The Italian Matchmaker (22 page)

‘Daddy!’ cried Juno, running over and crouching by the side of the water. ‘Where have you been?’

‘In town,’ he lifted himself up to kiss her cheek.

‘You’re all wet.’ She wiped her face with her caterpillar.

‘Are you going to get in?’

‘Can we play Naughty Crocodile?’

Luca pushed himself away into the middle of the pool. ‘The Naughty Crocodile is feeling very hungry today,’ he growled. Juno wriggled out of her dress and scrambled into her bathing suit, Coco watching warily from the side. ‘Come on Coco,’ cajoled her father. ‘You’re not going to ruin your manicure in the water. If you don’t get in, the Naughty Crocodile will have to climb out and catch you.’

‘You’re not allowed out of the pool,’ protested Coco. ‘That’s the rule.’

‘Who makes up the rules?’

‘I do,’ said Coco, as Sammy unzipped the back of her dress. ‘Granny is making me a tutu,’ she added breezily. ‘She’s going to cover it in sequins.’ Luca looked quizzically at Sammy.

‘She’s promised, hasn’t she, Coco?’ said Sammy.

‘More work for poor Ventura!’

That night Luca lay with his hands behind his head, gazing up at the shadows cast by the silver light of the moon across the plaster, and indulged himself with thoughts of Cosima. He had left the shutters open so that the gentle sounds of the night could enter the room: the ringing of crickets, the scuffling of small animals, the breeze rustling through the trees. He longed to tell Caradoc, but he wasn’t a teenager bragging about his latest conquest. He was a man in his forties, falling in love for the first time. Previous relationships he had enjoyed, from Freya to Claire, had only scratched at the surface of his heart. Cosima had entered the very core, like an arrow, where she remained, digging a little deeper with each uncertain smile. Everything about her fascinated him. He touched her but she still felt out of reach; he kissed her, yet she held herself back. And each time she smiled, he felt she gave him something special which she gave to no one else.

He must have drifted off to sleep for he was awoken at three o’clock by one of his daughters crying. At first he thought he was dreaming; the girls never cried for him. But the crying grew louder and more urgent. He stumbled out of bed and threw his dressing-gown over his pyjama bottoms. When he reached their room Juno was being comforted by Coco. He gathered her into his arms. ‘What is it darling?’ he asked gently, stroking her forehead.

‘Daddy!’ Juno sobbed. ‘I’m frightened.’

‘She’s had a nightmare,’ said Coco importantly.

‘You’re all right now. Daddy’s here.’

‘I think it’s the bear again.’

Sammy appeared in the doorway, her hair dishevelled, her eyes half closed. ‘Is everything okay?’ she asked, folding her arms in front of the skimpy vest top that she wore over floral shorts.

‘It’s fine, Sammy, thank you. You can go back to bed.’ Sammy sloped off. ‘Now, sweetheart, tell me what you dreamed about?’

Juno hugged her caterpillar. ‘A big bear chasing me.’

‘There are no bears in Italy.’

‘It’s not a real bear, Daddy. It’s a monster bear,’ said Coco, climbing back into bed.

‘Well, there are no monster bears. Do you think Granny Romina would put up with any monster bears in her palace?’ Juno smiled timidly and shook her head. ‘Now, I’m only down the corridor if you need me. But if you think of nice things you’ll dream of nice things.’

‘Like Greedy,’ said Coco.

‘And playing Naughty Crocodile,’ Juno whispered, closing her eyes.

Luca tucked her back into bed and kissed her forehead. Then he went over to Coco. ‘I’m sorry she woke you up, darling.’

‘It’s okay, Daddy. I’m used to it,’

‘Would you rather sleep on your own?’

She shook her head. ‘Juno needs me.’

‘You’re a good sister, Coco. Juno’s lucky to have you.’

‘Can I have a cuddle too?’

Luca was touched. Coco’s devotion was harder to win. When he climbed back into his own bed he had experienced an unfamiliar emotion: what it was to be needed.

The following morning, after an early swim with the girls, Luca slipped away to the
trattoria
to meet Cosima. She was waiting for him in a green dress, her hair loose about her shoulders. ‘Hello, beautiful,’ he said, slipping his hand around her waist and kissing her cheek. The scent of lemons transported him back to the evening before up at the fort.

She looked around furtively. ‘Careful, Luca. Things are not so good between Rosa and me. Let’s not make them worse.’ He looked puzzled. ‘She likes you,’ she explained, tilting her head. ‘Are you surprised?’

