Married Under the Italian Sun

special lady”, how he’d dreamed of seeing it about your neck.’

Tell them a good tale, darling, Joe had said. I must have said something charming and romantic, but you fill in the details.

‘Now it’s around another woman’s neck,’ Mack continued remorselessly. ‘Don’t try to pretend it isn’t the same one.’

‘OK, it’s the same one. Joe wanted it back and I agreed as part of our divorce settlement.’

‘Did he leave you with any jewellery at all?’ Mack asked shrewdly.

‘You don’t understand. This is my new life. I don’t need all those baubles. He’s welcome to them.’ She gave a faint, bored yawn. ‘To be honest, I was getting rather tired of that life. It looks fun from the outside-clothes, money, jewels, parties-but then you start to realise you’re on a treadmill. The same party seems to come round again and again.

‘I can remember one night when I got confused and thanked someone for a wonderful evening, thinking she was the hostess. Actually I’d been to a party at her house the previous week. The real hostess was someone I’d been talking to several minutes before, and I have a horrible feeling that I said it was a dull evening.’

Mack laughed and urged her on. ‘So the whole life was beginning to pall?’

‘Yes, it was. I found I wanted something more, something I was never going to find under the glittering lights.’

‘Can you remember when this feeling started?’

Angel took a deep breath. She’d known this moment would come, and now there was no turning back.

‘Yes, it started when I lost my baby,’ she said simply.

Mack’s face showed his amazement. This was one story that had never got out. Mercifully, he had the tact to keep silent while she went on,

‘It happened in the third month. I wanted a baby with all my heart, and, when I lost it, I was devastated. Nothing was the same after that. I was a different person and Joe-well, as I say, we began to drift apart.’

Once she’d sworn never to give such an interview, and now it hurt as much as she’d known it would. But it was the only way to earn enough to protect those who relied on her. And, as she went on talking, she had the comforting feeling that she was fighting off enemies, watching them retreat.

Mack pressed for more. He would have liked her to bad-mouth Joe, but she saw what he was up to and shook her head.

‘I’ve already given you a real exclusive,’ she said. ‘I’ve filled my part of the bargain.’

‘Sure, you’ve really earned your money, I’ll give you that. But Joe doesn’t come out of it well-’

‘Not through anything I’ve said,’ she interrupted him firmly. ‘Now, hush up, Mack, and I’ll tell you something else. I didn’t want anyone to know that I’d miscarried, so three days later I did a TV show.’

His eyes lit up. ‘The show must go on, huh? That was very brave.’

‘Not really, because I was living in a trance, and between doing a show, or telling people the reason why not, it was easier to do the show.’

‘But didn’t your husband-?’

‘Mack, it was my decision, nothing to do with Joe. I’m my own woman, you know. Always was, always will be.’

‘I reckon there’s a lot more to you than meets the eye-oh, thanks, yes, I will have another whisky.’

This last was addressed to Vittorio, hovering like a shadow with the decanter. Angel was startled. She hadn’t known he was there.

He refilled Mack’s glass before asking,

‘Something for you, signora?’ He leaned closer to her to ask, ‘A cup of tea?’

‘I’d love a cup of tea,’ she said at once, wondering what instinct had led him to the perfect conclusion. It was almost as though he were inside her head.

And as he turned to leave Angel almost thought she felt a comforting hand on her shoulder. But it was so light that she might have imagined it.

When the tea arrived it was just how she liked it, and it gave her the energy to carry on. In the end it was Mack who yawned.

‘I was up at four this morning,’ he said. ‘Can we finish this tomorrow?’

‘Sure.’

In the hall she said goodnight to him and the photographers, then returned to the kitchen to thank Berta for the meal.

‘And for the tea,’ she said. ‘It was perfect.’

‘As good as the English?’ Berta asked slyly.

‘Better than the English.’ They laughed and Angel looked around. ‘Where’s Vittorio?’

‘He left, padrona. But he will be here tomorrow. He said so.’

‘That’s lovely.’

It was absurd to feel disappointed, but she’d been sure he would wait and talk to her. There was nothing to do but go to bed and lie there in the darkness, feeling lonely, until she fell asleep and her dreams were haunted by the sound of fading footsteps.

CHAPTER SIX

IN THE morning Angel rose, telling herself that this would be over soon. Not long to go now, just a few more hours.

More pictures, outside, by the railings, looking down onto the long drop. She was co-operative, suggesting new poses, making the photo session last as long as possible. As she posed she glanced around for Vittorio, but there was no sign of him. He would be at the house, she told herself.

But, when they returned indoors, he wasn’t there.

The cameramen were packing up and there was no way of putting Mack off any longer.

‘Let’s talk about Gavin Alford.’

‘Gavin who?’

‘The lad who wrote that tell-all piece about you. Or perhaps you didn’t see it?’

‘Yes, I saw it, but I promise you there was very little “all” to tell. We were young, we dated, we broke up.’

‘Because of Joe’s money?’

Angel managed a tinkling laugh. ‘Good heavens, no. Gavin was history by then. Not that he was ever anything much. He meant well, but his conversation was rather limited.’

Remembering Gavin’s well-paid lies, she reckoned she could allow herself that little bit of revenge.

It was nearly over. Soon she would be free of them.

But Mack had one final shot.

‘Your baby-what sort of plans did you have? Had you chosen any names yet?’

Out of sight Angel clenched her hands, but there was no sign of strain in her voice as she spoke. ‘I didn’t know if it was a boy or a girl and it was too soon to think of names…’

That wasn’t true. She’d made lists of names, both male and female, but Joe hadn’t been interested. He’d simply refused to discuss their child, either when she had been carrying it or after she’d lost it.

But she wouldn’t say that. Instead, she talked around the subject for ten minutes, and Mack seemed satisfied.

At last it was over. They were making moves toward the front door.

But then someone said, ‘Hey, did you hear…?’ and they stopped again, prolonging the farewell by a few more excruciating minutes.

‘Yes,’ Angel heard herself saying. ‘Isn’t that fascinating? Yes-yes-’

If they didn’t go soon she thought she would start to scream.

Then she heard Vittorio’s voice, breaking into the inanities.

‘Let me help you with your bags, signore.’