‘Indeed we have. So, Polly is short for Penelope?’
‘Yes, they wanted to call me Penny when I was a kid. But I didn’t like it so I became Polly.’
‘I like Penelope,’ he said, nodding. ‘I learned about her in school: the wife of King Odysseus, who waited for him for twenty years. Penelope the faithful and wise.’
‘Phooey-she was a twerp,’ Polly said firmly. ‘You wouldn’t catch me waiting twenty years without even a postcard!’
He was unwise enough to answer this. ‘They didn’t have postcards in those-’ He stopped as he caught her eyes on him, brimming with fun.
‘But somehow I end up being wise despite trying not to be,’ she said. ‘At school it was always me warning the others that their daft pranks would lead to trouble, and then fibbing my head off to rescue them when it happened. I’ve always longed to be wild and outrageous. I try hard, I really do, but it doesn’t come naturally to me. I planned all sorts of careers-actress, fashion designer, international bond saleswoman-anything, as long as I could rule the world.’
‘But there are plenty of other people doing that,’ he said, grinning as he refilled her glass. ‘Be original.’
‘Yeah, I make a great doormat.’
‘Stop that,’ he warned. ‘You’re talking like an FCP again, and I won’t allow it.’
They clinked glasses, sharing their amusement, and for once Sapphire was nowhere.
‘Anyway,’ she said, glowing with joy at the warmth, the lights, the look in his eyes, and just possibly the wine, ‘for tonight I’m just going to be Cinderella at the ball.’
‘Is Cinderella ready for the next course?’
They passed on to to Neapolitan rococo-a sweet dish that seemed to contain everything from toasted almonds to candied peel of orange, flavoured with cinnamon, nutmeg, cloves. Polly closed her eyes in pure ecstasy.
‘That’s it,’ Ruggiero said, satisfied. ‘That’s what I wanted to see. Have some more.’
‘Yes, please!’
Their perfect accord continued until they were drinking coffee and liqueurs, when she happened to say, ‘Talking as a nurse again, how are you managing now that you’re back at work?’
‘There’s plenty to do. I’m not very popular at the moment, after wrecking our new prototype.’
‘But that wasn’t your fault.’
‘It wasn’t the machine’s fault. It was working fine until I lost control. Everyone could see that, but they don’t know why. The mechanics have been over everything again and again-but how do I tell them to stop bothering because it was only me seeing things that weren’t there? I don’t want them thinking I’m off my head, even if I am.’
‘I can see that it might be a problem,’ she admitted.
‘And the next thing will be potential customers drawing back, wondering what’s wrong with it.’
‘What will you tell them?’
‘Nothing. I’ll have to demonstrate. It’s lucky the rodeo is coming up.’
‘Rodeo? With motorbikes?’
‘Yes. We call it a rodeo, but actually it’s a glorified bikers’ meeting. It’s a gathering of some of the best speedway riders in Italy, or even the world. We get riders from all over.’
‘And they’ll ride your machine to glory?’ Polly asked.
He didn’t answer, but she saw the wry look on his face and the truth hit her.
‘Oh, no!’ she said explosively. ‘Definitely no. You can forget that idea right now.’
‘It’s what I have to do.’
‘After what happened-’
‘Especially after what happened. Just let them get the idea that one fall frightened me and the machine will get a bad name.’
‘You mean you’ll get a bad name,’ she accused him. ‘They’ll say you’re chicken.’
‘Well, I certainly don’t want to hear any clucking behind my back.’
‘Let them cluck. You have more important things to consider. If you have one more fall like the last there’s no knowing what will happen. How often do you think a man can land on his head without damaging his brains?’
A sulphurous silence.
‘Why don’t you add the next bit?’ he demanded at last.
‘What next bit?’
‘The bit you’re dying to say-if he had any brains in the first place.’
‘I was being polite,’ she said acidly.
‘Why bother at this late date?’
It was astonishing how quickly a mood of sweet accord could descend into acrimony.
‘Anyway, you’ve said it for me now,’ she said crossly.
‘Fine, I’m brainless-so there’s nothing to damage. Polly, don’t make so much of it. Nothing will happen. I’ll be more careful this time.’
‘Phooey! You’re never careful.’
‘You don’t know that.’
‘Anyone who’s been acquainted with you for five minutes would know that. Ruggiero, listen to me-you are not going to do this, even if I have to stand in front of the bike to stop you.’
He regarded her sceptically. ‘Cinderella didn’t last very long, did she?’
‘Cinderella never had to deal with a man who deluded himself with macho fantasies and had the common sense of a newt. And that’s an insult to newts.’
He laughed at that, and Polly let the subject drop. But only because she planned to return to it at a more propitious time.
When it was time to leave Ruggiero didn’t pay, but scribbled a note.
By now Polly was beginning to see a pattern.
‘Let me guess,’ she said as they left. ‘You own half of this place as well. And probably several others.’
‘Not half. Maybe a quarter here and there. It keeps me in touch with my friends. What is it?’ He’d noticed her frowning.
‘I just wondered if there’s anything you own the whole of,’ she mused.
‘Not that I recall. Why? Does it matter?
‘You’ve got a finger in so many pies, but you never risk your entire hand. Is that the answer? That you’re reluctant to commit yourself totally? Always keeping something back?’
‘Aren’t you forgetting that I was willing to commit totally to Sapphire?’
‘Were you? Are you so sure?’
‘What do you mean by that?’
‘I mean that it was never put to the test so you can believe what you like. Be honest, Ruggiero, we’ll never know.’
He stopped and stared at her. ‘Is that really what you think of me?’
‘No, it’s what I wonder about you. You blamed Sapphire because she didn’t turn to you when she was ill. But maybe-’ She checked herself and groaned. ‘I did it, didn’t I? I raised the ghost. You’re right. I do it as often as you. Maybe more.’
Polly closed her eyes and pressed her hands to her forehead. ‘Let me go,’ she whispered to someone neither of them could see. ‘Go away.’
She turned, and would have started to run, but he grasped her quickly.
‘No, I’m not going to lose sight of you again. You might never come back.’
‘Perhaps it’s better if I don’t. My job here is nearly done. Let me go.’
‘No,’ he said drawing her close.
‘Ruggiero,’ she said, almost pleading. ‘Don’t-’
But the formal protest didn’t fool him, as she had known it wouldn’t. His lips were on hers, silencing her, saying all that needed to be said without words.
There was nothing to do now but banish regrets and yield herself up to the greatest joy she had ever known.
Everywhere the lights were going out, and when he drew her into a corner there was only darkness about
