Property of Blood (23 page)

The Marshal introduced his wife. ‘You remember, I talked to you about her and all her dogs.’ He had been slow to recognize her as she approached because she was so beautifully dressed, though the wispy hair was tucked anyhow into the brim of a most elegant hat. They talked for a while and she brought the Marshal up to date on the latest developments in the Brunamonti family. Olivia and Leo kept reaching out to each other, as she put it, and missing.

‘At least Olivia’s got her ghastly daughter married off but she’s not rid of her. He’ll be moving in. That one will never step outside the Brunamonti house though she’d get Olivia out if she could. She’s already got her to move the workrooms out, did you see? Olivia converted the ground floor and first floor the other side of the bar when they came free. A typical Olivia job. She didn’t much want to do it but saw it as another possible way of giving Leo a chance of getting back to feeling easy with her by asking him to design and set it up for her. She thought once they were busy on a project the tension would melt and their relationship fall into its usual habits of cheerful goodwill.’

‘And did it work? It sounds like a good idea.’

‘It was a good idea and no, it didn’t work because Leo had just decided to move up to Switzerland with his girlfriend in the hope that his mother would get on better with Caterina without him there to cause jealousy and that Olivia might even be more likely, in his absence, to marry poor Patrick—I feel so sorry for him. Well, he’s gone now. So she was left to sort the move out for herself, causing more resentment on her side, more guilt on his. The only concrete result, apart from Olivia’s exhausting herself, was that that poisonous snake dressed up as an angel over there got her own way again. Oh, well, Leo still comes down to design Olivia’s shows so maybe one day they’ll get themselves sorted out. How do you like the bridegroom? That little chap with the ginger hair.’

‘That’s not—’

‘Oh yes, it is. Half her size and twice her age. Hasn’t a bean. Dreadful snob and marrying her for the name. Hasn’t a saving grace.’

‘She must think he has.’

Yes, well, the fellow’s a photographer on some newspaper or other. She picked him up during Olivia’s thing. He was the only one who kept photographing her when all the others were flocking round Olivia. It was the wedding she wanted. All dressed up—and you must admit she looks stunning—and at the centre of all the photographs, plus a permanent court photographer at her service. I wouldn’t give it a year. Have you seen Olivia? That suit! Caterina chose it. Nearest thing to putting a black cloth over her. She should have married Patrick. She’s a damn fool.’

‘Why didn’t she?’

‘She’s still all taken up with that bandit fellow. Visits him in prison. Didn’t you know?’

‘No, I hadn’t heard …’

‘There’s a wife and a little boy, too. Olivia’s rescuing them all. And, do you know, she told me that if things had gone wrong he would have killed her? What do you make of that? She just says she wants to understand. She can’t rest until she understands why. Why he should destroy someone he barely knew and who had done him no harm. I said to her it might be more to the point to find out why her own children behaved the way they did but she said, “I can’t think about that or I’d go mad. I want to be well.”’

‘She could get help. There’s the National Association of Kidnap Victims. They’re used to dealing with the problem—’

‘They’re not used to dealing with Olivia. She doesn’t know how to be helped, she only knows how to help. Hence the bandit. She says he’s going to study for a degree in prison. Well, he might turn out to be very grateful to her, which is more than can be said of her children. Look at that! The groom’s behind the camera and Olivia’s very carefully standing where she’s been placed, at the back on the very edge of the group. She never complains, you know. She gets agitated if Leo’s name comes up and sometimes I’ve thought I heard her crying but I was wrong. She’s tough, is Olivia. I’ve never seen her shed a tear. I’ve got to get back over there. I’m so glad to have seen you!’ She hurried back to the church, holding on to her hat.

The Marshal and his wife turned and walked among the groups of small children and grandmothers near the fountain, leaving the Palazzo Brunamonti behind them, enjoying the sunshine and the scent of blossoming limes.