Moth to the Flame(24)

winding it round her shaking fingers.

'Santino!' It was a woman's voice, and Juliet flinched involuntarily

as it came to her ears. Was she to be spared nothing? she

wondered.

But the woman who erupted into the room only a second later was

certainly not of an age to have been Santino's mistress. Her black

hair was liberally streaked with grey, and her figure though not

without dignity was short and inclined to be plump. She was

elegantly dressed in black and diamonds glinted on her fingers and

in her ears, and it only needed Santino's amazed 'Mamma?' to make

her identity more than clear.

A flood of excited Italian burst upon Juliet's ears as she sat on the

corner of her sofa, wishing that the floor would open and swallow

her. But there was no chance that she could make her escape to the

stairs unobserved. In spite of her impassioned monologue which

Santino was listening to as if he had been turned to stone, the little

lady's eyes were darting all over the room and they had already

sharpened as Juliet came under their scrutiny. She had also been

seen by the man who had accompanied her into the room, a tall man

with a calm rather distinguished face and iron-grey hair who was

staring at her with a puzzled frown as if she reminded him of

someone.

Juliet bit her lip. She knew what he must be thinking, and she did

not even have the saving grace of a denial. But for their arrival,

Santino would be making love to her at that moment.

Even as she acknowledged silently the truth of this realisation, she                       
       
           



       

heard Santino say impatiently, 'Si, Mamma, ma un momento.

Aspetti, per piacere.'

He turned away abruptly and came over to where she was sitting.

His dark face was harsh as he looked down at her. 'Mario is in

hospital,' he said. 'He was injured when his car crashed near

Naples.'

Her lips parted as she registered what he was saying, and an

anxious gasp escaped her. 'Jan,' she got out. 'Was Jan with him? Is

she all right?'

His mouth curled contemptuously. 'Is that all you can say?' he

demanded. 'More lies, more fairy tales?'

Before she could reply, the Signora walked across the room and

stood staring at her. 'Chi e lei?' she demanded curiously.

'Speak English, Mamma,' Santino advised. 'It's the only thing

Signorina Laurence understands.'

'Laur-ence?' The Signora pronounced the name thoughtfully, then

recoiled. 'Santa Madre, it is the name of that one!' She swung on

Santino. 'What you do with a girl who has the same name as that

one?'

'Mamma,' Santino took her arm pacifically, 'this is the girl that

Mario was involved with, but you don't have to worry any more

because ..,'

'This girl?' The Signora gazed long and hard at Juliet, her eyes

narrowed. 'No,' she said at last. 'Is like. Is very like. But is not that

girl.'

'Mamma, what are you saying?' Santino's voice was hoarse.

'I say is not that girl,' his mother replied reasonably. 'How she come

here, anyway, when she in hospital, same as my Mario?'

Santino paid no attention to the serene logic of her argument. He

said half to himself, 'But it can't be!' Then he took Juliet's arms in a

grip that hurt and drew her to her feet. He said harshly, 'Who are

you, and this time it had better be the truth.'

Juliet flung back her head defiantly. 'I told you who I was,' she said.

'My name is Juliet and I'm Janina Laurence's older sister. I'm a

schoolteacher and I come from England.'

'A schoolteacher?' he echoed with a mirthless laugh. He released

her and turned away. 'Dio, what a mess!'

The Signora laid a beautifully manicured hand on his arm. 'What

does she say? That she is the sister of that other one-that...'

'Si, Mamma,' Santino hastily cut across, the clearly

uncomplimentary description his mother was about to give. 'She is

her sister.'

'Holy Saints!' The Signora tottered to one of the other sofas and sat

down, producing a lacy handkerchief which she pressed to her

mouth. 'How I am cursed,' she announced to the room at large.

'Some mother have sons who marry and give them grandchildren. I

have sons who play around with women no one will ever marry. Is

it not bad enough that Mario who is young and a fool runs off with

such a one? Have you learned no more wisdom than he has?'

She made no further effort to speak English, but broke into a flood

of impassioned Italian which Juliet was thankful she did not

understand, judging by the fulminating looks the Signora kept

casting in her direction. Santino made no attempt to stem the flow

of words, but stood quietly his head slightly bent. Juliet saw that he

was very white under his tan.

