‘Now listen, Helena. Federica might not like me very much for obvious reasons, but I’ve watched her grow up and I care for her very deeply.’
‘So do I,’ she retorted. ‘She’s my daughter, not yours.’
Arthur sighed and narrowed his small brown eyes, resisting the temptation to shout at her. ‘I’m only suggesting we do something to help, she’s clearly having a hard time. She needs our support,’ he said gently.
‘What do you want to do? Rush in on a white charger?’ she laughed
scornfully. ‘Fede doesn’t want our help. If she did, she would have asked for it. Look, she’s top to toe in designer clothes, has more money than King Midas and a husband who clearly worships the ground she walks on. So she looks unhappy; it was Nuno’s funeral, if you remember, not exactly a time for celebration.’
‘But she never comes down to see us.’
‘She doesn’t have time.’
‘She loves her home, the countryside, the Applebys.’
‘She’s moved on, Arthur, that’s what no one can bear to admit. She’s left us all behind. That’s fine by me. She’s chosen a better life for herself than being stuck down here in bloody obscurity.’
Arthur stared at her in fury. He rarely lost his temper, but this time Helena had gone too far. His face swelled like a ripe tomato. ‘Well if you're not happy with your lot, madam, why don’t you just leave!’ he shouted, throwing his papers onto the floor. Helena gaped at him in surprise. He never raised his voice. ‘Go on, put your money where your mouth is, because I’m sick and tired of your hot air!’ And with that he left the room.
Chapter 36
‘What’s this?’ Lucia asked, pulling Federica’s butterfly box out of her bedside table drawer, where she now kept it hidden beneath her books.
‘I don’t know,’ said Torquil, sitting up in bed and lighting a cigarette.
‘How sweet,’ she said, opening it. ‘Adorabile.}
‘Well, what’s in it?’
‘Letters.’
‘Letters?’
‘Mmm.’ She sighed, pulling one out. ‘Che carina.1
‘Who the fuck are they from?’ he asked furiously, grabbing it out of her hand. He opened up the first well-handled epistle and turned it over. His shoulders dropped with relief. ‘They’re from her father.’
‘Sweet,’ she said in a patronizing tone. ‘You’re so possessive.’
‘Like I told you, she’s my wife, she belongs to me and I adore her.’
‘What about me?’
‘You don’t belong to anyone.’ He smirked.
‘Torkie!’ she breathed huskily, pretending to be hurt.
‘All right,’ he conceded. ‘You belong to me part-time.’
‘I don’t sleep with anyone else, you know.’
‘I know. I’d kill you if you did,’ he said and looked at her steadily with impassive green eyes.
‘Give me one of those letters, I want to read it,’ she said excitedly. She liked it when he was masterful.
‘No you can’t,’ he replied, folding the letter up and putting it back in the box.
‘Torkie, come on, don’t be a spoilsport.’
‘I said, no. Drop it.’ He enjoyed playing Lucia off against his wife.
‘Don’t speak to me like that, I’ve just allowed you to ravage my body.’ She laughed.
‘And you enjoyed every minute of it. When I’m ready I’ll take you again.’
‘I might not let you,’ she goaded.
‘I’m stronger than you are. I’ll pin you down and fight my way into you. Don’t think you can ever prevent me from getting what I want, when I want it.’
‘I like it when you sound rough. Like a gangster.’ She smiled and stretched like a glossy cat. ‘I wish Federica would spend the night away more often.’
‘Absolutely not,’ he replied. ‘The fewer the better. I like her to be where I can
see her.’
‘You’re a jealous husband.’
‘She thrives under my guidance. She needs me. She’d be lost without me.’
‘Then why the diavolo are you sleeping with me?’
Torquil smiled at her indulgently. ‘Because, my angel, you work in an entirely different department. Fede’s my wife. You’re my lover. I love you both in different ways. I wouldn’t want to be without either of you. Besides, you and I go back a long, long way. It’s hardly an affair. Rather the continuation of an old friendship.’
‘How do you know she’s not having an affair?’ Lucia asked, fixing him with her wide Italian eyes.