But then another reality intruded. This was a different Matteo, ten years younger, full of love and joy as he watched his beloved approach, to become his wife. That trusting young man had believed that a life of perfect happiness was opening for him.
How much of that other wedding was he remembering? Was he looking at her and seeing Carol, the one great love of his life, whose betrayal had ruined him for all other women? Did he regret this impulsive decision?
His face gave no clue. As she drew level he inclined his head to her, but he had no expression. His eyes, as he took her hand, were blank.
It went like clockwork. The words were spoken, the promises were given, the ties were bound. She was his wife.
No wedding would be complete without photographs, so they posed again and again, while one of Matteo’s friends took the shots that were expected: the bride and groom with the groom’s mother and little girl, the bride and Liza, happy together, the groom and his daughter, his mouth smiling, his eyes wary.
When it could no longer be avoided the bride and groom stood together, his arm about her shoulders. In the total unreality of this day she found it unnerving to be pressed so close to him, smiling into his face.
But there she saw that it was the same with him. His eyes met hers and his lips moved silently saying, ‘Bear up. Not long to go.’
It was only a moment, but it told her that they were on the same side, and after that it was easier.
The wedding breakfast was a sedate affair, with some short speeches, a few toasts. Then it was time for everyone to go. Watching the departure, Holly saw that the grounds were filled with unfamiliar figures and she realised that an extra contingent of police were guarding her wedding.
Finally the last guest had gone, although the officer in charge assured them that his men would remain in the grounds. Matteo thanked him formally and invited him into his study for ‘further discussion’. Relieved, Holly hurried upstairs to where Galina was putting Liza to bed.
The child was slightly shocked to see her.
‘You should be drinking champagne with Poppa,’ she said.
‘We’ll do that later,’ Holly said. ‘Not all weddings are alike.’
‘Yes, they are,’ Liza insisted. ‘You get married and you drink champagne, and you go away on honeymoon.’
‘There wasn’t time to arrange that,’ Galina said hurriedly.
‘Will you have one later?’
‘Not for some time,’ Holly said. ‘Your father has a lot of work to do for the next few months.’
‘But where will you go?’
‘We’ll talk about that another time,’ Holly improvised.
Luckily this kept Liza content for the next few minutes while she went through a list of places she considered suitable. They grew crazier with every minute and the three of them were laughing when Matteo came in.
Galina immediately declared that she was ready for bed. Before departing she told Matteo, ‘We were just settling your honeymoon, when you have time for it. Liza favours Timbuktu.’
To Holly’s relief Matteo joined in the game, declaring that he could think of much more outrageous places. All went well until Liza said, ‘I won’t come in too early. Promise.’
‘Come in?’ Matteo echoed.
‘Your room. Remember how I used to come in, in the mornings, and bring you coffee?’ She gave a happy sigh. ‘And you and Mamma would be all snuggled up together, cosy and warm.’ She looked worried. ‘Don’t you remember?’
‘Yes, piccina,’ Matteo said in a voice that wasn’t quite steady. ‘I remember.’
‘And it will be just the same, won’t it?’ Liza asked anxiously.
Matteo couldn’t reply. Holly could feel the air vibrating with strain, and it was she who said, ‘Yes, darling, it’s all right. It will be exactly the same.’
CHAPTER ELEVEN
AS SOON as they were alone in her bedroom Matteo turned to face her.
‘I’m sorry,’ he said urgently. ‘I promised to keep to my own room and I meant it. I had no idea this would happen. Holly, please say that you believe me.’
‘Of course I do. I know you’re a man of your word.’
‘I had forgotten how Liza used to come in to see us in the mornings. I didn’t know it meant that much to her.’
‘But she gave you the clue,’ Holly reminded him. ‘She said you and Carol were “snuggled up together, cosy and warm.”’ She smiled. ‘It made me think of a pair of cats I once had. They were elderly neuters, and they slept wrapped around each other because that way they were blissfully content. Seeing you two like that made Liza feel safe, and it’s that safety she wants back.’
‘Then what do we do?’
‘Give her what she wants. That’s what this is all about.’
‘You mean we have to guess when she’s going to arrive in the morning? I set an alarm clock, or do you come next door and awaken me?’
She regarded him with an exasperation that had a touch of fondness.
‘I don’t think that would work,’ she said slowly.
They looked at each other. He spoke cautiously.
‘So your suggestion is-that we spend the night like a pair of elderly neutered cats?’
‘Not the whole night. Just the last half-hour. That bed must be eight feet wide. Room enough to stay clear of each other.’
He didn’t speak but his eyes said, You think so, do you? And for a moment the one kiss they’d shared flamed between them. With a great effort she put it aside.
‘Unless you’ve got a better idea,’ she said.
A faint gleam of humour crept into his rueful smile.
‘What must you be thinking of me?’ he asked.
‘That you’re reacting to situations that are beyond your control, as we all are,’ she said gently. ‘We just have to play everything by ear and hope we get it right.’
‘How will we know when we’ve got it right?’
‘When Liza smiles, we’ll know. That’s what it’s all about. We must never forget that.’
He nodded. After an uneasy moment he said, ‘I have something to give you.’
He went into his own room and she took the opportunity to change into her nightgown, relieved that she had chosen something plain and simple, not designed to be alluring. Her dressing gown, too, was elegant but not seductive.
When he returned he, too, was wearing a dressing gown, and carrying a bottle of champagne and two glasses, which he set down on a small table.
‘Take these and keep them in a safe place,’ he said, reaching into a deep pocket and producing papers. ‘They’re your copies of the forms I signed this afternoon. Everything is now in order.’
She could see that it was. She was Signora Fallucci, now a wealthy woman in her own right and possibly heiress to a large inheritance. She was also named as the guardian of Liza Fallucci, and her joint trustee, with the lawyers, for an even larger inheritance.
Everything was provided for, down to the last comma, the work of a thorough lawyer.
But when she looked up he was holding out a fluted glass of champagne.
‘We drank champagne with our guests,’ he said, ‘but this is between us. My gratitude-for today, and for the future.’
The future which might contain his death, perhaps very soon. Neither said it, but each knew what the other was thinking.
They clinked glasses.
