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Authors: Lucinda Riley

Tags: #Fiction, #General, #Romance, #Contemporary, #Historical

The Italian Girl (17 page)

BOOK: The Italian Girl
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‘Say you love me,’ she demanded, as the sensation suddenly stopped.

‘I adore you,’ he whispered, lost in the moment and his own needs.

As Donatella’s mouth encircled him, she smiled inwardly.

It was all she needed to hear.

Rosanna and Abi took their places on the stage of La Scala with the rest of the company. After three weeks in the rehearsal room, it was the first run-through in the theatre itself.

‘It’s huge,’ whispered Rosanna nervously, gazing up from the stage into the vast space of the empty auditorium.

‘I feel like a speck,’ replied Abi, equally nervously.

Rosanna was staring at the great chandelier, suspended 550 feet above them, daydreaming of one day making her debut below it, when Riccardo Beroli clapped his hands and brought her back down to earth.

‘So, we will run through Act One.’

As the chorus took their opening places on the complicated set, Rosanna watched Anna Dupré enter from the wings, deep in conversation with Paolo de Vito. She was playing Adina in Donizetti’s
L’Elisir d’Amore
, the opera that would open the season. Rosanna had been given the role of Giannetta and had one short aria with the ladies’ chorus. She’d waited day after day for Roberto Rossini, who was playing Nemorino, to appear. Even though they’d been rehearsing for the past month, he was yet to attend.

‘Okay, we sing!’ Riccardo signalled for the pianist to begin.

Six gruelling hours later, Abi and Rosanna left the theatre.

‘God! I for one need a drink,’ Abi announced as the two of them linked arms and headed off in the direction of a café just off the Piazza della Scala.

They sat at a table by the window. Abi ordered a glass of wine and Rosanna a mineral water.

‘That was exhausting,’ exhaled Rosanna. ‘It’s all the hanging around while they get the lighting right.’

‘Yes, and you didn’t notice the stars having to do that, did you? Anna Dupré was only here for an hour this morning, and, of course, the great Signor Rossini didn’t bother to appear at all,’ sniffed Abi.

‘I heard Paolo tell Anna that Roberto was in Barcelona for a concert last night.’

‘Someone told me he’s had a couple of private rehearsals and will apparently only appear for the dress runs. He obviously doesn’t wish to associate with us mere mortals.’

‘Don’t be so judgemental, Abi, you don’t even know him.’ Rosanna sprang immediately to Roberto’s defence.

‘No, I don’t, but even you know the stories of his bad behaviour are legend at La Scala. Apparently, he actually had one of the chorus in between “
The Toreador Song
” and “
The Smugglers’ Chorus
” during last season’s
Carmen
. And still had enough breath to sing the finale!’

‘You are terrible, Abi.’ Rosanna had to chuckle. ‘I’m sure it’s all exaggerated.’

‘Probably, but a night of Roberto Rossini, however much of a Lothario he is, might be worth it. I’ve heard he’s brilliant in the sack.’ Abi sipped her wine and rather enjoyed Rosanna’s shocked expression. ‘Besides, I really am going to have to give up all hope of Luca reciprocating my feelings now he’s in a seminary, so surely I deserve some comfort for me and my broken heart?’

‘I’m sorry, I really didn’t realise you were serious about him.’

‘Oh, I was.’ Abi was solemn for a moment. ‘I lost and God won,’ she murmured. ‘Anyway, no use crying over spilt milk, as we say in England. By the way, did you see the tenor sitting next to me on the steps?’

‘You mean, the one who looked a little like Luca?’

‘I suppose he did a bit,’ Abi acknowledged with a blush. ‘I think he’ll be my first target. Cheers.’ She raised her glass and drained the remnants of her wine.

A week later, in their heavy costumes, Rosanna and Abi made their way towards the wings for the dress rehearsal. Rosanna could hear the discordant sound of the orchestra tuning up and saw that there were still a couple of carpenters banging nails into a flat on the vast stage.

Paolo gathered the chorus and cast together on the stage.

‘Okay, ladies and gentlemen, I hope to run straight through with no pauses. We’ll get through as much as we can. Right, opening positions, everyone.’ Paolo nodded to Riccardo, who went to take his position in the orchestra pit.

The chorus had sung only a couple of words before ‘Stop!’ was shouted from the stalls. A wait of twenty minutes followed while something unseen was adjusted to Paolo’s satisfaction. Finally they began again.

Four hours later, Rosanna and Abi were sitting in the stalls drinking coffee out of plastic cups and waiting for Paolo to continue with the rest of Act one.

