Moth to the Flame(33)

remaining here.'

'I believe that our arrangement was that you should continue to be

engaged to me until Mario and Francesca were married,' he said

sharply.

'Was that it?' she shrugged. 'I really don't remember. But if you

insist on going on with this, I'm afraid that you'll have to be

contented with an engagement at a distance. I have to return to

work. I'm a schoolteacher, if you remember, and the school year

starts in England in a matter of days.'

'But the wedding-Mario's wedding. You will return for that?'

'Hardly.' She shook her head.

'But my mother will be expecting you to be there.'

'I fail to see why,' she said wearily. 'I think, on the contrary, that

she'll probably give three rousing cheers when she hears I've                       
       
           



       

returned home. Besides, it will be--much easier for you to tell

everyone the engagement is over once I'm back in England. You

can tell them I decided I couldn't settle in Italy, perhaps.'

'Thank you,' he said, his voice like ice. 'I think I can manage to

prepare a story that will satisfy the curious.' His hand shot out and

gripped hers so tightly that she had to suppress a little cry of pain.

'Don't pull away, cara,' he grated. 'The performance is not yet at an

end, and we are happy lovers strolling along a sunlit beach hand in

hand.' She shivered at the molten anger in his voice. 'Tell me, is

your anxiety for your pupils the only reason for this sudden urge to

return to England?'

'Not entirely,' she said slowly, afraid of saying too much, but also of

revealing too much by her silence. 'There are other reasons.'

'And am I aware of those reasons?' He stopped suddenly and swung

her round so that she was standing in front of him with his arms

linked round her waist. To a casual observer, their stance would

look like a light-hearted embrace. Only Juliet knew that the arms

that held her felt like a vice against her flesh, and that there was no

softness on the dark face that stared down into hers. She felt he was

looking through her into her very soul, and that there was not a .

thought or an emotion that was hidden from him,' and the thought

shamed her to the core of her being.

'You may be,' she said wretchedly. What did he want her to say?

she asked herself bitterly. To admit her love and grovel at his feet,

begging him to be merciful?

'So your sister was right,' he said softly, and she felt a deep

mortified blush suffuse her face. Had Jan guessed her secret, she

thought confusedly, and passed it on during one of those laughing

intimate conversations of theirs?

'Poor little Julie.' She could hear the words in her head. 'She's so

dreadfully in love with you. She'll make a wonderfully submissive

wife.' And then Santino, his perceptions sharpened by the hint,

watching her, noting the give-away signs she probably wasn't even

aware of. She wanted to say, yes, but it doesn't matter. I won't cling

or be an embarrassment, just let me go-but the words wouldn't

come. The soft sounds of the day, the wash of the sea at her feet,

the distant laughter of children, were all suddenly magnified and

intensified, and over them all, Santino was saying bleakly, 'Did you

imagine she wouldn't tell me?'

'I didn't even realise that she knew,' she said, and paused, appalled

at the extent of the confession she had just made. She made a little

awkward movement of her hands. 'I'm sorry. But it surely doesn't

matter. If you'll just let me go...'

His arms fell away from her, and she thought for a moment that he

had mistaken her meaning, but then he spoke.

'I've let you go already,' he said harshly. 'Haven't you noticed?'

She looked up at him, realising for the first time that this was why

he had been avoiding her, devoting his free time at the castello to

Jan instead. Being cruel to be kind, she told herself dazedly. Letting

her see at once that she had nothing to hope for. Probably

wondering to himself why her pride hadn't driven her away days

ago.

It came to her rescue now, stiffening her spine and lifting her chin,

and she was thankful for it.

'Then let's not waste any more time,' she said coolly. 'There's only

one snag-my passport and money are still at Jan's apartment, with

the rest of my clothes. I would like to pick them up.'

He gestured impatiently. 'There is no need. I will collect them. I

have to go to Rome tomorrow, and I will return them to you here.'

He stared at her again and was glad that she could not see the look

in his eyes behind those enigmatic glasses because it might have

been pity. 'If-if you are sure that is what you want.'

