The Italian's New-Year Marriage Wish (15 page)

‘
You're
funny. You make me laugh. You always did.' Realising that paying him compliments wasn't going to help create distance between them, she turned away quickly and settled herself at the table by the fire. ‘Nice fire, Tony.'

‘Are you two eating? Specials are up on the board.'

Amy stared at the scrawl on the black board, wondering if she dared admit she wasn't hungry. There was something about being in love with Marco that just drove her appetite away.

‘I'll have the goat's cheese salad,' she muttered, and Marco frowned.

‘She'll have lamb hotpot. And I will, too.' He sat down opposite her and Amy gaped at him.

‘I don't want lamb hotpot!'

‘Amy.' His voice was patient. ‘You look as though you've eaten nothing for the past two years. This morning you missed breakfast. The sandwich that Kate gave you at lunchtime came back uneaten. You are eating less than that baby we referred to the hospital. Tonight you're having lamb hotpot and you're eating it, even if I have to fork it into your mouth myself.'

‘But I'm not—'

‘Not hungry?' He finished the sentence for her and gave a nod of understanding. ‘So—something is the matter? You are off your food because you are so in love with me you can't see straight, no?'

‘Don't start, Marco. I don't love you. And you don't love me. Not enough.'

He studied her face in silence. ‘All right. Because I need you to recover your appetite, we'll play a different game for the time being.' He leaned back, his dark eyes glittering in the light of the fire. ‘I tell you one thing you don't know about me and you tell me one thing I don't know about you.'

‘I don't like lamb hotpot. There.' She smiled innocently. ‘That's my one thing. Now it's your turn.'

‘I don't like really skinny women?'

She laughed. ‘You should do an article for the local paper. It would help soothe all those poor women sobbing over the extra pounds they gained over Christmas.'

‘Only women think that thin is attractive. All men prefer curves.'

Tony delivered the hotpot to the table and Amy sighed as she picked up her fork and looked at it without enthusiasm. ‘Why is it that you always get your own way, Marco?'

‘Because I'm always right?' His expression grew serious. ‘I didn't get my own way when you left, Amy. That wasn't what I wanted.'

She stilled, the fork balanced in her fingers, her heart in her throat. ‘I thought we weren't going to talk about this now.'

‘You made the decision for both of us, just as I did with the hotpot.' His eyes challenged her. ‘You didn't like it when I chose your food.'

‘That's not the same thing at all.'

‘You're right, it isn't. To select someone's meal for them…' he waved a hand dismissively ‘…that is nothing, I agree. But to choose someone's whole future—now, that's entirely different,
amore
.'

‘That's not fair, Marco. A relationship can't work if one of the people involved doesn't want it to work. And I didn't—it wasn't what I wanted.'

‘You're lying. You wanted it but you were afraid.' He leaned forward. ‘My beautiful, cowardly Amy. You were afraid that infertility would wreck our marriage. So you wrecked it anyway. That is woman logic.'

‘Woman logic?'

‘Sì.'
He dug into the hot pot. ‘A man would not wreck something just in case.'

She inhaled deeply. ‘It wasn't “just in case.”'

‘Eat.'

‘But—'

‘Eat, Amy, or I will have to force-feed you.'

She sighed and stabbed a small amount of food with her fork.

Marco sighed. ‘Now put it in your mouth—yes, like that. Good. And now another mouthful. These tests you had done—I want to know what they told you.'

Amy stopped chewing and put down her fork. ‘I had the usual done. The laparoscopy—'

‘You had a laparoscopy?' He interrupted her, his tone rough. ‘When? How? Where was I?'

‘Busy. Working.' She shrugged. ‘I don't know.'

The breath hissed through his teeth. ‘All right—carry on. You had a laparoscopy. And then?'

‘I had mild endometriosis. Nothing that needed treating. Just enough to have completely blocked my Fallopian tubes.' Her hand shaking, Amy picked up her fork again.

‘So the laparoscopy suggested that your Fallopian tubes were not patent, is that right?'

‘That's right.'

‘Eat.'

Amy stared at the food on her fork. ‘I really don't think I—'

‘Eat.'

Aware that the pub was filling up and that a few people were glancing towards them, Amy dutifully took another mouthful of food. ‘I'm not hungry.'