‘Well, well, well, look who’s decided to grace us with his presence.’ Abi nudged her.

Rosanna looked up and caught her breath as she saw Roberto Rossini speaking to Paolo on the stage.

‘God, he really is attractive, isn’t he? Whoops, I’ve got to go. The chorus are on again.’

Rosanna watched as Abi made her way back to the stage. The chorus sang the last two bars before departing into the wings, then the lights dimmed and Roberto made his entrance.

He stood bathed in the white glow of the spotlight. As he began to sing ‘
Una furtiva lagrima
’, Rosanna sat transfixed.

Two days later, Rosanna stood in the wings, ready to walk on stage and sing her own solo in front of the expectant first-night audience. Although she knew it backwards, and it was not vocally demanding, adrenaline was rushing through her system. She swallowed and concentrated on her breathing to try and calm her nerves. A huge surge of applause came from the audience as Roberto finished singing and strolled off stage towards her. She thought he was going to walk straight past her, but instead he stopped in front of her. He was breathing heavily and she could see the beads of sweat on his forehead.


In bocca al lupo
, Miss Menici,’ he whispered.

‘C
repi il lupo
,’ she returned shyly.

He leant towards her and kissed her gently on the forehead. ‘You will make a perfect debut. Now go.’

Rosanna heard her cue and, with no more time for thought, stepped out onto the stage.

Ten minutes later, she was back in the dressing room she shared with another soloist. Her nerves had left her the minute she’d begun to sing, the years of training allowing her to enjoy the atmosphere of her very first opening night. The applause had been warm and she knew she had sung well. And what was more, Roberto had noticed her. She put her fingers to her forehead, tracing the spot where he had kissed her.

An hour later, the company were assembled on stage taking the thunderous applause of the audience. Roberto and Anna took five curtain calls. Eventually, they made their way back to their dressing rooms. Smiling at her reflection in the mirror as she marked to memory this very special moment, Rosanna changed into a dress and went along the corridor to see Abi in the dressing room she shared with other members of the chorus.

‘Rosanna,
bravissima
!’ Abi kissed her on both cheeks. ‘You sang beautifully. All the chorus thought so. There, you’ve made your first appearance on the stage at La Scala. You might get a review in the paper tomorrow.’

‘Do you think so?’

‘Who knows? But honestly, darling, I still can’t believe you haven’t bought anything new to wear to the party!’ exclaimed Abi. ‘That old black dress of yours is ready for the bin,’ she said, taking her own new red cocktail dress off its hanger.

Rosanna ignored Abi’s comment. She had little interest in clothes. She pulled her dress straight as Abi wriggled into hers, then brushed her blonde hair and expertly touched up her make-up. ‘You look lovely, Abi,’ she said admiringly.

‘Thank you, my darling. Come on, Cinders, let’s go before we miss all the fun.’

They made their way up to the foyer of the opera house. It was already packed with members of the cast and invited members of the audience.

‘Champagne, Rosanna?’ Abi took two glasses from a passing waitress.

‘Thank you.’

‘May this be the first of many first nights!’ Abi smiled. ‘Look, there’s the man himself, surrounded by his adoring public.’

Rosanna turned and saw the top of Roberto’s head just visible above the throng.

‘He’s talking to my aunt. The perfect opportunity. Come on, let’s go over and introduce ourselves.’ Abi took hold of Rosanna’s hand.

‘No, not tonight. I mean, there are so many people, he’s too busy,’ protested Rosanna, suddenly overwhelmed by shyness.

‘Yes, but we
are
members of the same company, even if Signor Rossini acts as if he’s on a superior planet.’

Abi pushed determinedly through the sea of people with Rosanna following meekly behind. Just before they reached the crowd around Roberto, a familiar figure appeared at Rosanna’s side.


Ciao
, Paolo.’ She smiled with relief.


Ciao
, Rosanna. I was hoping you would come and join us.’

Much to Abi’s annoyance, Paolo took Rosanna’s arm and steered her firmly away. Abi shrugged and continued to make her way towards her aunt and Roberto.

‘So, how was your first night as a soloist with the company?’ Paolo asked as they walked across the foyer.

‘It was wonderful,’ she breathed.

‘Good, good. You sang beautifully, Rosanna. It was a perfect debut. Now, tell me honestly, did you wish you were in Anna Dupré’s shoes tonight?’

‘Of course,’ Rosanna admitted reluctantly.

