Married Under the Italian Sun

struck him like a cry for help.

But he didn’t know how to help her, and suddenly he wanted to smash something.

Once outside, Angel fled across the hall. When Berta came out from the kitchen, suggesting coffee, she thanked her and declined, then fled up to her room, unable to face even the simplest conversation.

When her bedroom door had closed behind her she let the tension drain from her body and almost fell onto the bed. For a long time she didn’t move, just stared into the distance, trying to fight the miserable lethargy that was taking her over.

The last time this had happened was on the night of the quiz show, just as she had gone out into the lights. But that had lasted only briefly. This was swamping her.

It had started in the dark days after she had lost her baby, but she had told herself that she was over them now. Then something would happen to show her that she was mistaken.

The air about her was thrumming, and Vittorio seemed to be there with her again, holding her, losing control, coming to the danger point and taking her with him because her rioting desire matched his own.

That was it. That was what had been lying in wait from the beginning, the thing she had refused to face, that wouldn’t be denied any longer.

Then something inside her had failed at the crucial moment. But for that…Angel drew a long breath. Don’t think of it. Don’t give him the upper hand.

She pulled herself together, seizing the magazine she had grabbed and trying to focus on the words. Gavin seemed to come from another life, and the handsome, stupid face on the page brought back no memories. The more recent picture showed her that he still bore traces of good looks, although growing beefy.

I didn’t dump him for Joe, she thought indignantly. I dumped him because he didn’t want Sam. He hasn’t even mentioned Sam in that piece. Not that I’d want him to.

Toni, who’d slipped into the room behind her, began to clamour for attention.

‘OK, let’s go for a walk,’ she said.

It was an aimless walk, but they both liked it that way. There was something comforting in the company of a creature who didn’t expect her to be always striking attitudes. Whatever she wanted to do was fine by him, whether it was wandering, lying down under some trees, or dozing off. When he found her motionless and breathing steadily, he simply curled up in the crook of her arm and stayed with her as the hours passed and the light faded.

Berta was just sitting down for a coffee when Vittorio dropped in late that evening.

‘Come and have one,’ she called, fetching him a cup. ‘In fact, have some supper. There’s plenty to spare.’

He accepted gratefully, eating in silence until he had the energy to say, ‘That’s better. I wasn’t looking forward to going home and feeding myself.’

‘No, you’ve been spoilt,’ Berta said, with the frankness of long service.

‘Spoilt by you,’ he agreed. ‘I just looked in to give our mistress a report of some of the things that need doing, and how much it’s going to cost her to do them.’

‘She’s not home,’ Berta said. ‘She went out with Toni hours ago and neither of them have come back. I thought she might have gone to town but her car’s here.’

‘But it’s dark,’ Vittorio said, with a worried glance out of the window. ‘Has she been out there all this time?’

‘Don’t tell me you’re concerned for her,’ Berta said. ‘I thought you hated her.’

‘I don’t hate her,’ Vittorio said awkwardly, adding, as though explaining a weakness, ‘She’s good to the dogs, no matter what they do.’ He gave a faint grin. ‘She even bought cheap clothes so that they could make a mess of them.’

‘Yes, I saw. And she doesn’t look the same any more. She’s not what we thought.’ When Vittorio didn’t answer, she said insistently, ‘Is she?’

‘I’m not sure,’ he mused, remembering what had happened only a few hours ago.

‘Did I tell you, she knows all about those murals? When I showed them to her she kept saying, “Ah! That one was painted by…”’

‘And was she right?’

‘What do I know about pictures? But she knows. And she’s speaking Italian better and better after just a week or so. She must have learned it in the past. I wonder why. Just as I wonder why she’s doing up those rooms.’

‘Which rooms?’

‘The ones at the end. That big one and two smaller ones. She’s putting beds in them all.’

‘Beds? Downstairs?’

‘She’s having them brought down from upstairs, and the rooms are being spring-cleaned.’

‘But what does she say about it?’

‘Just that she has some friends coming. She has her own ways of doing things. She’s the padrona. I can’t make her tell me if she doesn’t want to. Perhaps she’ll tell you.’

‘I wouldn’t dream of asking.’

‘Perhaps she’s bringing her glamorous friends. They’ll have an orgy and it’ll be in all the glossy magazines.’

‘You should be ashamed of yourself, a respectable woman, talking like that,’ Vittorio said severely. ‘What do you know about orgies?’

‘Only what I’ve read,’ Berta sighed regretfully. ‘But I know they drink a lot at them, so perhaps I should ask her about getting in some more wine.’

‘You’ll do no such thing. Anyway, it wouldn’t be in all the glossy magazines. It would only be in one, an exclusive, and they’d pay for it. That’s how it’s done in her world. Sell it for the highest price. Just let her try that here. Just let her try it!’

‘You couldn’t stop her,’ Berta said gently.

He grimaced. ‘That’s true. And it’s time I went to look for her. Whatever she’s up to, I can’t leave her wandering around in a place she doesn’t know. Come on, Luca.’

Together they went out into the darkness.

He wondered if he’d taken leave of his senses. This morning he’d attacked the young oaf in the shop for daring to refer to her reputation. But an hour later she’d been with him, shamelessly flaunting herself, a tease, leading a man on, deserving everything she got.

That was what the world would say, and that cynical, easy judgement would have been his own if he hadn’t felt her collapse and seen the light fade and die in her eyes. He knew that he had to find out what was hurting her inside, and until he did he wouldn’t know what to think of her.

Yes, he’d taken leave of his senses.

With no idea which direction to take, the man followed the dog, who seemed sure of himself. After half an hour walking, aided by moonlight, he thought he heard noises from the trees just ahead.

‘Hey!’ he called again. ‘Where are you?’

For answer, he received a squeak, and the next moment Toni came scampering towards him. Vittorio fondled him with relief.

‘So where is she?’ he asked. ‘Go on. I’ll follow.’

He had to move fast before Toni vanished into the shadows, but, by following the grunts, Vittorio finally located Angel, sitting on the ground beneath a tree, her arms crossed over her body, rocking back and forth.

‘What are you doing out here?’ he asked, dropping to his knees beside her.

Her only answer was a little gasp. Looking closely in the gloom, Vittorio saw that her eyes were closed.

‘Come on,’ he said, taking hold of her.

‘Go away,’ she whispered.

‘I’m not going to go away and leave you here,’ he said. ‘It’s not safe for you to be out alone. What’s happened to you? Earlier today you were ready to tell the world to go to hell, especially me.’

‘It’s all an act,’ she said wanly. ‘I can’t make it last.’

‘Angel-’

‘Don’t!’ she said harshly. ‘Don’t call me Angel. She doesn’t exist.’

‘I thought that’s who you were.’

‘No, it’s who I pretended to be for eight years. My name is Angela, and that’s who I am. At least-I think I am-I