Wife By Arrangement

couldn’t meet her eye.

Even so, it wasn’t real. She felt as though she were floating in a place where there was no sensation, and from where she could look down on a woman in a bridal gown, staring disaster in the face. It was somebody else.

‘What has happened? Where is Lorenzo?’

Nobody had seen Baptista approach down the aisle. Now she was there, a tiny, commanding figure, clinging to Enrico’s arm, looking from one to the other. ‘Where is Lorenzo?’ she repeated.

For a ghastly moment nobody knew how to answer her. Then there was a small commotion outside, and a boy of about sixteen hurried in and came to a nervous halt at the sight of the group. He gulped, thrust a sheet of paper into the bridal bouquet, and ran for his life.

She was floating again, watching the bride carefully remove the paper and hand the beautiful flowers to the bridesmaid. There wasn’t even an envelope, just something in pencil on a sheet. It was scrawled, as though it had been written in a hurry, or great agitation, or both.

Dearest, darling Heather,

Please forgive me. I wouldn’t have done it like this if there had been any other way, but Renato was so set on this marriage that I haven’t known whether I was coming or going.

I do love you-I think. And maybe if things had happened naturally between us we would have married anyway, in time. We had a lovely romance, didn’t we? If only it could have stayed that way. But Renato descended on us in London. It suited him for us to marry, and you know the rest.

And then he was injured and you saved him. You looked so marvellous to me that night that marriage didn’t seem so bad any more. And suddenly everything was arranged and I was practically an old married man before I’d had time to enjoy being young.

I came back from Stockholm early to talk to you, explain why we ought to postpone everything for a while, but Renato made me ‘see reason’ (his words).

So I suppose when I set out this morning I really meant to go through with it. But when I was sitting in the cathedral I suddenly knew I couldn’t.

Try to forgive me. I still think you’re wonderful.

Lorenzo.

The silence seemed to be singing in Heather’s ears, but it was a strange kind of silence that sounded almost like laughing. The whole world was laughing. Slowly she lowered the sheet of paper, staring into space.

Lorenzo wasn’t coming. He’d never loved her very much, never truly wanted to marry her at all. Renato had wanted their marriage, ‘because it suited him.’ For his own convenience he’d moved them around like puppets, pulling strings here, bending the truth a little there. No wonder he’d welcomed her so enthusiastically.

Behind her she heard Renato’s furious Sicilian curse, ‘Malediri!’ and understood that he’d read the letter over her shoulder. As if drawn by a magnet she turned to look at him and saw his eyes full of shock. It had drained the colour from beneath his tan, so that he looked almost the same as in the ambulance, the night he’d nearly died.

He met her gaze. For once he wasn’t in command. He looked as she felt, like someone who’d received a savage blow in the stomach. Later Heather was to remember that, but now it made little impact. She still had the sense of floating above everything.

Curious relatives had started to drift up the aisle to get a better look. More and more of them came as the news whispered through the congregation that something had gone horribly, excitingly wrong.

‘What does he say?’ Angie whispered.

Receiving no answer, she took the page from Heather’s nerveless fingers. Bernardo too contrived to read it, then raised his head to meet Renato’s eyes, his own angry and astonished. ‘I’ll find him, bring him back-’

‘No!’ Heather said violently. Her head cleared and she looked round at them. ‘Do you think I’d marry him now?’

‘Heather, he doesn’t really mean it,’ Bernardo pleaded.

‘I mean it. Do you think I’m so desperate for a wedding ring that I’ll marry a man at gunpoint? How dare you!’

He nodded. ‘Forgive me! It was a foolish thing to say.’

Her strength was coming back. Inwardly she was screaming, and some time very soon there would be bitter tears. But right now she seemed to be made of pure pride, and it would sustain her until she was alone. If only she could run away now, and hide from the crowd who’d witnessed her humiliation. But she wouldn’t run. She wouldn’t hide. She would face them with her head up.

‘Right,’ she said calmly. ‘That’s that, then. We’d better go home.’ She looked Renato in the eye. ‘You brought me. You can take me back.’

There was a look of pure admiration in his eyes, if she hadn’t been too angry to see it. But her anger faded as she looked at Baptista, who had been standing there in silence. The old woman looked wretchedly ill and frail.

‘I’m sorry, Mamma. This is terrible for you too.’

Baptista managed a tired smile. ‘Try to forgive my son, if you can. He means well, but he always did what was easiest. I spoiled and indulged him, and this is the result.’

‘None of this is your fault,’ Heather said emphatically. She looked directly at Renato, but didn’t underline the look with words.

‘You’re very kind, my dear,’ Baptista said faintly. ‘Very kind-’ she swayed and her eyes closed.

‘Mamma!’ Renato said sharply, and put his arms out just in time.

‘Lay her down,’ Angie said, turning in a moment from a bridesmaid into a doctor. She knelt beside Baptista, felt her heart, frowning.

‘Is it a heart attack?’ Renato asked tensely, kneeling on the other side.

‘I’m not sure. It may not be too serious, but she needs to get to the hospital.’

Renato raised his mother in his arms. ‘Mamma,’ he said urgently. ‘Mamma! Miu Diu!’ Still carrying her, he strode to the door. ‘The hospital is close. We’ll go straight there.’

‘Leave the guests to us,’ Enrico said. ‘We’ll take them home, see they’re fed, and get rid of them.’

‘Thank you,’ Bernardo said fervently, following his brother.

‘What do we do?’ Angie asked Heather.

‘We follow,’ Heather said firmly. ‘I love her too.’

Outside they commandeered one of the wedding cars and directed the driver. They reached the hospital to find Bernardo and Renato in the corridor, pacing about.

‘Is there any news?’ Heather asked, not looking at Renato. She wanted to pretend that he didn’t exist. Her mind was so full of misery and turmoil that it was only by concentrating on Baptista that she could keep from screaming.

‘Not yet, but I’m sure she’ll be all right,’ Bernardo said. ‘She’s had giddy spells before, and always recovered.’

‘But each one brings her closer to the end,’ Renato said wretchedly. ‘Her heart could give out at any time; we’ve always known that.’

‘I think you’re being too gloomy,’ Angie said firmly. ‘It didn’t look like a heart attack to me. Just a faint. And I am a doctor, don’t forget.’

Bernardo threw her a grateful look, and Heather didn’t miss the way he squeezed Angie’s hand, or the reassuring smiles they exchanged. How right they seemed together: as perfect for each other as she had once thought she and Lorenzo-

A shuddering gasp broke from her, and for a moment her eyes filled with tears. Through the blur she could see the magnificence of her dress swirling around her. At this moment she should be kneeling before the altar at Lorenzo’s side, while the priest intoned the words that made them each other’s for ever. Instead it had all been a mockery. And the man who’d schemed and manipulated to bring this disaster down on all their heads was Renato.

Heather had never hated any human being before in her life, but at this moment the taste of hatred was bitter in her mouth. She looked up to find Renato watching her, and knew that he’d read her thoughts. She wanted to hurl bitter accusations at his head, but the sight of his ravaged face stopped her. Angrily she brushed the tears away from her eyes. His mother was ill. She wouldn’t curse him, but neither would she let him see her weeping, or