‘But he loves me,’ she protested weakly.
Sam squeezed her hands. ‘No he doesn’t, Fede. He wants to possess you,
like his car or his house. If he loved you he’d take pleasure in your freedom, in your growing confidence, in your successes. If he loved you he’d encourage you to make your own path in life. He’d have bought you a camera and paid for you to have lessons rather than buying you ridiculous shoes and handbags, like a doll for him to manipulate. You’re not a doll, Fede, you’re a person with your own ideas and your own personality. If you go back he’ll just sap you dry until you’re incapable of a single personal thought. Think about it.’
She stood staring into his eyes knowing that he was right, because she had worked it out herself.
‘Okay, let’s do it,’ she said firmly. ‘But when we leave the house I want to talk to him,’ she insisted. Then when she noticed Sam’s eyebrows rise in objection she added hastily, ‘I need to tell him myself. I need to prove to myself that I can do it.’
Twenty minutes later when Sam and Federica descended the steps which led onto the pavement, Torquil ran up to her and threw his arms around her. Sam immediately tried to separate them. ‘Leave us alone!’ Torquil growled. There followed a brief tussle during which Federica managed to wriggle free.
‘Go away, Torquil!’ she shouted. ‘It’s over.’ Then she noticed his dejected face, his bloodshot eyes and his shoulders, which stooped pitifully.
‘I haven’t slept all night. I’ve been so worried,’ he explained, raising his palms to the sky. ‘You could have let me know where you were. I thought you’d been abducted.’
Federica turned to Sam. ‘Wait for me in the cab,’ she instructed. With a suspended heart Sam walked away from her. He stood by the car ready to intercede if she needed him, but he hoped she wouldn’t need him. She had to learn not to need anyone, not her father, not her husband, not anyone. Once she had mastered that she’d be ready to love properly. He didn’t mind how long it took, he’d wait for her.
‘That photograph was taken years ago, little one. Didn’t you notice it was old?’ Torquil argued, reaching out for her. But Federica stepped back, putting her hands up to keep him at a distance. ‘Come on, sweetness, I’m not having an affair. I love you. I’m lost without you. We’re good together.’
‘It’s over, Torquil,’ she replied, shaking her head.
‘Don’t be a fool, Federica. You’re angry, I understand. Let’s just go home and talk this through sensibly. Don’t throw what we have away. It’s so special,’
he implored, casting his eyes over at Sam who stood by protectively.
‘Don’t call me “little one”. I hate it,’ she snapped, suddenly empowered by Torquil’s vulnerability. ‘I’m not coming home.’
Torquil tried to ignore the defiant tone in her voice. ‘It’s not what you think, damn it!’ he snarled, repressing his frustration with gritted teeth. ‘So I made a mistake keeping that photograph, are you going to punish me for a little mistake? What’s important is that I love you. Love is about forgiveness, goddammit.’
‘Love is about trust,’ she replied coldly.
‘Then trust me when I tell you I’m not having an affair. Lucia’s an old friend, that photograph was a joke.’
‘I don’t believe you.’
‘Do you believe me when I tell you I love you,’ he pleaded with her.
‘You don’t love me, Torquil. You want to possess me, like your car, or your house. I’m like a doll, you dress me, you take me out every now and then to play with me, but you don’t love me. If you did you’d let me make my own decisions.’ Federica began to feel light in the head with the swelling of her confidence.
Torquil was stunned. She had never spoken like that before. He breathed in through his nose like a seething bull, unable to control his growing anger. ‘What are you going to?’ he said quietly, narrowing his eyes aggressively. ‘A provincial town on the coast? Back to your neurotic mother or your bourgeois grandparents?’ Then he nodded in Sam’s direction and added cuttingly, ‘Or to a family of eccentrics?’ Sam suppressed his smile. ‘I can give you everything you want.’
Federica straightened herself up boldly. ‘What? A few more handbags, a few more pairs of shoes? Please, Torquil, don’t patronize me. You’re hollow inside and I don’t want to be with you any more. We’ll communicate through lawyers and don’t try to follow me, because, you know what? Sam’s family eccentricities are contagious and you wouldn’t want to catch them like I have, would you?’