‘Then you need to do more vigorous exercise,
amore
, increase that appetite of yours,' Marco purred softly, and her eyes flew to his.

‘No, we mustn't. We mustn't do that again,' she whispered softly, and he lifted an eyebrow.

‘And why not?'

‘Because it is just confusing things.'

‘I'm not confused.' He gave a slow, sexy smile and reached across the table and took her fork from her hand. ‘I know exactly what I want. And I know exactly what you want, too,
tesoro
.'

‘I want a divorce.' She heard his sigh and bit her lip. ‘Marco, I know that we have fun together and I know that the sex is good.' She glanced swiftly towards the crowd at the bar but no one was paying them any attention. ‘But our relationship can't carry on. It's over.'

The humour was gone from his eyes. ‘It isn't over. We met
and the chemistry was so powerful that for three days we didn't get out of bed. We made love almost continuously. Do you remember that,
amore
?'

Of course she remembered that.
‘Perhaps that was the problem. We let the sex cloud our judgement. Sharing a bed is very different from sharing a life.'

‘So you're still pretending that there is no emotional connection between us and never was?'

Trying to ignore the faint sarcasm in his tone, she straightened her back and didn't look at him. ‘I like you, of course—'

‘Amy, a woman doesn't lose her appetite over a serious case of “like”. You were in love with me and you are still in love with me. Please, at least admit that.'

Her stomach churned. ‘Answer me one question, Marco.' She pushed her plate away from her. ‘How many times has a woman ended a relationship with you?'

‘Never.'

Finally she looked at him. ‘That's what I thought. So perhaps it's just very difficult for you to accept that I want to end the relationship.'

‘You're implying that this is all about my ego?' He let out a long breath and shook his head in blatant disbelief. ‘Sometimes, Amy, you are more trouble than the Maserati and that, as you say in English, is really saying something. Now, eat and forget our problems.'

Reluctantly Amy took a few more forkfuls of food. ‘It's quite good,' she conceded, ‘for hotpot.'

‘
Sì
. And you are going to eat all of it. You're a good cook. Who taught you? Your mother?'

‘No, my grandmother. She loved cooking, especially baking. Her cakes were amazing. She was quite a homely, domestic person. My mother wasn't.' Discovering that she was
hungrier than she'd thought, Amy slowly ate her way through the bowl of food.

‘Why did you stay with her on your own? Did your mother never join you?'

‘She was always working and she needed somewhere for me to go during the holidays. And, anyway, they didn't get on. They had a difference of opinion.'

‘About what?'

‘About me. My mother never really wanted children.' Talking about herself felt uncomfortable and with a flash of panic she swiftly she changed the subject. ‘How's Michelle Watson? Is she home from hospital?'

‘Yes, and they have changed her asthma medication.' He gave a twisted smile. ‘Poor Carol worries so much about her. I'm planning to call and see her tomorrow.'

‘It's Sunday.'

‘Sunday is the only day I have time to fit in that sort of visit. I need to check on her. She needs the support. And I also want to check on Lizzie.'

‘They certainly didn't seem like a perfectly harmonious family.' Amy glanced around to check that no one was listening to them and then lowered her voice. ‘I wondered whether Lizzie might be suffering from more than teenage tantrums.'

‘Me, too. But it wasn't right to tackle the subject when the focus was on her sister.'

‘Half-sister.'

‘You think that might be the root of the problem?'

‘I don't know. I suppose I'd start there.'

He nodded agreement. ‘I will find a way of spending time with her tomorrow.'

Amy felt a warm rush of pride. ‘You're a good doctor, Marco Avanti,' she said softly. ‘You care about the children so much, I know.'

‘And with that comment you have brought us back to our own problems. You are imagining that my life would be empty without my own children and that I'd there fore be better with a different woman.' He finished his food and put down his fork. ‘Despite the fact you are an intelligent woman, you are putting two and two together and coming up with the wrong answer.'

She knew it wasn't the wrong answer.

She knew that from personal experience just how childlessness could affect a marriage, but she wasn't ready to share that with him.

She'd never shared it with anyone. ‘Do you miss paediatrics?'

‘Sometimes. But I see a great number of the children in the practice and it is nice to have that long-term relationship so…' he shrugged ‘…in many ways I am very happy as a family doctor.'