‘Not really,’ he conceded. ‘I can’t say I haven’t encouraged her a little.’

‘You’re a flirt.’

‘You wouldn’t talk to me,’ he protested. ‘But you grabbed my attention the first moment I saw you.’

‘On the beach, with Francesco.’

‘You looked so sad. You broke my heart.’

‘Is he here now?’

Luca looked around the quay and beach. ‘No, he’s usually playing on that bollard. That’s how I know you’re near.’

‘I’ll take your word for it, because I so want it to be true.’

‘I wish I could prove it to you.’

‘I have to trust you.’

‘You know you can.’ He took her hand. ‘You can trust me completely.’

They walked along the sea front to a secluded pebble beach where they sat, gazing out at the vast ocean.

‘You’re very special, Cosima.’

‘I haven’t felt special in a very long time.’

‘Since Riccardo?’

‘Yes, since Riccardo.’

He looked at her earnest face. ‘I’m falling in love with you.’

‘You barely know me.’

‘That’s irrelevant. It’s about feeling you. I trust my instinct. You’re as special as I think you are.’

‘Tell me about you,’ she said, as he buried his face in her neck.

‘Do we have to talk?’

‘I feel you too, Luca, but I also want to know the facts.’

‘Then you’ll kiss me back?’

She ran a finger down his bristly face. ‘Then I’ll kiss you until lunch.’

At midday Dennis Mendoros and his daughter, Stephanie, rolled up in his shiny Maserati
Quattro Porte
. Greek by nationality, Dennis was born in Sudan and raised in Yorkshire, though he had never lost the strong accent that English women found irresistible. He was blessed with dark, Mediterranean skin and intelligent brown eyes, but it was his smile, dazzling white against his tan, that could light up a small continent. Romina, who had always found Dennis attractive, enveloped him in her arms like a white linen butterfly.

‘Stephanie,’ she beamed, reluctantly pulling away from the girl’s father. ‘So lucky to have you too!’ She ran her eyes over the leggy young woman who stood before her and momentarily entertained the idea of bringing her and Luca together. With long, glossy hair the colour of a chestnut pony’s and her father’s brown skin and eyes, she was a beauty. ‘How old are you now, Stephanie?’

‘Twenty-one.’

Romina struggled to hide her disappointment. ‘So young,’ she sighed.
Too young
, she thought. ‘
Che peccato !
 ’

She led them through the
palazzo
to the terrace, showing off the inner courtyard with its trickling fountain and lemon trees on the way. Stephanie admired the pretty pastel colours and elegant decoration. ‘I’d love to live in a place like this, it’s so serene.’

‘You have to find your prince first, Stephanoula,’ replied her father.

‘There are plenty of handsome Italian boys in Incantellaria,’ volunteered Romina.

‘And if they so much as look at my daughter I will grind their bones to powder!’

Caradoc and Nanni were on the terrace, waiting for lunch and discussing the merits of the ancient philosophers; Ma was drinking lemonade in the shade, eavesdropping; Bill was in the garden working out where he wanted to create a grotto: while Sammy and the children were in their rooms changing out of their swimsuits.

Bill hurried up the garden to greet Dennis. ‘My dear fellow, how good it is to see you!’ he said, shaking him firmly by the hand.

‘You have a beautiful home,’ said Dennis admiringly. ‘You’re a very talented man, Bill.’

‘I couldn’t have done it without my wife.’

‘It was a labour of love,’ said Romina. ‘Now, who do you know?’ She proceeded to make the introductions, taking pleasure in assembling such an eclectic group of people.

‘Dennis is an old friend,’ she explained to her brother and the professor. ‘He makes his own aeroplanes.’

‘That is a little exaggeration, my love,’ Dennis corrected. ‘I’m an aeronautical engineer.’

‘But he has flown helicopters and aeroplanes since he was a little boy. You’re too modest, darling!’

‘You’re Greek,’ observed the professor, narrowing his eyes like an iguana. ‘With a little something else.’

‘Born in Sudan.’

‘From Kelbrook, Yorkshire’ added Stephanie.

‘A delicious mixture,’ Romina gushed.

‘Don’t look too closely.’ Dennis grinned mischievously. ‘It’s not good to look at a donkey when it’s giving you a present.’

‘Or as we’d say,’ said Stephanie, ‘don’t look a gift-horse in the mouth.’

Nanni roared with laughter. ‘I like you, Dennis.’

