The Italian Matchmaker (29 page)

Fiyona chewed thoughtfully on her cheek. ‘I see.’

‘The police never properly investigated Valentina’s murder. They assumed she was in the wrong place at the wrong time, caught in the middle of
mafia
crossfire. They never imagined that it was Lupo in the wrong place at the wrong time, that the
Marchese
killed Valentina and he just got in the way.’ She leaned forward conspiratorially. ‘In fact, he killed her because he didn’t want my grandfather to take her away to England. If he couldn’t have her he didn’t want anyone else to have her. I think the
Marchese
was a shrewd old thing. I bet he knew she took other lovers and I don’t imagine he minded. I remember my mother telling me that he collected beautiful things. He was an aesthete. Valentina was simply another one of his beautiful possessions. But when she fell in love with my grandfather, I mean,
really
in love, he couldn’t take it. So he cut off his nose to spite his face and murdered the thing he loved so that no one else could have her. I’m surprised no one’s made the film.’

‘Maybe they will when they read my article. We have a two million circulation.’

Rosa’s eyes widened. ‘You mean two million people will read about me?’

Fiyona pandered to her vanity. ‘Two million people will read about you and your family.’

‘
Madonna!
Imagine that. I can act, you know. I’m a very good actress.’

‘I don’t doubt it,’ Fiyona said truthfully.

Rosa looked wistful. ‘I wish some handsome foreigner would drape me in diamonds and sweep me off somewhere else.’

‘You don’t like it here?’

‘Nothing happens. I can see why Valentina walked on the dark side. War or no war, she had to make her own excitement.’

At twenty minutes past eleven Romina arrived to pick up Fiyona. They were still talking. Fiero hovered close, like a moth at Fiyona’s flame.

‘Haven’t you two finished yet?’ she asked.

‘We’re done,’ said Fiyona, switching off her tape recorder. ‘Thank you, Rosa, you’ve been very interesting.’ She waved at Fiero. ‘I’ll see you later.’

Rosa looked affronted. ‘You want to interview Fiero?’

‘I want to talk to everyone. I don’t like to leave any stone unturned.’

‘He doesn’t know anything.’

Fiyona shook her head shrewdly. ‘Everyone knows something.’ She winked at Fiero. ‘I’ll see you this evening.’

Back in the car, Romina asked if she had got what she needed. ‘And some,’ she replied happily. ‘Valentina’s star still shines brightly.’

‘The naivety of youth. Rosa doesn’t see the sordidness of the story, just the glamour.’

‘It’ll make great copy.’

‘You should talk to her mother.’

‘Apparently Alba won’t speak.’

‘Shame. I’m sure she knows a whole other dimension.’

‘Rosa implied that more than one person killed the
Marchese
.’

‘I thought it was just Falco.’

‘Could have been a slip of the tongue.’

Romina shrugged. ‘I’ll ask my son. I think he’s closer to that family than I previously thought.’

‘It’s important for the article. I like to get my facts right.’

‘Leave it to me.’

That afternoon, when Rosa returned home, Cosima was still in her bedroom. She had been waiting all morning to talk to her, and couldn’t wait another minute. As she reached the top of the stairs she could hear her cousin humming. She didn’t bother to knock, but turned the handle and walked inside.

Cosima was sitting at her dressing-table, gazing at her reflection in the mirror. Dangling from her ears were the most magnificent diamonds. Rosa gasped, envy and fury rising in an uncontrollable swell.

‘You should have knocked!’ Cosima exclaimed, placing her hands over her ears in an attempt to hide the diamonds.

‘I’ve already seen them, you fool! Don’t think I don’t know about you and Luca. I saw you together. So, he’s given you diamonds!’

‘Yes.’ Cosima braced herself.

‘I’m happy for you,’ said Rosa briskly.

‘You are?’

‘Why wouldn’t I be? I don’t fancy Luca. Sure, I enjoy flirting with him, but I’m married.’

‘I’m sorry now that I didn’t tell you.’

‘Why should you? I don’t feel obliged to tell you everything.’

Cosima couldn’t fail to notice the strain in her cousin’s voice. Rosa’s deliberate calm was more than a little disconcerting. Any moment she expected an object to come flying at her head.

‘He gave them to me last night,’ she confessed.