‘Well, from your performance tonight, I’m sure it won’t be long. And Riccardo says you are making great progress in your study together. Cover rehearsals start on Thursday. Work hard, Rosanna. They’re an excellent chance to perfect the roles you will one day sing.’

‘I will, Paolo,’ she promised.

‘Now, Rosanna’ – Paolo lowered his voice – ‘there’s a gentleman over there who I’m afraid is desperate to meet you. He’s a major benefactor of the school and as you are after all last year’s star pupil, I think it would be prudent if I introduced you. Would you be so kind as to follow me?’

Rosanna nodded her acquiescence and allowed Paolo to lead her to him.

Abi tapped her Aunt Sonia on the shoulder. Sonia turned, and, on seeing her niece, kissed her warmly on both cheeks.

‘Darling, congratulations. I thought you looked beautiful in your costume.’ She smiled. ‘I’m sure you must have met Roberto Rossini?’

‘No,’ Abi said, boldly meeting Roberto’s eyes. ‘Even though we’re in the same company, we’ve not been formally introduced.’

‘Well, Roberto,’ said Sonia, ‘this is Abigail Holmes, my niece. I just know she’s going to be a big star one day.’

‘It is a pleasure to meet you, signorina, although I have seen you before,’ he responded. ‘Did you not sing at the benefit for La Chiesa Della Beata Vergine Maria?’


What
a good memory you have, Roberto,’ simpered Sonia.

‘I never forget a pretty face.’ He grinned wolfishly. ‘You were sitting next to Rosanna Menici.’

‘Yes, I was.’

‘She sang her aria exquisitely tonight. Is she here at the party?’

‘Yes, she’s over there somewhere with Paolo.’ Abi was somewhat put out by his apparent interest in Rosanna’s whereabouts.

Noticing her expression, Roberto continued: ‘I’ve known her since she was a little girl, you see. In fact, you could say that I discovered her. She has the most beautiful voice, but then again, I’m sure you do too, Signorina Holmes.’

The way Roberto pronounced her surname sent a tingle up Abi’s spine. But before she could say anything else, she felt a hand on her arm.

‘You must excuse me, my dear, but I need to circulate,’ interrupted Sonia. ‘Take care of her for me, Roberto.’

‘Of course.’ He bowed gallantly as Sonia departed, then looked up at her niece. ‘A glass of champagne, Signorina Holmes?’

‘Yes, I’d love one. And please, call me Abi.’

Roberto retrieved a glass from a nearby waiter and handed it to her. ‘Now, Abi, you must tell me all about yourself.’

An hour later, Rosanna managed to extricate herself from what was becoming a difficult situation. The patron, an older man with a goatish gleam in his eye, had begun to slide his arm up and down her back as they talked. He’d actually had the temerity at one point to rest a hand on her bottom. Having finally escaped on the pretext of visiting the powder room – the only place she could think of where he wouldn’t have an excuse to follow her – she searched the dwindling crowd for Abi. She spotted Sonia and walked over to her.

‘Hello, Signora Moretti. Have you seen Abi anywhere?’

‘No, not for the past half an hour. She was talking to Roberto, but’ – Sonia scanned the room – ‘she seems to have vanished. Maybe she’s already gone back to your little apartment, my dear.’

‘Oh no, she would have told me if she was leaving.’

‘Maybe she was tired. You go home, and I’m sure Abi will be there.’ Sonia smiled at her, then turned away to speak to another guest.

When Rosanna arrived home, the apartment was in darkness. As she sank into bed, she thought how unlike Abi it was not to tell her she was leaving.

Abi lay staring at the silhouette of the man beside her. After he had made love to her, with surprising gentleness, Roberto had promptly fallen asleep. Now she wasn’t sure whether she should stay or go home.

She’d put up no resistance when he’d asked her to accompany him back to the Via Manzoni. The kissing had started in his limousine and when they’d arrived at his apartment, they’d only just made it to the bed. Abi sighed to herself in the darkness. The fleeting pain of losing her virginity had soon been outweighed by pleasure, and, she reflected, by the exhilaration of his having chosen
her
tonight. Her thoughts strayed briefly to Rosanna. She chewed her lip as she imagined her friend’s disappointment at her actions, but eventually fell into a deep and dreamless sleep.

16

‘I’m sorry, what did you say?’

‘I just told you. I’m leaving you.’ Donatella continued to calmly eat her tiramisu at the other end of the table.

‘Are you out of your mind?’ Giovanni exploded. ‘We sit down to dinner as we normally do, you wait for the dessert, then announce this as though you’re asking me for a new dress!’

BOOK: The Italian Girl
3.73Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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