It was the other man who came to the rescue. Strolling forward, he

laid a hand on the Signora's shoulder. His English was good but

heavily accented. 'Peace, cara. Santino understands your feelings.

There is no need to continue.' He turned towards Juliet and made

her a courteous old-fashioned bow. 'You will forgive my wife,

signorina. In her anxiety over her son she has neglected to tell you

that your sister who you will have heard is also in hospital is not

seriously injured. A couple of broken ribs, that is all.'

Juliet gave a long sigh. 'Thank God!' she murmured. 'Thank you,

signore. I-I shall have to let my mother know.'

'But not tonight,' Santino said brusquely. 'You have heard my

stepfather say she is not badly injured.' He looked down at her and

his face was that of a forbidding stranger. The lover who had

caressed her to the brink of madness and surrender only a few short

minutes before had vanished as if he had never existed. Perhaps he

never had. He had spoken of fairy tales; maybe it had all been part

of it. She felt very weary suddenly and a little sick. She wanted

very badly to go to her room, away from these hostile eyes that

seemed to be boring into her, but her legs seemed to have turned to

jelly and would not support her properly so that she staggered a

little as she started to move.

'Attenzione, Santino!' It was his stepfather speaking. 'I think the

signorina is unwell.'

Without a word, and before she could utter a protest, Santino

swung her up into his arms and started towards the stairs, his face

paler than she had ever seen it and strangely set as if he found his

task distasteful.

But had she really expected anything else? she thought, a feeling of

desolation creeping over her. She'd known all along what would                       
       
           



       

happen once he knew the truth.

Santino did not speak until they were inside the room she had

moved her clothes into. He laid her on the bed and turned away.

'I'll send Annunziata to you,' he said abruptly.

'Santino.' She levered herself up on to one elbow and gazed at him

appealingly. 'How did it happen-the accident, I mean?'

'I don't know,' he said levelly. 'It is one of many questions for which

answers will have to be found. As soon as I have some definite

information, I will let you know. Goodnight -' he paused and his

mouth curved slightly into a mirthless smile. 'Goodnight, Giulietta.'

He walked to the door and went out, closing it behind him. Juliet

lay back against her pillows, her eyes closed, fighting the tears of

strain that threatened to overwhelm her. Poor Jan, she thought,

starting her honeymoon in hospital, but she Supposed she ought to

be glad that they had both apparently escaped serious injury. And

she should be glad too that the whole story was out in the open

now, and that her charade was over for good and all.

I should be glad, she told herself. I should be-but I'm not.

She turned over and buried her face in the pillow.

'If only they'd waited a few more hours,' she whispered achingly.

'Oh, why did they have to come just at that moment? Why couldn't

they have let me have tonight?'

Juliet awoke very early the next morning. She had not expected to

be able to sleep, but a rather worried-looking Annunziata had

appeared at her bedside the previous night carrying a tray with a

glass beaker in a silver holder which she told Juliet contained a

tisana. It was hot and tasted of herbs, but it was oddly refreshing

and under Annunziata's watchful gaze Juliet felt impelled to drain it

down to the last drop. Almost in spite of herself, she felt soothed,

and it was soothing too to feel Annunziata's hands smoothing her

pillow and drawing the coverlet up around her shoulders with little

pats and soft mutterings.

Although none of her problems had actually retreated during the

night, Juliet could' not help but feel refreshed by her hours of deep,

dreamless sleep. She got out of bed and wandered across to the

window,. pushing back the heavy shutters. Below her the sea

moved gently, every tiny billow sparkling gold in the early sun. The

air smelt fresh and clean, and a solitary bird wheeled and dipped

high above in the cloudless sky.

Juliet sighed and pushed her hair back from her face. Somehow

today she had to get to the hospital to see Jan. Although she wasn't

seriously hurt, broken ribs were nevertheless uncomfortable, and

she would obviously be shaken after the crash.

At the same time Juliet had to face the fact that she was not looking

forward to this reunion     with her sister. She felt that her discoveries