Wife By Arrangement

no tears or reproaches from me. He’s not the one I blame.’

‘Not blame him? After what he did to you-?’

‘After what you did to me. Lorenzo tried to tell me honestly about his doubts, but you stopped him. If he and I could have talked I’d have released him at once, quietly, here at home, instead of having to do it in public. That was your doing, not his. So tell him not to worry.’

After a moment he said, ‘If we could talk naturally I could tell you how much I admire you for the dignity and spirit you’ve shown in this. But I know that my admiration will only provoke your contempt.’

‘Right first time,’ she said crisply. ‘Now, please, go and make that call.’

She spent the day at the hospital. Baptista slept a good deal but when she awoke her eyes sought Heather, always finding her in a chair by the window, and she smiled with relief. When Renato arrived Heather rose to go, but before she could do so she heard him say in a low voice, ‘Lorenzo will be home this evening, Mamma.’

She left the room before she could become too aware of them looking at her, and went to have a coffee. Before he left Renato joined her.

‘You were right,’ he said. ‘The news has cheered her up. It was generous of you to insist. I hope it won’t come too hard on you.’

‘I have no feelings one way or the other,’ she assured him.

‘I wish I knew if that were true.’

‘Does it matter? It’s your mother who counts.’

‘But you count too. We need to talk very soon-’

‘I don’t think so.’

‘Surely you can see that matters can’t be left like this?’

‘Of course. When she’s better I’ll arrange to return Bella Rosaria, and then I’ll go back to England.’

‘That wasn’t what I meant. There are other things-’

‘No, Renato, there’s nothing else. I’ll go back to her now.

Towards evening Baptista became wakeful, growing alert at every sound.

‘He’ll be here soon,’ Heather promised.

‘My dear, will it break your heart to see him?’

‘Hearts don’t break that easily,’ she said with a determined smile.

‘I think they do-at least for a while.’

‘I’ll tell you something,’ Heather said in a rush. ‘It’s not just losing Lorenzo-it’s losing everything. That day we went to Bella Rosaria, I told you how right it’s all felt since I arrived. I was so sure that fate had brought me to the right place to marry the right man.’ She gave an ironic little laugh. ‘It just shows you how wrong you can be.’

‘I don’t think you were wrong,’ Baptista said.

‘I must have been. I misread every signal, even my own. I’m different. I can’t recognise my own reactions. Once this would have made me cry my heart out. Now I just want to do something forceful, to show people that I’m not to be trifled with.’

‘That’s a very Sicilian reaction, my dear,’ Baptista said. ‘That feeling of rightness you had when you arrived-it was a true feeling. But it wasn’t Lorenzo who caused it. It was Sicily, telling you that you’d come home.’

‘What a charming theory-’

‘But you believe it’s just an old woman’s fancy. My dear, think. Forget Lorenzo, and think of the land. I’ve seen you standing on the terrace, watching it, when you thought nobody knew. Think of it in the morning when the mist is rising, or at noon when the shadows are deep and sharp-’

‘Or in the early evening when the light is that strange soft gold that happens nowhere else,’ Heather mused, half to herself.

‘And the language that you’re learning so easily,’ Baptista reminded her. ‘In fact, everything about this country comes easily to you. Even the heat.’

Yes, Heather thought. She’d flowered in the sun and it had relaxed all her instincts, blurring the edges of her personality, making her feel things that otherwise…

But that was all over now. The trauma she’d suffered in the cathedral had been like a blow to the head, knocking out emotion and sensation, so that she could function calmly. With any luck it would remain that way until she returned to England, and became herself again. And what she suffered there would be nobody’s business but her own.

‘I’m English, Mamma,’ she said now. ‘I belong there.’

‘No, you belong here,’ Baptista said firmly. ‘And you must remain.’

A shocking suspicion swept Heather. ‘No! If you’re thinking what I think you are-I could never marry Lorenzo now.’

‘Of course not.’ She stopped, alerted by a step in the corridor outside. The door opened and Heather stiffened as she saw Lorenzo. The next moment there was a glad cry from Baptista, and she opened her arms to her son. He was across the room in a moment to embrace his mother.

She tried to leave before he saw her, but at that moment he looked up and a deep flush spread over his face. ‘I’ll leave you two alone,’ she said. She kissed Baptista and departed quickly.

The little scene was over too fast for her to be aware of feeling anything. It was only when she was walking down the corridor that a wave of emotion swept her. Her head might tell her that their marriage would never have worked, but it was too soon for her to see Lorenzo without hurt. She checked her steps and leaned against the wall, pressing her hand against her mouth.

‘Heather!’ It was Renato’s voice.

She looked up. ‘Your brother has arrived,’ she said. ‘I’ve left them together.’

‘Are you all right?’

She gave a little puzzled laugh. ‘Why on earth wouldn’t I be all right? I’m going home now. Goodnight.’

It was a bad night to be thinking of lovers and honeymoons. The full moon was exquisitely reflected in the sea, and turned the land to pure silver. A sensible woman would go in right now, not sit here on the terrace, thinking of how she and her husband should be on a boat, cruising beneath that moon, lost in each other. And she was a sensible woman. It was being sensible that had enabled her to survive the last few days.

She heard a sound behind her and turned to find Lorenzo standing in the shadows. She sensed him take a deep breath and straighten his shoulders before he stepped forward.

She tried to use anticipation to suppress the pain of seeing his face, but nothing could change the fact that it was the one she’d fallen in love with, and whose smile had brightened her life.

‘I’ve come to ask your forgiveness, and to listen to whatever you have to say to me,’ he said quietly.

She raised her chin and confronted him with a bright manner. She even managed a touch of cheerfulness. ‘What are you expecting?’ she asked. ‘A tirade crashing about your ears? Reproaches, tears-“How could you do this to me?” Let’s take all that as read. I don’t have the energy for a big dramatic scene.’

‘But you must be angry with me.’

‘Must I? Well, I suppose I am, a bit. You should have told me the truth earlier.’

‘I meant to, when I came back from Stockholm, but Renato said-’

‘Stop right there. The less said about Renato, the better.’ After a moment she sighed. ‘He’s injured us both, and if there’s one good thing about this mess it’s that I shan’t have to be related to him.’ She gave an ironic laugh. ‘The night we met I told him that I’d never marry you because of him. I should have stuck to that. Ah, well! I didn’t. My mistake. Let’s not make a tragedy of it.’

‘How strong and brave you are!’ he said quietly. ‘You make me ashamed.’

Heather regarded him askance, a faint touch of amusement in her eyes. ‘Did you expect me to go into a decline because you ran away? Don’t flatter yourself. You just weren’t ready for marriage, and I’ve got better use for my tears than to waste them on you.’

‘You really don’t care for me any more?’

‘Luckily for us both, I don’t.’

‘But the night before our w-the other night-you flung yourself into my arms and told me again and again how much you loved me-’

‘That’s enough,’ she said sharply. ‘The past is the past. Believe me, you wouldn’t really want me swooning all over you and telling you that you’d broken my heart. You’d find that very uncomfortable.’