Riches of the Heart (42 page)

Lily looked at the gentle expression in Vittorio’s eyes and saw the unspoken love shining there. Suddenly she knew that what he was describing was what she wanted too. Flinging her arms around his neck, she said, ‘Yes! That sounds wonderful. Let’s get married as soon as we can.’

He didn’t answer, but just smothered her with passionate kisses.

Catching her breath at last, Lily reluctantly drew away. ‘We’d best go back to the party before this gets out of hand.’

He caressed her cheek. ‘Tonight, I’ll make love to you like never before.’

They went back downstairs, to rejoin the festivities.

Towards the end of the night, Vittorio suggested to Lily that it would be prudent to empty the takings from the bar tills, leaving just the float; the money could be locked away in the office safe. She agreed and, collecting the cash into a bag, handed it over to him.

‘I’ll put it away and look in on Victoria again whilst I’m upstairs,’ he said.

He was about to open the office door when he noticed a strange smell in the air. Frowning, he sniffed again as he walked towards the stairs leading to the upper floor. Then suddenly he leapt up them two at a time. Smoke was seeping beneath Lily’s bedroom door. ‘Christ! A fire!’ He flung open the door, only to be repelled by the sudden burst of flames caused by the draught. Running along the corridor to the nursery, he burst into the room calling to the nanny to get up. ‘Grab a coat and put on some shoes,’ he ordered. ‘The building’s on fire.’

He picked up Victoria, wrapped her in a blanket, covered her face and, pushing the nanny ahead of him, rushed down the stairs.

By now the smell of smoke had travelled to the dining room and the revellers were panicking.

‘Get everybody out!’ yelled Vittorio. Pointing to the telephone he told the barman to call the fire brigade. Grabbing Lily by the arm, he handed over the baby and the bag of money. ‘You two get out of the building.’ He caught hold of Rachel, who had just hurried over in her tight gold lamé dress. ‘Take care of them for me,’ he ordered.

‘Where are you going?’ she demanded.

‘Back upstairs to see what I can do.’

‘Don’t be a fool,’ she cried. But he was gone.

Vittorio took off his flowing robes and dashed upstairs in his trousers and shirt. By now, the main bedroom was ablaze. He tried to close the door to contain the fire, but the wood burned his hands. He cursed to himself. He searched the other rooms in the vicinity to make sure they were empty then made his way to the floor below to do the same.

The office door was open. In the half-light he saw a figure fiddling with a pile of papers on his desk. Flames caught in a sudden flash; there was a smell of petrol. ‘What the bloody hell do you think you’re doing?’ he called.

The figure turned and he looked into the wild eyes of Manny Cohen.

‘I’m teaching my mother and that bitch Lily a lesson,’ he said, pulling down a curtain to add to the blaze.

Vittorio was across the room in a second, hauling Manny away. ‘Are you mad? Get out of here.’

Strengthened by the adrenalin of revenge coursing through his veins, Manny picked up a heavy vase and smashed it over Vittorio’s head. The Maltese dropped to the floor, unconscious.

Outside, the patrons gathered, appalled and bewitched by the sight before them. The upper storey of the hotel was burning brightly. The fire was out of control, huge flames licking the window frames after the heat had blown out the glass. All the rooms on the first floor were aglow.

Lily and Rachel watched, horrified. ‘Where is Vittorio?’ cried Lily, clutching her child. ‘Why doesn’t he come out?’

‘He’ll be all right, darling, you’ll see. He’s just doing all he can to save it.’ But Rachel was silently praying as she tried to comfort her young friend.

Inside, Vittorio was slowly regaining consciousness. His throat was burning; the smoke was choking him. Where was he? Then he remembered. The office was ablaze. He staggered to his feet and made for the door, but a burning beam crashed down, brushing his shoulder and he cried out with pain. Fighting his way to the door, he flung himself into the hall. All around him were flames. He thought of Lily, of Victoria and knew he had to escape. He must survive – for them.

He made it to the bar downstairs, where he soaked glass cloths in water and covered his head. In the distance he could hear a fire engine, but looking around at the devastation, he knew they were too late. The bandstand was ablaze, the tablecloths burning, the drapes a curtain of fire.

He made a desperate dash for the entrance, and staggered out into the air, where he collapsed. His lungs felt as if they were about to burst.

