A Life Sublime (26 page)

“God will judge the sexually immoral.”

“Hebrews Chapter Thirteen. Verse Four,” Belinda quoted. The weight of her repeated decisions lay more heavily on her shoulders than when she entered the church.

“I understand your desire Belinda, but your life cannot be lived on the right path with ‘I want.’ Give yourself to God, and he will give you your heart’s desires.”

“God keeps putting him in front of me.”

“Say no to the temptation and be secure in God’s love for you.”

“I have been,” she argued. “I’ve also spent most of my life alone or saying goodbye to the people that I love. I’ve sacrificed more than anyone so forgive me if I question as to whether this is real temptation.”

“This isn’t absolution,” he noted with disapproval. “You will need God’s blessing if you wish to continue this relationship in a more Christian fashion.”

“And how do I do that?”

“You won’t need to come here for a start. That’s when you’ll know.”

Belinda gave a mutter of disgust in her throat. “That’s terrible advice.”

Father Woodford obviously rankled with her comment and his voice turned rather cold. “You know perfectly well what to do to make this right before the eyes of your God. Admitting that you acknowledge that you have sinned would bring you much peace and further your steps to truly confessing.”

No it wouldn’t, or she’d have felt better light years ago.

“Belinda, are you truly contrite?”

If she said no, God would probably strike her down where she stood. “Only that he’s not my husband.” She said gently, glancing down at her left hand which had been bare for so long. She thought of Massimo placing a ring on her finger and her stomach dissolved in a combination of joy and sheer terror. “But I will confess for my sins and pray for his eternal soul, so you and I can sleep at night.”

Father Woodford gave a groan, as if he were telling himself that further argument would only take time from other confessors. He would indeed be correct.

“Sister!”

Belinda whipped around to see Helen waving furiously from three doors from her own home. God save me, she thought. “Hello!” she waved back with little enthusiasm. Really, she didn’t have the patience to deal with her. The day had just gone from bad to worse. Helen was a ridiculous woman at the best of times and the idea of her making a nuisance of herself set Belinda’s teeth on edge.

Helen was one of the waifs and strays that Esther and Ben collected through the church, mutual friends and other relatives. A constant and regular gossip, Belinda had often been the barrier between an outing by Helen and a secret being kept.

“I thought I’d come and say hello.” Helen looked her up and down, saying in near surprise. “You look really well. Obviously the sunshine suited you.”

“Thank you, come in,” she offered listlessly. The woman swept past into Belinda’s living room and sat down. Her upbringing forced her to offer a cup of tea which Helen accepted.

Belinda sat down opposite her as she gave a long and extraordinarily detailed low down on everyone she knew. An old friend whose wife had passed away. The memorial service would take place next week and Belinda should wear the black and white kente as everyone would be. A colleague’s daughter who had finally got her degree. The colleague was to have a party and naturally Belinda should come, give herself something to look forward to. Belinda kept looking at the clock, which kept her blissfully calm. She needed to get changed and make her way to Massimo’s home. He was cooking for her! A man had never put on an apron and cooked for her. Not even her father had cooked, he didn’t think it was his place.

“Is something funny?” Helen asked.

“No, not at all. What were you saying?”

“Herbert’s eldest son had bought a house,” Helen repeated, looking at Belinda over the rim of her tea cup.

“That’s nice,” Belinda said neutrally. “He should do something useful with the money.”

Helen waited a beat, probably for Belinda to show some irritation or disappointment. It didn’t hurt her the way it used to. She had inherited four children and she wouldn’t swap them for her own. Once they learned not to swear so much. “And how is Ben’s daughter? Georgina?”

She needed to be on her way in half an hour. “Married. Pregnant. Happy. Just like her father wanted.”

“Oh right! How nice. Frederick said the wedding was a lovely day. Days I should say. There were some who were sad not to be invited.”

Belinda thought about the blessing, then thought about the type of people that would be there. The very idea of those people in a room with Helen was exceedingly painful. “Everyone close to Georgina was there. It’s not how it was when everyone had to be invited for no good reason other than to be polite. It was in Italy and the ones who came, Georgina paid for their flights. She couldn’t be expected to do that for everyone.”

Helen wasn’t impressed. “She should help those who helped her parents.”

“She did,” Belinda retorted.

Helen’s eyes glinted. “Frederick said something interesting. He said you spent a lot of time with the boy’s father. Another
obruni
.”