‘You've done a good job with the practice, you and Nick. It must have been awful after Annabel died.' She bit her lip. ‘I—I didn't know or I would have written sooner.'

‘He managed. I managed.' Marco shrugged again. ‘The surgery carried on.'

‘Kate's such a good practice manager.'

‘Yes.' Marco finished his drink. ‘Although I'm not sure how long she'll stay.'

‘Really? She's thinking of leaving? Why?'

‘I don't know that she's thinking of leaving. It is just a suspicion and I might be wrong. I just sense that things aren't altogether good for her at the moment.'

‘Well, being a single mother must be hard,' Amy said quietly, and Marco nodded, his eyes on hers.

‘And losing someone you love is even harder. All the more reason not to throw it away when you find it. Let's go home,
amore
. It is more comfortable to argue at home.'

But they didn't argue.

They made love and then talked long into the night. And Marco didn't mention loving or leaving. He just seduced and possessed her until she was no longer capable of rational thought.

Until she'd for got ten why it was that she had to leave.

O
N
M
ONDAY
Amy worked her way through a steady flow of patients, but couldn't stop thinking about the visit she and Marco had made to see little Michelle the day before. There had been no sign of Lizzie and Carol had told them in an embarrassed voice that the teenager had come in drunk the night before and was sleeping it off. So Marco had merely checked on Michelle and reassured Carol, but Amy knew that he was still determined to spend some time with Lizzie.

‘Amy?' The door opened and Nick walked into her consulting room. ‘I've been thinking about the conversation we had on Friday afternoon. I think you need to tell Marco the truth.'

Still wondering about Lizzie, Amy pulled her mind back to the present. ‘I've told him.'

‘Ah.' He looked at her expectantly. ‘And?'

‘And nothing. It doesn't change anything just because he knows. Our marriage is still over.' She almost laughed as she listened to herself and recalled the passion of the weekend. For a marriage that was over, the relationship was in tensely passionate.

And she was making trouble for herself, she knew she was. The web was tightening.

Nick looked startled. ‘That's what Marco wants?'

‘Well, no, not exactly.' Amy fiddled with her pen, ‘He
doesn't think he wants it, but I know it's the best thing for both of us.'

‘You're deciding for both of you again? On what basis?'

On the basis of her past.
On the basis that she had first hand experience in this area.

Dark memories oozed into her brain and she pushed them away resolutely. ‘Yes,' she croaked, ‘I am deciding for both of us. Once Kate finds a locum, I'll be off.'

‘Does Marco know you still feel like this?'

‘I keep telling him. He doesn't seem to be listening.'

Nick grimaced. ‘That sounds like Marco. He has a way of ploughing through obstacles that get in the way of what he wants. He did it when we were setting up this place. You might find he changes your mind yet.'

‘That isn't going to happen.'
She couldn't let it happen.
‘In the meantime, I'll do the job you're paying me to do.'

Nick stood for a moment. ‘This must be very hard for you, Amy. If you need a shoulder…' He gave a wry smile and raked a hand through his hair. ‘I'm not sure that relationship counselling is my forte, but—'

‘I'm fine, Nick,' she said quietly, ‘but thank you. I'll manage on my own.'

The way she'd always managed. It was what she did. The way she lived her life.

 

The whole of Penhally came to life on New Year's Eve.

Despite another small flurry of snow and the drop in temperature, the shops were crowded as people rushed around, preparing for the celebrations. The off licence did a steady trade as people bought bottles of champagne and then picked their way home along the snowy pavements, bottles clanking in plastic bags, their breath clouding the freezing air.

The surgery was also busy and it was almost the end of the day before Amy managed to find time to nip to the staff room for a cup of tea.

‘You, too?' Kate followed her into the staff room and filled the kettle. ‘If I don't have a cup of tea this minute, my throat is going to collapse in protest. The pavements are icy and we've had several people in after falls, but at least the wind has dropped, which is good news. The firework display should be able to go ahead. They've brought it forward to six o'clock so that the children can enjoy it. Everyone will have time to go home and get changed before the party at the Penhally Arms. What are you wearing?'

Amy hesitated. ‘I'm not going.'

Kate gaped at her. ‘Not going? Amy, you
have
to go. It's
the
event of the year. Well, maybe not quite the year, but it's certainly the event of the winter.' She gave a rueful smile. ‘Not that that's saying much around here. We're a bit short of entertainment on the long, dark nights, as you well know.'

