The Runaway Visitors (10 page)

‘I know, Margarita, you are always the soul of consideration; but what am I to do? I can’t have my guests in floods of tears.’ Giuseppe touched Victoria’s arm and offered her a dish of canapes of caviare and smoked salmon. She took one and smiled at him automatically, but her ears were alert for Margarita’s reply.

‘Oh, if all she needs is a social life, we can supply that. If she feels excluded, that’s soon remedied. The Contessa lives by parties, as you know; my father and I give quite a few. We will ask her to our parties and then perhaps she will not intrude on your work . . .’ The voice faded away. Charles and Margarita had moved on. Victoria stood where she was, no longer trying to make sense of Giuseppe’s increasingly broken English, smiling automatically from time to time; but her mind was alternating between threatening dejection and rising anger.

She was deeply hurt to find that this whole day, which she had found so wonderful until now, had been no more than Miss Jameson’s idea; no more than a gesture on Charles’s part. No voluntary act of kindness, but a prompting from his housekeeper. She was hurt to discover that the conversation which
she
had found so interesting had meant nothing to him. ‘I might have known,’ she thought, and the words repeated themselves over and over in her mind. ‘I might have known. I might have known. He’s found us nothing but a nuisance ever since we came. What I’ve overheard myself should be enough to convince me of that; and how do I know how much more he’s said that I didn’t hear?’ All those unwelcome or derogatory remarks came slowly back into her memory, one by one. She remembered them all with painful clearness.

That first night, before he had even seen them, he had admitted that he had the shock of his life when her parents took up his offer, and had said of them:

‘Don’t worry, this lot won’t upset my work schedule,’ and had said he would leave them to Jeanie. The next day, speaking to Miss Jameson, he had asked ‘Have I
got
to be lumbered with juveniles every day for lunch?’—which nobody could call welcoming.

And what next? Ah yes, it was in this very house, the Contessa’s house, that he had said that her parents were always dropping their children, like foundlings, on other people’s doorsteps. That had made her so angry. And then, laying down the law about Sebastien, he had called her parents irresponsible, and said that
he
was responsible for Sebastien not getting killed or herself not getting raped.

Yet even that wasn’t the sum of it, for now she had discovered that this day—that had been such a marvellous day until now— was nothing more than a duty, a gesture, prompted by Miss Jameson. Moreover, it sounded as if it had been a bore for him, for hadn’t he talked of looking at Michelangelo for the thousandth time? of ‘trailing’ round the Uffizi gallery?

It was true that she had wept a little, but it was not true that she was in floods of tears, nor did she think that Miss Jameson would have used that expression. She was annoyed that Charles should have spoken of her in that way to Margarita. Margarita, with her ‘southern beauty of night-black richness, of mystery’. If that was what Charles liked, her own colouring could not appeal to him.

Suddenly, she interrupted what Giuseppe was endeavouring to explain to her. She had not heard a word of it in any case.

‘Could you possibly get me a taxi?’ she asked him. ‘I have a headache and I would like to leave. ’

‘But—but...’ The poor young man was somewhat puzzled, interrupted in mid-sentence by this sudden request. ‘You came with Signor Duncan, no?’

‘I don’t want to disturb him, or take him away too early. Please,
could
you get me a taxi?’

He went downstairs with her, offering to drive her up to the house, finally accepting that she would prefer a taxi; rather relieved, in fact, that her strange behaviour was due to a bad headache and not to anything that he had done.

Victoria sat in the taxi, not noticing where she was going, not

noticing the sweet smell of the limes that usually gave her such pleasure. Her instinct was to pack up and leave this place. They could drive back to London. There they knew just where they were: in their own place. And Sebastien could go to camp, it was still not too late, and there would be none of this turmoil of mind, none of this feeling unwelcome. She would find out what the others thought about it.