‘Come, Stephanie.’ The professor, took her by the arm. ‘Come and tell me a little bit about yourself. You’re a very beautiful girl. I’m too old to enter the arena, but I’m not too old to admire from afar. You, my dear, have my total admiration.’

Luca arrived late for lunch, grinning at his good fortune. ‘It’s a beautiful day!’ he exclaimed as he walked out on the terrace. Coco and Juno sprang down from the table like monkeys and threw their arms around his waist.

‘Where have you been?’ his mother asked.

‘Up to no good, I suspect,’ said Ma. ‘He looks much too pleased with himself this morning.’

‘I’ve been reading the papers in town,’ Luca replied coolly.

‘Why do you have to go into town all the time, when the best coffee is served here with the newspapers your father buys especially?’

‘There’s little to be had here in the way of adventure. Let the boy enjoy himself,’ said Nanni, wriggling his toes as Porci took the liberty of lying across them.

‘You know Dennis and Stephanie,’ said Bill.

Dennis extended his hand. ‘We haven’t seen each other for a long time.’

‘Just don’t tell me I’ve grown,’ laughed Luca.

‘Nor me,’ Stephanie added.

‘But you have!’ he retorted, walking around the table to kiss the young woman he had known as a teenager.

‘Wait until she stands up,’ Romina added. ‘She has the longest legs I’ve ever seen.’
It’s worth a try
, she thought.

After a while their conversation turned to the intruder and Bill took pleasure in telling Dennis how he had been accused by his wife of taking secret naps in the afternoons. ‘I wish I had the time,’ he lamented.

‘Everyone has time if they want it,’ Romina replied.

‘Have you been down to the folly today?’ Nanni asked his nephew.

‘Not yet.’

‘But you said you’d lie in wait and catch the intruder,’ Romina cried. ‘I’m almost too frightened to go in there now and it’s my favourite place in the world!’

‘Perhaps you ought to involve the police,’ Stephanie suggested.

‘What do you expect them to do? Guard the place?’ said Romina. ‘They’re hopeless! No, Luca. You’re going to catch her. You haven’t got a job at the moment, so that will be your challenge. Whoever left that scarf, I want her out!’

After lunch, Luca took Dennis and Stephanie down to the folly while Coco and Juno drew pictures in the shade with their grandmother. He explained the history of the
palazzo
and the mystery intruder as they walked through the garden. ‘I think I have an idea who it might be, but I’m keeping quiet until I’m sure.’

‘So, what are you going to do?’ asked Stephanie.

‘I’m not sure but I think I need to set a trap.’

‘A rat trap to catch the rat,’ said Dennis. ‘In which case you require a large piece of cheese.’

‘Precisely.’ Luca unlocked the door, disappointed to see that the bed was as smooth as his mother had left it the day before. ‘No one’s been sleeping in
my
bed,’ he said in a deep, bear-like voice.

‘Oh my goodness!’ exclaimed Stephanie. ‘This is the most exquisite place I have ever seen.’ She wandered around marvelling at all the details. ‘It’s like a little love-nest. I can see why someone wants to come and sleep in here. It’s enchanting!’

‘The
Marchese
was a murderer,’ said Dennis.

‘But he murdered for love,’ said Stephanie, running her hand over the smooth marble replica of Donatello’s David. ‘Imagine, the woman you love and believe to be an innocent, country girl is having an affair with a dangerous
mafia
boss. It’s so romantic.’

‘Why didn’t he just kill the
mafia
boss?’

‘
You always hurt the one you love
,’ sang Luca. ‘
The one you shouldn’t hurt at all
.’ He sounded just like the professor.

‘Well, I don’t blame the woman who comes in here,’ said Stephanie. ‘Only it’s a little sad to lie here on her own.’

‘A little sad,’ Luca repeated slowly, scratching his chin. ‘You’re right. The woman who lies here is desperately sad. She comes here to feel close to someone.’ He was struck by an idea. ‘Or because she’s mourning someone.’

His heart began to race.

 

Romina was so alarmed at the thought of an intruder stealing into her folly that she eventually decided to report the break-in to the police. She found the police station on the square, a shabby building with three steps leading up to doors made of sturdy wood. Inside, the air was stale with tobacco and sweat. She crossed the room to the reception desk, littered with papers and magazines, and waited for someone to help her. The office itself was empty, but a couple of
carabinieri
loitered around the entrance, discussing mothers-in-law with loud guffaws, dropping ash on to the floor.