Torquil continued to smoke complacently. ‘Because I know her every movement, angel.’
‘You little spy,’ she said, rolling onto her front and running a long nail down his chest. ‘Do you spy on me too?’
‘That’s none of your business.’
‘It’s sick that you are reduced to spying on your women.’
‘It’s not spying. You don’t seem to understand. I’m looking out for her.
She’s young and vulnerable.’
‘You’re spying on her. If she’s smart she’s sleeping with your informant. That’s what I’d do.’ She giggled.
‘And I’d kill you,’ he replied, fixing her with stony eyes. She flinched with a perverse kind of pleasure as she detected the menace in his expression.
‘Your little wife is not so little any more.’ Lucia grinned and ran a tongue over her thumbnail.
‘She’s not fat if that’s what you’re implying.’
‘Not fat, just fatter.’
‘She’s softer to lie on. I like it,’ he said. ‘Besides, if she were skinny like you I might muddle you both up in the dark.’
‘We both have Italian names, I’m surprised you haven’t already put your big foot in it.’
‘I never lose control. You of all people should know that.’
‘Do you love her?’ she asked sulkily.
‘Yes,’ he replied. ‘I love her to distraction.’
‘Well, it’s one very happy marriage then, isn’t it?’ she stated with sarcasm. ‘But I adore you too.’ Then she sat up and pouted at him, allowing her long
black hair to fall over her breasts, firm like newly whipped egg whites. ‘Why didn’t you marry me? I’m more beautiful than she is, more intelligent, more street-wise, I’m independent and worldly and I have no doubt that I’m a better lover. So, why didn’t you? Dimmi, porcine non ci siamo mai sposati?'
Torquil stubbed his cigarette into the ashtray and rolled out of bed. ‘For all those reasons, angel,’ he replied. ‘For all those reasons.’
When Federica returned home in the early afternoon, Torquil was waiting for her. He embraced her in his duplicitous arms but she felt nothing but a tingling numbness and saw in front of her eyes those black clouds of doubt. ‘Are you all right, little one?’ he asked, stroking her hair. ‘You look exhausted.’
‘It was very sad,’ she replied, shaking her head, trying not to look into his eyes.
‘I missed you,’ he said. ‘I could hardly sleep without you.’
Federica smiled tightly. ‘I need a hot bath,’ she mumbled, pulling away from him.
‘And a massage,’ he suggested.
‘No really, just a bath will do.’ She sighed, putting her handbag down and
slipping out of her shoes.
‘I want to rub away your suffering.' he said and followed her up the stairs. ‘I know exactly how to cheer you up.'
Federica shuddered.
Torquil ran her a steaming bath scented with lavender essence and sat talking to her while she washed away the memory of Sam and her nostalgia. He told her he was planning to take her away on a long, hot holiday to Mauritius. ‘You’re anxious, sweetness, it’s no wonder you’re having trouble conceiving,’ he said.
Federica felt a sense of panic creep up to her throat where it tightened its grip and made it difficult to breathe. ‘What you need is a relaxing holiday in the sun. We can make love all day.’
‘Yes,’ she replied hoarsely, although the idea made her skin prickle with repugnance.
When she declined his offer of a massage and began to get dressed, he insisted that she needed it. ‘God, you’re tense,’ he said, rubbing her shoulders. ‘You see?’
‘I’m fine, really,’ she insisted.
‘Lie down.’
‘I’m fine, Torquil, please.’
‘Little one, I know what’s best for you, don’t I?’ he said, pushing her towards the bed. ‘Now, do as you’re told and let me massage away all that strain.’ Reluctantly she lay naked on her front and closed her eyes because if she opened them she feared she might cry. His strong hands kneaded her skin with lavender oil, rubbing away at the muscles that were taut around her shoulders and neck. The room was warm and she was hot from her bath. Soon his hands got the better of her and she felt her body relax against her will. Her mind cleared of thoughts of Nuno, her family and her conversation with Sam and concentrated on the pleasurable feeling of his fingers on her flesh. She was balancing on that tenuous border between meditation and sleep when her senses were alerted to his sudden shift in position.