‘Can I see?’ Rosa sat on the bed. Cosima hesitated a moment before taking the earrings off and handing them to her. She stood up to let her cousin take her place in front of the mirror. Rosa was quick to push the little sticks through her ear lobes and stared at her reflection with childish pleasure. ‘I’ve never seen anything more beautiful,’ she whispered. ‘They must have cost a fortune. As much as a house. He’s obviously a millionaire. Trust you to find a rich man.’

‘I never set out to find a man at all,’ said Cosima uneasily.

‘I should have been a little more cunning, but I was young and innocent when I married Eugenio. I had no understanding of life. Not like you, with all the wisdom of middle age.’ She sighed. ‘Lovely, but where are you going to wear them? Is he going to take you off to Naples?’

‘No! I’ll wear them just for him.’

‘Maybe he’ll sweep you off to London.’

Cosima was horrified. ‘I’ll never leave Incantellaria.’

‘Why not? I’d give anything to leave this sleepy little place.’

‘I can’t!’ Cosima’s voice cracked.

‘Why ever not?’

‘Because I’ll never leave Francesco.’

Luca spent the morning in bed. Outside the sky was grey; it looked like rain but there was sunshine in his heart. He couldn’t believe his luck, how suddenly his life had turned around, how one woman in a magical little town could transform him. He had left London feeling lost and empty, having walked away from his life of twenty years. He didn’t know what he was going to do; he was floating aimlessly like a piece of driftwood on the sea. Now his life was gaining purpose: loving Cosima and loving his children. That’s what had been missing all along: love. Not the selfish love he had initially felt for Claire and the distant idea of love he had felt for his daughters, but the love that puts itself above one’s own desires: loving another more than oneself. The realisation filled him with energy. Too excited to lie in bed he took a towel down to the little bay for a swim.

‘He’s in love,’ said Ma, enjoying a pre-lunch Bloody Mary.

‘And it’s not with my girl,’ added Caradoc happily. ‘My money’s on the widow.’

‘The one who lost her little boy?’

‘Yes. I never thought he’d crack her,’ said Ma.

‘Luca’s very handsome and sweet,’ said Stephanie. ‘I’m not at all surprised. The waitress at the
trattoria
’s mad for him.’

Caradoc’s eyes lit up. ‘That’s my girl! She’s mad for me too!’

‘Pipedreams,’ Ma scoffed. ‘You’re a silly old man!’

‘One is never too old to dream,’ protested Nanni, wondering where that naughty little journalist had got to.

‘I hope he marries her and gives her another child,’ said Stephanie wistfully.

Her father patted her knee. ‘Ever the romantic, Stephanoula!’

‘Bad blood,’ said Ma darkly. ‘I wouldn’t go near that family if I were him. Imagine, Cosima’s grandfather committed murder right here in this
palazzo
. The
Marchese
was slaughtered like an animal! Her great-aunt was murdered on the road to Naples having taken lovers and betrayed all of them. I’d think very carefully before dipping my snout into that trough!’

Caradoc shook his head. ‘We all have family we’re not proud of. But an individual shouldn’t be judged on the errors of his ancestors.’

‘Mark my words, Professor. You heard it here first. Nothing good will come out of that relationship.’

When Luca came up from the beach, his face red with exertion, his hair standing up in wet tufts, Ma put down her glass, determined to be the first to interrogate him. ‘Now, Luca. We’ve been laying bets on you,’ she shouted across the terrace.

He shot her a quizzical look. ‘Laying bets on what exactly?’

‘Who’s luring you into town all the time? It’s not just the coffee,’ said Ma. He grinned at them all, a schoolboy on the point of announcing he’d won a prize.

‘Ah, that smile says it all,’ commented Caradoc. ‘The cat that’s got the cream!’

‘You’re in love. The question is, with whom?’ said Ma.

‘Don’t tell her,’ laughed Nanni, smoking languidly. ‘A gentleman has no memory.’

‘It’s the widow,’ said Caradoc. ‘I’m right, am I not?’

Luca sat down. ‘Am I that transparent?’

‘Happiness is infectious. Your happiness is tickling us too,’ said Caradoc.

‘Or making us very envious,’ Ma added dryly.

He looked helplessly at Stephanie. ‘What do I do?’

‘Are you appealing to me for help?’

‘You’re a young woman. Would you want your love life discussed by this group of eccentrics?’

