The Real Romero(61)
She guessed that this was his subtle way of informing his mother that all was not quite right in the land of wonderful love and happy-ever-afters.
Had Antonia noticed? Milly didn’t know. She had thought of trying to open a discussion on the subject, maybe starting with a few vague generalities before working her way up to her and Lucas and what they had, and then ending by finding out what Antonia’s thoughts were. But she always chickened out because she wasn’t sure she would be able to hang on to her composure if the questions became too targeted.
Right now Lucas was downstairs. He usually stopped working around six so that he could spend some time with Antonia while Milly was upstairs having a bath, changing...analysing her thoughts and coming up empty handed.
And, while Milly relaxed downstairs, usually with a glass of freshly squeezed lemonade, he took the opportunity to get cleaned up. It was a clever game of avoidance that Antonia didn’t seem to notice, but Milly noticed it more and more because she was noticing everything more and more.
Tonight, Milly entered the sitting room to find Antonia there sipping a glass of juice, her book resting on her lap.
Like all the other rooms in the splendid house, this one was airy and light with pale walls and furnishings and adjustable wooden shutters to guard against the blistering sun during the hot summer months. And, as with all the rooms, the air was fragrant with the smell of flowers, which were cut from the garden several times a week and arranged by Antonia herself in an assortment of brightly coloured vases to be dispersed throughout the house.
‘I wanted to see how the dress looked.’ She beamed and beckoned Milly across and then ordered her to do a couple of turns so that she could appreciate it from every angle. ‘Beautiful.’
‘I don’t know about that,’ Milly said awkwardly. ‘I’m not accustomed to wearing dresses.’
‘You should. You have the perfect figure to carry them off. Not like those scrawny women my son has dated in the past. Like boys! Simpering and preening themselves and looking in every mirror they pass! Pah! I tell him, “Lucas, those are not real women, they are plastic dolls and you can do better than that”...’ She smiled smugly and waved Milly into a chair.
‘We have our differences,’ Milly said weakly, determined to head off an awkward situation at the pass. ‘You might think that those model types are no good for Lucas but in fact...in fact...they suit him far more than you might imagine. I mean...’ She leaned forward and stared earnestly at the handsome woman in front of her whose head was tilted to one side, all the better to grasp what was being said because, impeccable though her English was, she still became lost in certain expressions. ‘It’s okay to be outspoken but, in the end, it can get on a guy’s nerves.’
‘Is that what happened to your last boyfriend?’ Antonia asked gently. ‘Was that why it all fell apart, my dear?’
Milly blushed. She had breezily and vaguely skimmed over the details of the broken engagement that had supposedly encouraged her into the arms of her one true love, Lucas. Antonia had conveniently not dwelled on the subject. Now, she was waiting for some girlish confidence.
‘It fell apart,’ Milly said slowly, ‘Because he didn’t love me and, as it turns out, I didn’t love him either.’ This was the first time she was actually saying aloud what she had been privately thinking. ‘I was just an idiot,’ she confessed. ‘I’d had a crush on Robbie when I was a teenager...’ She smiled, remembering the gawky, sporty kid she had been, more at home with a hockey stick than a glass of vodka, which had been the in drink at the time with all the under-age drinkers: the alcohol could be camouflaged by whatever you happened to dilute it with and parents could never tell you were actually getting a little tipsy at parties.