seen for months. She was content, almost happy. And then, the way she clung to you-I suppose I made my decision then.’
‘The decision to take me over, lock, stock and barrel? The decision to acquire me at whatever cost, even if it meant out-bidding the police?’
‘That’s a cynical way of putting it.’
‘How else would you put it?’
‘I might say that you were in need of help, as am I, and we decided to assist each other.’
‘When did I decide anything?’
‘My dear signorina, forgive me if I have been too precipitate. Clearly I should have introduced you to the police and waited while you chose between us.’
Silence!
He was smiling, but behind the smile there was the steel of a man used to having his own way and determined that it was going to continue. He had her helpless, and he knew it.
‘In fact, neither of us made the decision,’ he said with a shrug. ‘Liza made it. I’m merely following her wishes. I admit that the circumstances aren’t ideal but I didn’t create them. I had to act quickly.’
It was true, and every instinct warned her to go carefully and not antagonise him. But too many years of going carefully rose up in defiance now, robbing her of caution.
‘No, you didn’t create them, but you knew how to take advantage of them, didn’t you? Despite your talk of following Liza’s wishes, I’m little better than a prisoner-’
‘Not at all. Walk out whenever you like.’
‘You know I can’t. I have no clothes, no money, no passport…’
His response was to reach into his jacket and hand her a fistful of notes.
‘Go,’ he said. ‘I will order that the doors are opened for you.’
She backed away from him, refusing to touch the money and saying wildly, ‘Oh, yes? Where am I? Where do I go? What do I do? You’re just playing with me, and you should be ashamed.’
Holly could tell she’d taken him by surprise. There was a flash of anger, then he nodded.
‘I admire your courage, signorina. Foolhardy but admirable.’
‘Perhaps it is you who is being foolhardly,’ she snapped, not appeased. ‘You took me into your house, and all you know about me is that I’m on the run.’
‘But you’ve assured me that you’re innocent.’
‘Well, I would say that, wouldn’t I?’ she hurled at him. ‘It was a pack of lies to protect myself. How would you know the difference?’
‘Maria vergine! If you imagine that you could deceive me for a moment, you’re mistaken. If I didn’t think your worst fault was incredible naivety I would never allow you near my daughter.’
Her antagonism died. He’d read her correctly. Naivety was the kindest word for her.
‘Now, can we stop fencing and start being practical?’ he continued. ‘I want you to stay here as a companion to Liza. Berta does an excellent job caring for her, but she can’t give her what she really needs, the thing that only you can give her.
‘It’s clear that she sees you as a connection with her mother. You’re English, you can speak the language with her as her mamma did, and that will comfort her until she’s ready to let go. If you can do that, there may be something I can do for you. Is it a deal?’
‘Yes,’ she said, dazed. ‘It’s a deal.’
‘Good, then it’s all settled.’
‘Not quite. How long do you see this arrangement lasting?’
He frowned, as if puzzled by the question.
‘For as long as I say,’ he replied at last.
Of course, she thought wryly. What else?
‘Now, to details,’ he continued briskly. ‘As far as anyone else is concerned you’re a distant relative of my wife, paying us a visit. Liza calls you Holly, but I see from your passport that your name is Sarah.’
‘Yes. Holly’s a nickname that my mother gave me when I was five. I put a bit of holly in her bed one Christmas.’
‘It’s useful. Since the police are looking for Sarah Conroy, you won’t attract attention.’
‘But if they keep looking-’
‘That train was their best chance and they fumbled it,’ he said with a shrug. ‘Now let us be practical. Take this money. It’s your first week’s wages. You’ll be paid in cash because the less paperwork the better. Is there anything in your purse that has your real name?’
‘A credit card.’
‘Let me see.’
As soon as she produced it he took it from her and cut it up.
‘Hey!’ she cried indignantly.
‘Anything that connects you with your real name is dangerous.’
‘If I’m prepared to take that risk-’
‘But you might reflect that the risk isn’t only for yourself.’
The words were lightly spoken but they made her pause. He was a judge, concealing a woman fleeing the law. She wasn’t the only one in danger.
‘You need clothes,’ he continued. ‘Sit down over there.’ He indicated an extra, smaller desk by the wall, on which stood a laptop computer, connected to the internet.
‘You’re online to a store in Rome,’ he said. ‘Go through it and select some items, then I’ll arrange for them to be delivered.’
She could see that it was open at women’s wear, and connected to an account in his name. All she had to do was add things to the shopping basket. Slowly she began to go through the pages, trying to believe what she was seeing. This was the most expensive store she’d ever come across. Just looking at the prices made her eyes cross.
She grew even more distracted studying the clothes. Underwear, dresses-everything seemed to be made of silk. It was intimidating.
‘I’m really looking for something a little more ordinary,’ she said. ‘More like me.’
‘You call yourself ordinary?’ he enquired.
‘Well, look at me.’
‘I am. You make nothing of yourself. You are tall and slim-’
‘Skinny, you mean. And flat-chested. Like a board.’
‘Give me patience! Is that any way for a woman to talk? There are women modelling on the catwalk shaped exactly like you, and all you can do is run yourself down.’
‘I’m not running myself down,’ she said huffily. ‘I’m being realistic. I’m no beauty.’
‘Did I say you were?’
She gaped. ‘You said-’
‘I said you had a shape you should make the best of, but you don’t think that way. You say “thin” when you should say “slim”. Your mind-set is askew.’
‘Well, pardon me for thinking incorrectly. Obviously an Italian woman would do better, but I can’t help being the wrong nationality.’
‘You must learn not to put words into my mouth. Don’t blame your nationality. My wife was also English, and she was as conscious of herself and the effect she made as any Italian woman. It’s something in here.’ He tapped his forehead.
‘Oh, I’m conscious of the effect I make,’ she said, in a sudden temper. ‘Homely is the word. And that’s the kind version.’
‘No woman with a twenty-two-inch waist is ever homely,’ he retorted.
‘And my face? It’s nothing.’
‘All right, it’s nothing,’ he conceded. ‘That’s better than being bad.’
‘Homely,’ she repeated, raising her voice. ‘Look, it’s my face, I know more about it than you do.’
Why were they having this quarrel? It had sprung up from nowhere and made no sense. But from the deep well
