Angels of the Flood (41 page)

‘If you’re sure that’s what you want.’

‘Quite sure. Oh, Kate!’ Impetuously Francesca flung her arms round her friend and hugged her. ‘One more hour, maybe two, and then I’ll be
free!’

Francesca stepped back. She was resolute, all her earlier fears vanishing as she set her sights on the new life ahead. Now it was Kate who was lagging behind. She said, ‘Is that why you and Simona followed us when Mario and I were leaving? Because you wanted to come back to Florence with me?’

‘Of course.’ Francesca was surprised by the question. ‘Why else would we have come after you?’

‘I thought perhaps you were trying to stop me from going off with Mario.’

‘You can’t force people to care for you. I knew that even then. I was angry with you, but…’ She smiled again. Now that she had decided to break free, nothing was going to dampen her spirits for long. ‘It was all so complicated. Even though I was shocked and unhappy, there was a part of me that recognized you were doing me a favour by removing him from my life. I loved Mario, in a way I’ve always loved him, but I could never be my own person while I was with him—and no one is worth sacrificing your own self for.’

Kate said quietly, ‘Thank you, Francesca. It means a lot to know that.’

‘Simona never got away,’ said Francesca. ‘Maybe it sounds corny, but I owe it to her memory to make something decent out of the rest of my life. This time, we have to succeed.’

They went out of the bedroom. Men’s voices were rising up from the drawing room where drinks were laid out before lunch.

‘Okay,’ said Francesca as she paused at the top of the stairs. ‘This next couple of hours will be the last lie. Do you think we can fake it, Kate?’

‘Of course,’ said Kate. ‘But you have to carry on looking like Simona, just a bit longer.’

‘Sure,’ said Francesca, starting down the stairs.

But already she’d forgotten the trick of how being Simona was done.

T
HE SCENT OF HOME-COOKED
minestrone was rising from the kitchen as Francesca and Kate started down the stairs. It seemed extraordinary that such an everyday activity as lunch could still take place when her whole world had been turned round. Francesca stepped carefully; from now on she mustn’t put a foot wrong.

‘Ah, there you are. I wondered where you’d got to.’ Mario emerged from the drawing room, a drink in his hand, as they came down the stairs. He was smiling, but his eyes were wary.

‘We didn’t realize you were back so soon,’ said Kate. ‘How did the house-hunting go? Did you see anything you liked?’

David had come to stand beside Mario. He was watching her closely. Francesca recognized the look in his eye: she’d seen it so many times before on the faces of new acquaintances, old friends. It meant Mario had got to him, and told him she was mad—oh, he had a hundred ways of wrapping it up and making it sound like a judicious, reluctant, medical opinion—so that whatever she said or did would be perceived through the filter of her supposed madness. He said casually, too casually, ‘Oh, none of the places we saw were quite right. But there’s an old schoolhouse I’d like to check out some time. Did you have a good morning?’

‘Fine,’ said Kate. ‘We went down to the river and swam. The water was freezing, but very refreshing—perfect for this hot weather.’

‘You should try it, David.’ Francesca knew her voice sounded wooden. It was so hard to act naturally when the person you were talking to thought you were crazy.

‘I’d love to,’ he said. ‘But unfortunately Kate and I have to leave after lunch.’

Kate touched her lightly on the shoulder. ‘Some other time, maybe,’ said Francesca.

Kate’s brief gesture of support had been a mistake. Mario was suspicious. He knew her too well and was sensitive to all her moods; he must know that a fundamental shift had taken place inside her. However hard she tried to look like the old Simona, she felt her new self insisting that everyone take notice. Mario forced himself to smile, that old, calculating smile, then said, ‘You both look… as if the swim has done you good. Ah, Annette.’

Signora Bertoni had her arm through Dino’s as she walked in slowly from the terrace. She was concentrating too much on the task of walking in her delicate sandals to give any attention to the group watching her from the hall. Now that she was on the verge of breaking free, Francesca was able to recognize that her mother was a frail old woman whose mental faculties were slipping away, rather than the tormentor who had ruled her life for so many years.

‘Buon giorno,
Mamma,’ said Francesca, every nerve taut with the effort of appearing normal. ‘Now you are here we can begin lunch.’

She and Kate had reached the bottom of the stairs. Francesca resisted the temptation to stay close to Kate, and slipped her arm through David’s. ‘I want to hear all about the places you saw,’ she said as they moved towards the dining room. ‘Just think, we may end up neighbours. Wouldn’t that be great?’