‘I can't go, Kate.' Amy took two mugs from the cupboard and Kate dropped a tea bag in each. ‘It would just be too awkward.'

‘Why? What's awkward about it?' Kate poured water into the mugs. ‘You're working here, aren't you? You're living with Marco. Everyone knows you're together—'

‘We're not together. Not in the way you mean.'

‘Oh. I hoped…' Kate finished making the tea and took it with her to the nearest chair. ‘Well, anyway, it's just a party, Amy. I don't understand the problem. Do you have a dress?'

‘No.' Amy thought about the contents of the wardrobe.
The wardrobe she'd abandoned along with that whole part of her life.
‘Well, yes, I suppose I do have a dress, but it isn't really suitable. I mean, it isn't me any more.'

Kate sipped her tea. ‘Was it you once upon a time?'

Without thinking she answered. ‘Oh, yes. It was Marco's favourite. Whenever I wore it we never actually managed to—' She broke off, suddenly embarrassed by how much she'd revealed, but Kate simply chuckled.

‘You never actually managed to leave the house in it? If it was that good, you should definitely wear it to the party tonight. In fact, I insist on it. If you don't turn up wearing it I'm going to drive you home myself and force you to change.'

Amy sighed and shook her head. ‘I don't think the dress sends out the right message.'

‘What does that matter?' Kate's tone was dry. ‘Since when did men take any notice of the messages we give them, anyway? Especially men like Marco. Whatever the dress is saying, Marco will hear what he wants to hear, take it from me. He's that kind of guy.'

Amy's stomach lurched alarmingly and she wondered fleetingly just how well Kate knew Marco.
Kate was an attractive woman.

And then she pushed the thought away. Kate and Marco had been colleagues for two years. It was natural that they'd know each other quite well.

And she had no right to be possessive. She was letting him go. ‘I honestly don't think a party is the right way to spend an evening.'

‘Are things that bad?' Kate's voice was gentle. ‘I was really hoping that the two of you might have patched up your marriage.'

‘We haven't.'

‘I'm sorry. And surprised. You're so good together and you've been laughing and you make a great team. I thought you were getting on well.'

‘We
are
getting on well.' Amy thought of their passionate lovemaking and blushed. ‘But we haven't patched up our marriage.'

Kate studied her. ‘Why not? You're so in love with him, anyone can see that. And he's in love with you!'

Amy frowned. ‘Nick said the same thing—'

Kate tensed slightly, her eyes suddenly wary. ‘Did he?' Her tone was suddenly cool. ‘You've discussed this with Nick?'

‘He's surprisingly intuitive, don't you think?'

‘Sometimes. With patients.' Kate stood up so suddenly that her coffee sloshed over the table. ‘Oh, now look what I've done.' She walked across to the sink and picked up a cloth and Amy watched, mystified by the sudden tension in the air. Everything had been fine until she'd mentioned the senior partner's name.

‘Has something happened between you and Nick?'
Had they had a row?
Or was it something more than that?

‘Nothing. You know what this place is like. We're in each other's pockets all the time.' She wiped the table. ‘So, if Marco
was
in love with you, would you stay?'

‘No. I'd be leaving even if he was in love with me.' Amy paused. ‘I can't have children. That's why I left and it's why I'll be leaving again. I can't give Marco the family he needs.' Swiftly, removing as much of the emotion as possible, she told Kate the facts and the older woman sank back onto the chair, her expression sympathetic.

‘Oh, Amy, I'm so sorry. Why didn't you tell me any of this before? You must have gone through so much and all on your own!'

‘I couldn't talk to anyone about it,' Amy murmured. ‘I—I'm not really used to talking about problems and this, well, this was just too big.'

‘But there are so many options these days and even if none of them worked, there's always adoption.'

Amy tightened her grip on her mug.

Why did people always say that?

Why did they throw it in like some sort of consolation prize with no emotional value?

‘That wouldn't be a solution. It's hard to understand, I know.' She rose to her feet quickly. ‘I'd better get back. Surgery was very busy. I have some notes to tie up and some referral letters to write.'