‘Vittorio!’ cried Lily, and rushed over to him. ‘Someone get some water – call an ambulance!’ she wept. Feverishly she undid the neck of his shirt. Looking at the crowd, now gathered closer, she shouted, ‘For God’s sake move back! Give him some air!’ She cradled him in her arms.

A woman dashed out of her house with a jug of water and a glass. Lily poured some of the water into the glass and held it to Vittorio’s lips. He drank from it slowly and then, taking the jug from her hands, he poured the remaining water over his burnt shoulder. He winced with pain.

‘I thought I’d lost you,’ Lily murmured, her voice full of emotion. The tears welled in her eyes.

Vittorio got painfully to his feet and, putting his good arm around her, held her close. ‘Don’t get upset, darling. I’m fine.’

‘Oh, Vittorio,’ she cried, tears streaming down her face, and they clung together oblivious of the others around them. He kissed the top of her head and stroked her face as you would a child.

‘Is the baby all right?’ he asked tenderly.

‘Nanny’s got her, she’s fine,’ Lily assured him as she wiped her tear-stained face with the back of her hand.

He looked at the club and said, ‘Which is more than I can say for the Valletta.’

At that moment, Sandy came over. He was holding his blonde wig in his hand, and his heavily made-up face looked incongruous. He shook his head and looked at Lily, ‘I can’t believe this is happening.’

For a brief second, the old friends clung together, united in their distress. The sense of devastation was total, but the warmth of that embrace gave them both new strength.

A pace or two away, Rachel was standing in a state of shock, the flames reflecting off her glorious costume, staring up at the building, mesmerised. Suddenly, she saw a figure at the window of the office on the first floor, screaming ‘Mama! Mama!’

Rachel covered her mouth. ‘Oh my God! It’s Manny.’

‘I thought he’d left the building,’ Vittorio said, puzzled. ‘He was busy setting the office alight. That’s right – he’s the one who started the fire. My God! He knocked me out and left me there to die.’

Manny screamed again. ‘Mama! Mama! Help me, Mama!’

Rachel reached out her hand towards the figure as if she expected to touch him. ‘My son! My son!’ she wept. She made to run to the building but Sandy held her back. She looked at Vittorio, anguish and desperation etched on her face. ‘My son,’ she whispered.

Vittorio looked up at the figure of the man who’d caused this mayhem, and then at the face of his mother, remembering her pleading for Manny’s life once before and his promise to her. ‘It’s all right, Rachel,’ he said quietly. ‘I’ll get him.’

Lily clung to him, screaming, ‘No! No! Vittorio, please don’t go. Please, I beg of you!’

He released her hold. Several people tried to stop him, but he threw them off and ran towards the entrance. Behind him, he could hear Lily’s frantic cries, but he carried on.

Inside, the building was an inferno. The smoke filled The Maltese’s lungs. Pulling his shirt-front out of his trousers, he covered his mouth. The heat from the fire scorched his bare skin.

He managed to get to the stairs. ‘Manny!
Manny!
’ he bellowed. The bannisters were alight but the stairs themselves seemed solid enough against the wall and so, clutching the shirt to his mouth, Vittorio dashed up them to the office.

Burning beams lay across the room where the ceiling had fallen in and there at the far end, standing by the window, stood Manny. He called his name again, urgently. ‘Try and get over here,’ he shouted, but he knew it was hopeless. There were great gaps in the floor and what was left was alight.

‘I can’t!’ screamed Manny. ‘I’m going to die.’

‘We’re both bloody well going to die unless you try.’

But terror had paralysed Manny’s limbs. Thinking of the look in Rachel’s eyes, Vittorio stepped into the room, carefully picking his way forward. Just as he reached the middle of the room and Manny had taken a few tentative steps in his direction, the floor collapsed beneath them. They both fell to the room below, burning timbers falling with them.

Only minutes later, the firemen who had been fighting their way into the club, located the bodies and trained their hoses upon them, but knew it was of little use.

Outside, Lily was going frantic. ‘Vittorio! Vittorio!’ she screamed. The firemen had to restrain her from rushing into the building.

It was some time before the charred bodies were carried outside.

The nanny was holding Victoria in her arms, tears streaming down her face. Rachel and Lily clung to each other, sobbing.