Kate and Mario followed. Once they were in the dining room, its windows open to let in the September warmth, Francesca went to stand behind her chair at the head of the table. David moved to her right. Mario walked round behind her and said softly, so that only she could hear, ‘Francesca, what’s going on?’

She jumped, as though she’d been touched with a cattle prod, then drew in a deep breath and said quietly, ‘Don’t you mean Simona?’

His hand closed round her upper arm, forcing her to turn towards him. ‘Simona, of course. How foolish of me.’

She was thinking fast. With that sixth sense that never let him down, Mario must have guessed everything. She had to get away from La Rocca before he thought of a way to stop her. She didn’t know what he would come up with, but he was resourceful, and had always found a means of blocking her escape in the past.

She looked across at Kate. ‘Kate,’ she said coolly. ‘Where’s that necklace you were wearing when we went down to the river?’

Kate’s hand flew up to her throat. There was no necklace, but thank the Lord she obviously understood the significance of what Francesca was saying. ‘I—I must have left it by the river,’ she said.

‘That’s just what I was afraid of,’ said Francesca. ‘I’m sorry, but you’ll have to start lunch without us. Kate and I need to go back and look for it. We’ll only be five minutes.’

She began to move into the hall, but Mario blocked her way. ‘Can’t it wait till later?’ he asked. ‘No one except us ever goes down to the river. Kate’s necklace will be quite safe.’

‘All the same,’ said Francesca. ‘I’d be easier in my mind…’

‘What’s so important?’ he asked.

Kate said firmly, ‘It’s a pearl necklace that belonged to my mother. I’d hate anything to happen to it.’

David was looking baffled. He said, ‘I don’t remember ever seeing you in pearls, Kate.’

‘A pearl necklace,’ said Mario. ‘No wonder Kate is concerned. I tell you what, Kate, I’ll drive you down myself.’

‘No,’ said Francesca. ‘I’m going.’

‘There’s no need to trouble—’ began Mario, his voice like steel.

‘I tell you, Mario, I—will—
go!’
she blazed. She felt the last vestiges of Simona falling away from her as she squared up to him. There was a long silence, a silence that seemed to stretch endlessly, no one speaking, and then, more quietly, she repeated, ‘It’s no good, Mario. I’m going,’ and this time her words carried a different meaning altogether.

‘Going?’ His face was blank.

‘Yes, going.’ Dear God, the relief of speaking plain. She turned briskly to Kate. ‘Will you get my things for me, Kate? My passport’s in my bag. There’s no point in staying any longer.’

‘Passport?’ asked David.

‘Simona, for God’s sake, consider what you’re doing!’ Mario caught hold of her arms but she shook herself free.

‘Francesca!’ she yelled. ‘It’s Francesca, remember! From now on everybody gets to call me by my real name!’

‘What the hell?’ asked David. Francesca saw him move towards the doorway, as though intending to stop her by force. ‘Is this the delusions you were telling me about, Mario?’

‘David, stay out of this,’ said Kate.

‘You don’t understand,’ he said urgently. ‘She’s not right in the head and she’s bloody dangerous. This whole business has just been a way to get you here, so she can trap you.’

Francesca gripped the back of the chair. If Kate believed what David was saying about her now… ‘Kate, please. Don’t listen to him.’

Kate smiled, that generous smile Francesca had waited half a lifetime to see. ‘It’s okay, Francesca. He just can’t see the whole picture yet, that’s all.’

Mario ignored them both. ‘Don’t do this to us,’ he pleaded with Francesca. ‘Don’t throw everything away just for a
name.
Christ, Simona, what’s the point? Just think for a moment, please, think before you act.’

She laughed. Did he really imagine this was just a spur-of-the-moment whim? ‘Think?
Think?
I’ve had a whole lifetime to think this through and now I’ve made up my mind. There’s no way I’m turning back now and there’s nothing you can do to stop me. So don’t even try.’

Mario rounded on Kate, his face contorted with fury. ‘You’re to blame for this, Kate! She was fine till you showed up.’

‘Don’t blame Kate. She’s helping me, sure, but unlike poor old Simona, who you’ve kept wrapped round your little finger all these years,
Francesca
Bertoni is going to make her own decisions.’

‘Will someone please tell me what’s going on,’ said David helplessly. No one even glanced in his direction.