‘If I've upset you, I'm sorry.' Kate's voice was soft. ‘I
probably understand more than you think, Amy. Not about the infertility, no. I don't pretend to know what that must be like. But I know all about finding the man you truly love and then not being able to be with him. Life has a warped sense of humour. Whoever said that it was better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all, had obviously never loved. Either that or he was on drugs when he wrote that. Love is agony.'

Amy stood for a moment, unsure what to say. Was Kate referring to the tragic loss of her husband years earlier? Or something else entirely?

She opened her mouth to ask a probing question but then the door opened and Alison walked in.

‘Is that kettle hot? My tongue is sticking to the roof of my mouth.'

Amy looked at Kate for a moment longer and the practice manager gave a tired smile.

‘Go and finish your paperwork, Amy, or I'll be forced to nag you.'

In other words, this wasn't the right time for a deep conversation. Knowing that Kate was right, Amy smiled at Alison.

‘Kettle is hot.'

 

‘Aren't you getting ready to go out? The party started half an hour ago.' Marco paused in the doorway, looking at Amy who was curled up on the sofa with a book that she wasn't reading.

She couldn't concentrate on anything. When she wasn't working, all she did was think about Marco. ‘You go.'

‘We're both going.' He reached out a hand and pulled her to her feet.

‘I'm tired, Marco.'

He gave a slow smile and stroked a hand over her cheek. ‘Too much sex perhaps. Tonight,
tesoro
, I will let you sleep. I promise.'

She blushed. ‘Marco, I just don't want to go to the Penhally Arms! Everyone will be there.'

‘Sì.'
He pulled her towards the stairs. ‘That is why we are going. We're part of this community.'

‘You are. I'm not.'

He jerked her against him. ‘You're my wife,' he breathed, his eyes holding hers. ‘Remember that.'

‘Marco—' She broke off and sighed. This wasn't the time to start that argument again. ‘All right, I'll come to the party if it means so much to you.'

‘Good.' He lowered his head and delivered a lingering kiss to her mouth. ‘We leave in ten minutes.'

Amy waited for him to walk into the shower and then opened the wardrobe and took out the dress. It was scarlet, daring, and didn't match her mood at all.

If she were dressing for her mood then it would have been black, she thought gloomily, looking in the wardrobe to see what else there was.

But there was nothing.

Only the vivid red dress.

With a little shrug she slipped it on, wondering if it would even still fit.

‘Molto belissima,'
Marco breathed from behind her, sliding his hands slowly over her hips and then drawing her zip upwards in a smooth movement. ‘I always
loved
you in this dress.'

‘It isn't— I don't—'

‘It is and you should.' He turned her to face him. ‘Tonight let's just go out and have a good time. Forget everything. No mention of problems. Agreed?'

She hesitated and then nodded. It sounded good to her. She was exhausted. ‘All right.'

 

The Penhally Arms was decorated with clusters of balloons and rows of twinkling lights and the dining room had been
cleared to accommodate a dance floor. Although it was still relatively early, the place was already crowded.

‘So now you will see all my moves and be unable to resist me.' Smiling wickedly, Marco hauled her straight onto the dance floor and spun her round.

‘What are you doing?' Half laughing, half embarrassed, she moved closer to him and he shrugged.

‘Dancing. Your dress has a very sexy split at the side. When I spin you round I get a better view of your legs.'

‘Marco, that's dreadful!'

‘Not from where I'm standing.' He pulled her against him and ran a possessive hand over the curve of her bottom, leaving everyone in no doubt that their marriage was alive and well.

‘People are watching everything you do.'

‘Let them watch. The only way to survive in a small community is not to fight it. Don't be so English.' He smiled down at her, his eyes glittering dark and dangerous in the dim light. ‘Relax and let go. All the people here wish us well.'

And, indeed, everyone seemed happy and contented, mingling, drinking and eating. Amy joined Marco as he weaved his way through them, exchanging a few words of greeting here and there, stopping to have a longer conversation with some people.

And then she saw Kate standing in the doorway, a look of such utter yearning on her face that Amy stopped dead. Puzzled, she followed the direction of Kate's gaze and gave a soft gasp of enlightenment.

Marco turned from his argument about Italian wines. ‘What?'

‘I just— I didn't…' She drew him to one side, her voice soft. ‘Kate. Did you see the way she looked at Nick?'

‘No, but I can imagine.'

Amy looked up at him. ‘I think she's in love with him.'