‘If they said positive things, I don’t see why not.’

‘Very well,’ he replied. ‘I am in love. I want to shout it to the skies, but she wants to keep it quiet.’

Ma narrowed her eyes. ‘Then I should be very worried if I were you.’

‘Worried? Why?’

‘What does she have to hide? Is she already married?’

‘She’s definitely not married,’ said Luca.

‘The widow!’ Caradoc clapped his arthritic old hands gleefully. ‘I knew it.’

At that moment Romina and Fiyona arrived back from town. Nanni straightened at the sight of the redhead. He was sorry to see that she wasn’t wearing fishnet stockings, but jeans. He felt himself grow hot, but the heat was strangely pleasurable. He took a gulp of Martini and leered at her.

Fiyona was as alert as a fox. She settled her long green eyes on him and licked her lips provocatively. ‘So, Nanni, do you fancy a little promenade before lunch? I’d love to dip my toes in the sea.’

As Fiyona disappeared inside to change, Ventura emerged with the telephone. ‘
Signor
Luca.’

He took the handset, expecting it to be Claire. To his surprise it was Freya. ‘Hi sweetheart, this is a nice surprise!’

‘How are you?’ She sounded tense.

‘Well. Heaven here. When are you coming?’

‘Perhaps sooner than you think.’

‘Oh?’

‘Do you remember last time we met, you thanked me for being there when you needed me?’

‘Of course. That’s what friends are for. You’re not in trouble, are you?’

‘Yes. Now it’s I who need you.’

He felt his head spin. ‘You do? What’s going on?’

‘Miles is having an affair.’

Luca wanted to laugh at the preposterous idea, but she sounded so upset, he maintained his composure. ‘Are you sure?’

‘I’m certain, Luca. What do I do?’

Now wasn’t the time to tell Freya he was in love with Cosima. ‘You come out here, now.’

‘But what about the children?’

‘They’ll be fine with the nanny for a few days. Tell Miles you’re giving him time to end it. He’ll deny it, of course. But if you’re sure, then you leave him once and once only. The second time, you don’t go back.’

 

Fiyona took off her flip-flops and dipped a foot into the water. Nanni noticed her toenails were painted black and he felt a frisson of excitement stir his sluggish loins. He was wheezing after their walk to the secluded beach, but concentrated on appearing as if it had cost him as little effort as it did her. ‘I have a weakness for foreign men,’ she said bluntly, lifting her sarong up her thighs as she walked a little further out to sea. ‘I don’t know whether it’s the language, or just the fact that foreign men are different. Italian men make good lovers. There’s poetry in the way they move, even if they’re overweight and lazy, and they take pleasure from giving pleasure. I like that. Men on the whole are very selfish. It’s all about getting their cocks in as quickly as possible.’ Nanni wiped his brow with a hanky. She looked at him sweating on the pebbles. ‘Why don’t you come in?’

‘I’m very much a land animal,’ he replied, gazing longingly at the cool water but not wishing to take off his clothes in front of her.

‘Can you swim?’

‘Of course. But I’m a large man. I’d sink like the
Titanic
.’

‘Then take off your shoes and come in. You look like you’re about to explode!’

Affronted by her remark, he slipped off his shoes and socks, rolled up his trousers to reveal white calves, and stepped into the sea. He gave a nervous cry as he felt the cold water.

‘There, bet that feels better!’ she encouraged.

‘It’s accelerated my heartbeat. If I suffer a heart attack, I’ll blame you.’

‘If you suffer a heart attack, you won’t be around to cast blame.’ She walked over to him, then held her hands in the water until they were cool and placed them on his burning cheeks. He recoiled. ‘Come now, doesn’t that feel nice?’

‘Just a little unexpected.’

‘The best things in life are unexpected. I once died, you know. Yes, sounds odd, but I did. I died and came back. They said I should have been brain-damaged from having not breathed for so long, but I wasn’t. A miracle perhaps. The point is, I now take life by the groin.’ She placed her hand on his flies. ‘If I fancy someone, I bed him. I’m not saving myself for Mr Right. There’s much too much fun in looking for him. Don’t pretend you don’t fancy me. It’s all in the eyes. I’m only here for the weekend and I intend to make the most of it. You’re an intelligent man, and I adore clever men.’