'Quite sure,' she said, and managed a smile.

She heard him take a quick breath as if he was going to say

something, then stop. For a moment he stood motionless, an odd

tension about his body, then he gave a faint shrug. 'Then there is

nothing more to be said.'

He turned and walked away from her back to where Jan was lying.

Juliet could see that she had turned on to her front and unfastened

the top half of her bikini. As Santino dropped down beside her he

ran a finger down the curve of her spine, and Juliet heard her little

laughing protest in response.

Jealousy, that harsh destructive emotion, tore at her being, and she

thought, 'Oh, please let me go from here soon. I can't stand it any

longer.'

But it appeared that she had to stand that and more, for when she

went downstairs to breakfast the following morning it was to find

herself alone except for a disgruntled Annunziata. Disbelievingly,

she was given to understand that the Signore had already left for                       
       
           



       

Rome, and that her sister had gone with him.

Juliet drank her coffee, feeling as if she had been publicly slapped

in the face. And the situation was not helped by Annunziata's

unspoken but nevertheless overt sympathy.

She spent a forlorn day wandering along the shore, toying with the

appetising food Annunziata anxiously set in front of her, and finally,

in a determined effort to do something positive about her departure,

sorting her clothes from Jan's and hanging those that did not belong

to her in the guest room her sister was occupying. But for how

long? she wondered. Probably as soon as she had left, Jan would

move into Santino's room.

She had no idea how long the journey to Rome and back would

take, but it was nevertheless a shock when evening came and she

found herself eating a solitary dinner. When the meal was over, she

tried to listen to some music on the stereo, but nothing in Santino's

enormous record collection seemed to have any appeal, and when

her choice was finally made, she found her ear was keyed over the

top of the music for the sound of a car approaching along the coast

road.

She could hardly believe it when she glanced at her watch and

found that it was past midnight, and for the first time it occurred to

her that they might not return that night. She flinched inwardly as

the thought and all its implications manifested itself. She wandered

round the room, going to the window every few minutes and staring

out into the velvety blackness, hoping to see it slashed by powerful

headlights. She tried to remember other trips Santino had taken, and

how long he had been away, but her mind refused to work properly.

She sat down in a corner of the sofa and tried to make herself relax,

but all the time she was on edge, listening for the sound of the car.

She had no idea at what hour her weariness and unhappiness

translated itself into sleep, but the next thing she knew it was

daylight and Amiunziata, her face furrowed with worry, was

bending over her, shaking her shoulder insistently.

'Ecco l'auto, signorina,' she announced.

Juliet sat up, wincing from cramped muscles. Her first thought was

flight. It would be dreadful for Santino and Jan to walk in and find

her sitting there waiting for them. Besides, she felt untidy and

dishevelled after her uncomfortable night, and did not want anyone

to see her looking like this. She was halfway up the stairs with

Annunziata busily undoing the bolts on the great door when

something prompted her to turn and look down on the scene below.

The same kind of motive that prompts one to bite on an aching

tooth, she told herself bitterly.

But it was not Santino's tall figure who entered as the door swung

open. It was the Signora. Nor was she alone. Her husband was just

behind her, and a young dark-haired girl whom Juliet had never

seen before. She turned to make her escape but it was too late.

'So you are there, mia figlia. Come here to me,' the Signora

ordered, and Juliet very reluctantly obeyed.

She was subjected to a critical glance from head to foot. 'What is

this?' the Signora demanded. 'Your eyes are red, and you are molto

pallida. Also your clothes are creased. What meaning is this?'

Well aware that Annunziata was standing nearby bursting to give

any information that she failed to provide, Juliet said, 'I-I fell

asleep on the sofa last night.'

'Are there no beds in this place?' the Signora enquired. 'And where

is my son who permits such a thing?'

Before Juliet could answer, Annunziata stepped forward and took

the initiative. As she proceeded, Juliet saw a dark frown appear on