CHAPTER V

Victoria did not need to find out what her sister and brother thought of her plan to return to England. They anticipated her suggestion by revealing quite plainly that they were enjoying their life in Tuscany enormously. She returned to Charles’s house in her taxi to find the two of them on their own terrace, the table between them holding a tray with a jug of Miss Jameson’s freshly-made lemonade on it, and a plate of her famous Scotch shortbread. Amanda was working on her bird embroidery and looking exceptionally contented, and Sebastien was sprawled on one of the long chairs, hands behind his head, a picture of serenity.

‘What happened to Mr. Duncan?’ asked Sebastien.

‘Have you lost him?’

‘Why did you come back in a taxi?’ asked Amanda.

‘We went on to the Contessa’s house—the one I told you about before—and there was a party going on. I wasn’t dressed for it and I didn’t know anybody, and anyway I was tired after all those galleries, so I decided to come home.’

‘Well, I’m jolly glad we didn’t go with you.
We
had a gorgeous day.’

‘What happened?’

‘Well, Giorgio came by this morning, we told you he might, and he invited us down to the farm this afternoon. And he let me ride the bike on the private farm roads. It was absolutely super.’ ‘Sebastien! You know Mr. Duncan expressly forbade you to go on the bike.’

‘No, he didn’t. He said I mustn’t ride on the back of the bike with Giorgio. And I didn’t. I went on my own, and Giorgio says I’m just a natural. And whatever you say, or Mr. Duncan either,

I’m going to do it again. It was wonderful.’

‘I’m sure he
meant
you weren’t to go on the bike.’ Victoria was both anxious and distressed, feeling responsible for the keeping of the promise.

‘He’s just a spoilsport,’ said Sebastien, shrugging.

‘And what about you, Amanda? What did you get up to?’

‘I didn’t
get up
to anything. You needn’t sound so bossy. I just didn’t see why I should spend the afternoon by myself here, so I went along; and while Sebastien was racing round on the bike, I stayed with Signora Beltoni and we talked a lot of Italian together, and she thinks I’m getting along splendidly; and I took my bird embroidery and everybody thought it was beautiful— Giorgio too.’

Amanda was obviously basking in the pleasure that so many compliments had given her. Victoria looked from one to the other.

‘So you’re not quite so fed-up with this place as you were when we came here?’ she asked.

‘No, I reckon it has its points,’ Sebastien said, with the kind of charming smile that made people like him so much.

‘I’m beginning to like it very much, Vicki, and of course it’s because the Beltonis are so kind to us. Nobody could say the people in
this
house are very welcoming, but I adore the Beltonis’ farm; and I believe I’ll speak Italian quite well; it could be very useful to me. Giorgio says I must help him with his English, and he will help me with my Italian.’

‘And,’
added Sebastien, ‘he says he’s going to give a little party at their house to introduce us to some of his friends; and Mama Beltoni got quite excited about it and began to plan what she would cook for it. So you see, life’s looking up.’

Yes, Victoria could see that for her brother and sister life was indeed looking up. Sebastien had found a friend and a powerful motor bike. Amanda too had found a friend and Victoria hoped that her sister would be content to leave it like that.

So she herself was the only one who wanted to pack her things and jump into the car and go back to England; and there was only one reason for her wanting to do it. Charles. He did not want them here. They were a duty, a nuisance, an obligation he had felt he could not avoid. Victoria did not see how she could uproot the other two now that they were accommodating themselves to the life here—more than that, even enjoying it. She decided she would simply have to keep out of Charles’s way. Already, Amanda and Sebastien were shutting him o ut: they lived in a guest wing, they ate separately from Charles, they were making their own life. Victoria must do the same. She was determined about it.

Miss Jameson emerged on to the terrace from Sebastien’s room.

‘I thought I heard your voice,’ she said to Victoria. ‘So you’re back. But Mr. Duncan isn’t.’