The large crowd was silent as they watched the despair of the two women. The fire chief came over and, placing a hand on each of them, said, ‘I’m sorry, ladies. We did everything we could to save them.’

They both nodded, too grief-stricken to speak.

The ambulance driver approached. ‘I think you two should bring the baby and come with me to the hospital to be checked over. You are both suffering with shock and should be treated.’

As if in a daze they followed him and climbed into the ambulance. They sat side by side, clutching each other by the hand, unable to speak.

That night they shared a private room, with a cot for the child. Victoria hadn’t suffered by her experience as her father had removed her from the fire so quickly. And as he’d covered her face, she’d not suffered from smoke inhalation at all.

The two women washed and put on hospital gowns. Both of them were silent, lost in their own thoughts. Imprinted on Lily’s mind was the figure of Vittorio, rushing into the flames. Oh, why hadn’t someone stopped him? Now he was gone for ever. She couldn’t believe it. Didn’t want to believe it. She wanted to wake in the morning and find it had all been a dreadful nightmare.

Picking up Victoria, she held her close. But for Vittorio, she might have lost them both. She would never have survived such a loss.

Rachel could still hear the voice of Manny calling to her. She put her hands over her ears to block out the sound. How could one person cause such devastation? She looked across at Lily, the innocent young baby clasped to her breast, and her eyes filled with tears.

Once Manny had been an innocent babe like Victoria. She remembered how proud she had been when the nurse had first placed him into her arms, then how he’d cried when he’d been circumcised. There was a deep and empty pit of sorrow within her. Her child was dead and in such terrible circumstances. It was not meant to be like this. Children were supposed to outlive their parents, weren’t they? She felt despair welling up inside her and wondered how she was going to cope with the loss. Yet as she looked across at Lily and remembered the sacrifice that Vittorio had made, a profound guilt icily filled her mind.

It was her son who had brought about this great sorrow. Perhaps if she’d given him money … but she knew that wouldn’t have stopped him. Manny was born to be trouble and as his mother, his guilt was hers. It was as if she herself had started the fire.

Lily and Rachel were both given a strong sedative before they were settled for the night. They were too full of grief to utter a word to each other, but they clasped each other for a moment before getting into bed.

The following morning, Lily held Victoria in her arms and smoothed the child’s face. She wept as she saw the likeness to Vittorio. She couldn’t believe she’d never see him again.

She looked up in surprise as the door opened and Tom McCann stepped into the room. He went over to her. ‘Lily. I’m so sorry. I just heard.’

Lily wanted to scream. Why wasn’t it Vittorio walking through the door? It was him she wanted to see, not Tom. In her despair, she held up Victoria. ‘Look,’ she said. ‘This is what you wanted me to abort. My beautiful baby. She’s all I have now.’

He held out his hand towards the child.

‘Don’t you touch her! Don’t you ever come near her again – or me. Her father was a better man than you’ll ever be. And now he’s dead.’ Her voice faded away as the sobs increased.

Rachel got off her bed and, taking Tom by the arm, she said, ‘It’s better you go.’

Cap held tightly in his hand, he nodded. ‘I’m sorry too for your loss, Rachel.’

‘I know.’

As he walked away from Lily for the last time, Tom cursed silently. Lily could have been his life. They could have had a family, a big one, but it wasn’t to be. He couldn’t get the picture of her deep distress from his mind. How could she have such feelings for The Maltese, the man he hated. The man who was now dead, but for all the good it did Tom, he might just as well be alive. He pulled his cap onto his head in a savage gesture and strode out of the hospital.

Seeing Lily’s despair, Nanny took the child away to feed and change her, leaving Rachel and Lily to have a cup of tea as they sat up in bed, their faces gaunt and pale. On a couple of hangers behind the door were their costumes from the night before, covered in soot and dirt.

Lily drew her legs up and cuddled them. Shaking her head she kept murmuring, ‘Vittorio. Vittorio.’ Tears streamed down her face.

Rachel sat on the side of her bed, her expression hard, like a block of granite, her eyes cold.

Looking across at her friend, Lily said, ‘It doesn’t seem real. Vittorio and Manny – gone. What are we going to do? Oh Rachel, what are we going to do?’

Rachel looked at her with eyes that blazed with anger. ‘My son – he deserved to die! Twice he ruined your life. He could have killed the baby. What did he care? He could have killed us all. Maybe that was his intention.’