The Wedding Arrangement

‘Darling, I’m so sorry,’ she said. ‘I didn’t mean to be indiscreet, but I forgot it was so early.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘This morning, when I called and the phone was picked up by that young lady. She sounded charming, but of course I got off the line at once.’

It dawned on him what she was talking about.

‘No, Mamma, it’s not like that.’

‘Nonsense. When a young lady answers a man’s phone at seven in the morning it’s always “like that”.’

He looked around and found Minnie’s eyes on him. Of course she could guess every word his mother was saying. In outrage he turned his back on her.

‘Mamma, listen to me-’

‘Yes, my son,’ she said and obligingly fell silent.

That stumped him. It had been the bane of his life that he had a mother who listened. Unlike other mothers, she didn’t brush his explanations aside, thus giving him a permanent excuse-‘But Mamma, I tried to tell you-’ She simply sat there waiting, while he tied himself in knots.

Comparing notes with his brothers, he had found them all similarly afflicted. It had made growing up very hard. Now she was doing it again.

‘You’ve got the wrong idea,’ he growled.

‘I hope not. I thought she sounded very nice. There was something in her voice, a soft vibration that’s always there when a woman has a passionate nature.’

‘Mamma.’

But then she surprised him with a great burst of laughter that rang down the line.

‘Don’t be silly, Luke, I’m only joking. She was probably the chamber maid bringing you an early breakfast. I expect you were in the shower.’

‘Yes,’ he said, filled with relief.

‘It was wrong of me to tease you, but I would be pleased to think you were forgetting Olympia so soon.’

‘Olympia?’ he asked blankly. ‘Oh, yes-Olympia.’

When he hung up a few minutes later he saw Minnie regarding him with a look he chose to interpret as cynical amusement.

‘Do you mind telling me what you said to my mother?’ he demanded.

‘Very little. It was mostly of the “um-er” variety, and she needed no encouragement to think what you think she was thinking. She plainly believes that women clamour for a scrap of your attention and swoon with desolation if you don’t look their way.’

He had been going to tell her that it was Hope’s idea of a joke, but before he could do so she added, ‘This was your first night in Rome and she reckoned you’d pulled already? Who are you? Casanova?’

‘In my mother’s estimation, yes.’

‘Or did she think there was a simpler explanation, and that money came into it somewhere?’

‘No, she knows I don’t have to use money. At least, not in the sense you mean.’

‘Is there another sense?’ she demanded, aghast.

‘I have been known to buy a lady dinner and the best champagne before a night of mutual pleasure. But nothing as crude as you’re suggesting.’

Of course he wouldn’t, Minnie thought before she could stop herself. This man would never have to pay a woman to get into his bed. The thought didn’t improve her opinion of him. If anything, it added to his sins.

‘I’m sure my mother never suggested any such thing,’ he added.

‘No she was very kind and assured me that she “quite understood perfectly”. I suppressed the impulse to tell her that hell would freeze over first.’

‘First?’ he asked innocently. ‘First before what?’

She regarded him icily. ‘Before you wrap me round your little finger the way you’ve done with the others. Netta, cara.’ She turned to embrace Netta who’d appeared beside her. ‘I must be going to my office now.’

‘Then you can give Signor Cayman a lift to the Contini,’ Netta suggested quickly.

‘I don’t think-’ Minnie began.

‘But of course you can. It’s just a little way past the Via Veneto.’

‘The Via Veneto?’ Luke queried.

‘That’s where my office is,’ Minnie said. ‘I’ll give you a lift if you wish. Goodbye, Netta. I’ll see you tonight.’

Luke didn’t speak until they were on the road.

‘I thought your office was in the Residenza. That was the address on your letters.’

‘You might say I have two practices,’ Minnie said. ‘There’s my official one in the Via Veneto, and my unofficial one here in Trastevere.’

‘And the unofficial one is for friends, relatives-any of the locals likely to end up in a police cell?’ he hazarded.

‘I also act for my neighbours when they need help with a tyrannical, money-grubbing-’

‘Meaning me?’

‘No, meaning Renzo Tanzini. I fought him for ages and then he-’ She checked herself suddenly. ‘This isn’t the time.’

‘No, this is where I thank you for helping me out. Send me your bill, and Charlie’s, and I’ll settle them promptly.’

‘There’s no need for that.’

‘It’s a good chance for me to get into Netta’s good graces.’

‘Surely you’ve managed that already?’

‘And that makes you madder than anything, doesn’t it? In your ideal world she’d hate me as much as you do.’

‘I don’t hate you, Signor Cayman, I merely require fair dealings for your tenants.’

‘And you don’t think you’ll get them from me?’

‘The tone of your letters didn’t inspire hope.’

‘The tone of your letters made me think of an elderly harpy with hobnailed boots.’

She gave a wicked chuckle that he found oddly pleasing. ‘And I’ll crush you, wait and see.’

He barely heard the words. Something in her voice had alerted him and, against his will, he found himself remembering Hope’s words. ‘…a soft vibration that’s always there when a woman has a passionate nature…’

Nonsense. Hope had invented it to tease him, and the power of auto-suggestion made him hear it now. Nevertheless, he found himself trying to provoke her into a response.

‘I’m sure you’ll try.’

‘Oh, I’ll do it,’ she promised, ‘but not just yet.’

Did he imagine it, or was there a special vibration in her tone as she said the last words?

They had reached the Via Veneto and were gliding along its length.

‘Which office is yours?’ he asked.

‘Up there on the left.’

He studied it as they went past, and was impressed. He made the rest of the journey in thoughtful silence, breaking it only briefly when she dropped him at the hotel. She barely acknowledged his goodbye, speeding away in a dashing style that he couldn’t help admiring.

His phone rang. It was Olympia, the girl he’d ‘lost’ a couple of days ago. It felt like a couple of years, so much had happened.

‘Luke, are you all right?’

He stretched out on the bed. ‘Of course I am. Don’t worry about me.’

‘It’s just that you left so suddenly, and I didn’t have a chance to say goodbye-and thank you.’

Her voice was sweet and husky, and now he remembered how it could entrance him. That, too, seemed to have slipped into the past a little.

‘How’s Primo?’ he asked.