‘No, he’s at the Contessa’s house. She’s got a drinks party. ’ ‘And he didn’t take you?’ There was a glint in Miss Jameson’s eye and Victoria thought Mr. Duncan might be in for another lecture if she did not clear matters up quickly, so she said:

‘Yes, he did; but I was tired and I didn’t know anybody, so I came away. You needn’t worry about my social life, Miss Jameson, thank you; I can look after myself.’

‘And who says I
am
worried about your social life? Has Mr. Duncan been talking to you?’

‘He has not—not on that subject anyway. But none of us have any desire to intrude on his working time. But while we’re on the subject, Miss Jameson, is it in order for us to invite people here? We would like to know where we stand. ’

‘Who is it you’re wanting to invite?’

‘In the first instance, Giorgio Beltoni; but we might want to invite other people, and we don’t know where we stand. ’

‘I don’t know of any rule that says you can’t ask your friends here,’ Miss Jameson said drily. ‘I’ve nothing against the Beltonis, they’re a good, respectable family. Just let me know when you’re giving out invitations, so that I can prepare. Now what about supper? Are you ready for it?’

‘Yes, please,’ they said in chorus.

‘Well, there’s one thing I’ll say for you,’ Miss Jameson said grudgingly, ‘ you all enjoy good food. And what about
you
?’ to Victoria. ‘Do you want an aperitif, a Cinzano or something? I suppose you’ve grown out of lemonade?’

Victoria was surprised. Apart from the liqueur on the night of the party, it was the first time Miss Jameson had offered her a drink, and she would not have asked for one. She smiled suddenly, taking Miss Jameson by surprise.

‘That’s very kind of you. Another evening I’d love one; but I won’t now because I had a drink at the Contessa’s.’

‘Well, you can put the cloth and the cutlery on the table, and you’d better light the candles, and I’ll bring your supper,’ and Miss Jameson returned to her kitchen.

Victoria laid the cloth and lit the candles in their tall glasses against the evening twilight, while Amanda brought cutlery from the inside room.

‘Could our Jeanie possibly be thawing out a bit?’ asked Sebastien when she had gone.

‘Sssh, Sebastien, you mustn’t call her Jeanie.’

‘One day I will, to her face.’

‘That’s just what I’m afraid of. ’

‘Then we’d soon know if she’s thawing out or not. The other day, I caught up with her coming back from the little shop, and she’d got quite a basket full of stuff, so I insisted on carrying it. She said there was no need, and
I
said a gentleman always carried a lady’s parcels, and she said what made me think I was a gentleman, and I said, the same reasoning that made me think she was a lady. And she actually laughed! Well, you couldn’t really call it a laugh, it was more like a snort, but I
think
it indicated humour. Up till then, I hadn’t even seen her smile. ’

‘Perhaps,’ suggested Amanda, ‘she finds that we’re not such a nuisance as she thought we would be.’

‘That would make a nice change,’ Sebastien told her. ‘Usually people find we’re more of a nuisance when they’ve had us for a while.’

Victoria was silent. For their sake, she hoped that Miss Jameson might be unbending a little; but she knew that Charles found them a nuisance and she saw no way of improving the situation short of removing themselves from his house.

When Charles returned from Firenze, he stormed out on to the terrace where they were finishing their supper.

‘What happened to you?’ he asked Victoria without preamble.

‘I came home,' she said simply.

‘That
is obvious, but why couldn’t you have told me?’

‘I told Giuseppe. He could have told you.’

‘Giuseppe had gone too. You might have had the politeness to inform me of your plans.’

‘You
might have had the politeness to introduce me to some people. As it was, you were talking to Margarita and I didn’t want to disturb you. ’

‘We searched all over the place for you, in the house and the garden, and nobody knew where you were. Another time,
if
you please, let me know what you’re doing. ’

‘If
there is another time, I will,’ Victoria said heatedly.

Charles became aware of the fact that Sebastien and Amanda were watching and listening to this exchange, wide-eyed, surprised but interested. He forced himself to speak more reasonably.