nothing for Mandy to do but leave. As she walked away from the house she couldn’t resist glancing back, although she knew it was pointless. He wouldn’t be looking out to catch a glimpse of her. Renzo had bolted and barred himself from all the world and there was no way in, even for her. The man she’d longed to find was dead after all: as dead as if he’d never lived.
CHAPTER SIX
THE thought of staring at four walls was intolerable so, instead of returning to the hotel, Mandy walked the streets of Milan until she was tired.
At last she wandered back to the hotel and put through a call to her flat in England. It was answered by Sue, the friend she’d told Renzo about, long ago, who now lived with her.