Annette was standing behind her chair, still leaning on Dino’s arm. Her head was tilted and she was sniffing the air, like an animal that scents danger. Now she said sharply, ‘Simona, what’s all this carry-on?’

‘I’m not Simona,’ she said firmly. ‘You know I’m not and I’m through pretending. I’m sorry, Mamma, but I couldn’t wait any longer. No one going to blame you. It’s too late for that.’

‘Not Simona?’ Her mother was looking around in anguish. ‘Not Simona? Then where’s my baby? What have you done with her?’

‘She died, Mamma, you know she did. She died in the accident. I’ve just pretended to be her, like you always wanted, but I can’t do it any longer. I’m Francesca.’

‘Francesca? But Francesca died… in that accident… when Kate…’ Francesca watched, horrified, while her mother’s eyes flickered round the table, then finally lit on Kate. Annette seemed to shrink visibly as she said, ‘Dino, help me please. It’s getting kind of hard to stand.’ You poor thing, thought Francesca, you’re just a pathetic old woman.

‘Of course, Mamma. This has been a shock for you.’ Francesca took hold of her mothers other arm and together she and Dino guided her to a chair.

‘Simona—’ began Mario.

She flared up again. ‘Damn you, Mario! From now on I only answer to Francesca!’

‘Francesca?’ Annette looked up at her in bewilderment. ‘What’s going on? Are we going to be ruined, Mario?’ She was fiddling with the drawstring of her beaded bag. Then she said plaintively, ‘Damnation, I’ve brought the wrong bag with me. Go get the other one, Dino, the one with the dragon embroidered on it. It’s in my drawer. Well, go on then, don’t just stand there.’

‘He doesn’t understand you, Mamma.’ Francesca repeated her mother’s instructions in Italian. A faint look of comprehension spread across his placid face, the only time Kate had ever seen any expression there at all.

‘Yes, yes,’ said Annette petulantly, adding further orders in Italian. Dino left the dining room and his heavy footsteps could be heard as he went up the stairs.

‘I’ll fetch our bags too,’ said Kate.

‘You’re going?’ asked David. But Kate followed Dino without bothering to explain.

Mario was talking to her now in Italian.
‘Mia cara,
please. I don’t understand why you have to destroy everything we have built up together.’

‘Because it was all built on lies, Mario, don’t you understand that? And I can’t live a life of lies any longer. I want everyone to know the truth about me, about my family, no matter what.’ She turned to Kate who had reappeared in the doorway. ‘Shall we go?’

‘Where’s Dino?’ demanded Annette. ‘Where’s my bag?’

‘He’s coming, Mamma.’ Francesca tried to speak gently, but she was unable to keep the excitement out of her voice. ‘I’m going away for a few days, but I’ll be back again soon, I promise.’

‘I don’t want you. I want Dino.’

‘And what do you think you’re going to do now?’ asked Mario, standing stiffly in front of the door. ‘What do you plan to do with this great truth of yours?’

‘I’ll tell you when I’ve made up my mind.’

‘When you get back?’ He laughed bitterly. ‘I won’t be here.’

‘Well, then…’

‘Please,
mia cara.’
He was pleading with her. ‘Don’t do this thing.’

‘I have to.’

‘I won’t let you.’

‘You can’t stop me.’

‘No? My dearest love.’ Suddenly his voice ached with tenderness. ‘How will you manage without me?’

Francesca felt herself falter. It had been her Achilles heel all through: according to this version of her story she was a frail and damaged person who could never survive without him. Kate spoke up: ‘Francesca will manage just fine! She doesn’t need you any more, Mario.’

He turned on her in a fury. ‘She will, eh? And what makes you such an expert all of a sudden?’ He snatched Francesca’s case from her hand and said, ‘I’m not letting you go! Okay, then, you want the truth? You really want the truth?’

‘Stop it, Mario,’ said Kate. ‘Francesca’s coming with me.’

‘You want the truth?’ he demanded again. Francesca stared at him. ‘You’re tired of lies and you want everyone to know what really happened? Are you sure?’

Francesca felt a kind of paralysis creeping through her limbs. Then she nodded slowly.

Mario hesitated. ‘Please, don’t make me do this.’

Francesca said, ‘Hand me back my case, Mario. We’re leaving.’

He turned on her. ‘Oh no, it’s not that easy! You think you can walk away, just like that? My God, I’ve spent my whole life protecting you from the truth and now this is all the thanks I get.’

‘Forget it Mario, I don’t need that kind of protection any more.’