“I was representing Georgina’s family,” she said shortly, her mouth tightening with disapproval at where the conversation was heading. “We would all need to spend time together.”

“That’s not how Frederick said it. He said it was almost like you two were married.”

Belinda’s face froze. “Has anyone else said anything to you?”

“No, just Frederick. Nothing is going on is it? I mean. It wouldn’t be right.”

“Why?” Belinda asked, politely.

“Well at your age and with him being…” Helen trailed off. “You have to know how this looks. You just need to be careful.”

“Careful, why? He’s the father-in-law of my friend’s daughter.”

“Well,” Helen gave a slight shrug, “you shouldn’t be too excited because he’s the first man to show you any attention since your marriage ended.”

An explosion went off in Belinda’s mind. “Do you know what? Get out.”

Helen started. “I’m just saying how things are. You’re not a young woman anymore.”

“What does youth have to do with you being nosy? It was a wedding. We all had a good time.” She squeezed her hands to prevent herself from getting up and slapping Helen’s smug face. “Who are you anyway? What business is it of yours? You only come here to gossip. All you want to know is something filthy to talk nonsense to other people.”

Helen had panic written all over her face, but Belinda was past caring. “Belinda, I didn’t mean any offence.”

“I am damn well offended!” she flared. “Why do you need to know what I do? Why do you even need to talk about it?”

Helen stood up, placing her tea cup on the table. “I didn’t mean it. What I meant is that you should just protect yourself. Frederick told me…”

“Frederick’s now a professor?” Belinda sneered.

“He said to me that the man had been married before. He won’t want to settle down again. Why waste your time with someone who won’t be serious? You don’t have much time left.”

I’m going to kill her. I’m going to ring her skinny neck.
She gave a slight smile. “I told your husband the same thing when he was sniffing around me at Ben’s funeral. You should tell him not to drink so much.”

Helen turned post box red. “That’s a lie.”

“Helen, go away. Learn not to gossip.”

She snatched up her bag, “This is why you’re alone. No one will want to marry you. God knows how Herbert put up with you as long as he did.”

“I am a Queen in the bedroom,” she mocked. “
Fa wasam ko nhu!
Take your mouth elsewhere.”

Muttering to herself, Helen slammed her way out of the house. Belinda picked up her phone with shaking hands and sent Massimo a text message.
I’m going to be late. Sorry. Very sorry.

Take your time Bella. I will wait for you
.

First Frederick. Then Father Woodford. Now Helen. It was an unholy trinity from God telling her to behave. Why was everything good taken away from her? She juggled her phone in her hand as the clock ticked away her time.

Massimo chopped the mushrooms as finely as the recipe allowed, Ghana highlife music his soundtrack. No wonder Belinda enjoyed it so much, the name of the music spoke for itself. He took a sip of the wine, put some cold salted water in a pan to boil and began to prepare the pasta for the starter.

“Massimo?” Belinda called. He grinned. She remembered her key.

“Kitchen, Bella!” he replied, washing his hands quickly. She swept into the room and placed her bag down on the table with a disgruntled sigh. He circled the counter, pulled her into his arms and kissed her soundly. Her bones seemed to liquefy under his hands as she returned his kiss. He lifted his head a little from hers. “
Buena notte, come stai
?”

“
Molto bene
,” she replied with a smile.

“See?
Facile
,” he couldn’t stop beaming at her. “Would you like a glass of wine?”

“Please.”

He knew what that meant. She wouldn’t be driving back home. He just needed to make her stay longer than three in the morning. No one she knew would be wondering up and down her street to see what time she came home or not. She was a fully grown adult.

He nudged her to a seat at the counter and poured her a large glass of the red, Selvarossa.

“What are you making?” she demanded, even as she ran a hand over his arm in thanks for the wine.

“I am making mushroom tortellini for the starter. And I am making a medallion of beef with a red wine sauce and delicate fluffy mash.”

“Sounds delicious. No dessert?”

Adorable woman.
“
Zabaglione
with nectarines. Will that do?”

“Yes, it will do,” she gave him a sad little smile before looking down into her glass. Massimo dusted the counter with flour and laid out the pasta.

“What has upset you?” he asked lightly, running the cutter over the dough into even squares. It was keeping his temper under control. If anyone had upset her, there were many plots around and outside the city where the bodies would never be found.