Married Under The Italian Sun. Lucy Gordon
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he could keep her safe.
‘Are you all right?’ he asked after a while.
‘No,’ she said abruptly. ‘I think—I’m going to have hysterics. Sorry about that.’
‘Don’t be sorry,’ he said, almost impatiently. ‘Nothing wrong with hysterics. Have them if you like.’
After that nothing could have stopped her. Her gasps turned into whooping, her shaking became violent tremors, and tears poured helplessly down her face. It didn’t seem to faze Vittorio. He just tightened his arms, so that an already firm grip became one of steel.
There was nothing gentle or tender about this. It was less an embrace than an imprisonment, but that was what she needed to guard herself from the worst, until the world became steady again, the storm passed and she managed to say, ‘Damn, damn, damn! I thought I had more guts than that.’
He loosened his grip just enough to look at her face. His own was close enough for her to feel his breath fanning her lips.
‘Why?’ he asked mildly. ‘You were a hair’s breadth away from falling to your death. Has that ever happened before?’
‘No.’
‘Then why should you think you should cope?’
‘Well, we both know now that I can’t,’ she snapped, furious with herself and, obscurely, with him.
‘So what? Did someone pass a law saying that you had to be a superwoman? Or is that just what the rest of us are supposed to think?’
‘Will you shut up?’ she snapped.
He grinned. ‘That’s better. Come on. You’re ready to stand.’
She didn’t feel ready, but he seemed to know her better than she did herself, so she allowed him to help her to her feet.
‘Where’s your car?’ he asked.
‘I walked.’
‘Then it’ll have to be my car. It’s just over there.’
His car was small and shabby. Angel eased herself thankfully into the front passenger seat, closed her eyes, and didn’t open them again until they pulled up outside the villa.
‘The padrona needs a good, stiff drink,’ Vittorio told Berta, who bustled out.
‘We both do,’ Angel said, leading the way into the large room that opened onto the garden through tall windows.
Berta produced whisky and two glasses, and Vittorio poured for them both. Angel drank hers in one gulp.
‘Do you need another?’ he asked, holding out the bottle.
‘No, thanks. I don’t normally drink spirits at all, but this was different. Thank goodness you were there. How did that happen?’
‘You mean how dare I still be on your property after you ordered me off?’
‘Not exactly. After all, you saved my life. I owe you for that.’
‘You don’t owe me any favours. It wouldn’t have suited me at all for you to die. Everyone would have thought I’d murdered you.’
His brisk, common-sense manner was a relief. There would be no need for melodramatics along the lines of, My hero!
‘Surely not!’ Angel said ironically. ‘Why would anyone think you wanted to murder me? I know you hate the sight of me, but who knows about it—apart from everyone in the area?’
He grimaced. ‘All right, you’ve made your point.’
‘Then tell me, what were you doing there?’
‘I went to look at the cliff.’
‘You knew it was dangerous?’
‘Only since late last night. Rico called me and said he’d noticed that it was dangerous at that point. He didn’t know what to do.’
‘He could have told me.’
He gave her an ironic look.
‘The poor lad is scared stiff of you. He came to me because that’s what he’s always done. I said I’d check it today, and that’s why I was there. I was going to cordon it off, then come to inform you.’
‘Oh, you were going to let me know what was happening? But only after you’d checked it.’
Vittorio let out his breath in exasperation.
‘All right,’ he said, with exaggerated patience. ‘Just tell me what you’d have done. How would you deal with a crumbling cliff?’
The silence was jagged as they faced each other.
‘You want me to say I’d come to you, don’t you?’ she seethed.
‘I don’t care what you say, only what you do. I hope you’d have had enough common sense to call me, but I don’t count on it.’
‘You’ve got a nerve!’
‘It depends whether you love this place more than you resent me.’
She sighed. ‘You’ve got me there, haven’t you? After all, you love it more than you resent me, or I wouldn’t be alive now. I guess I have to respect that.’
‘Much against your will, of course.’
She spoke through gritted teeth. ‘Look, I’m trying.’
‘I know. It’s years since I enjoyed anything so much.’
‘All right, have your laugh. But please come and look after the estate before it goes to rack and ruin. That is—if you can bear to.’
‘I can bear to. I told you once before that taking care of the land is the only thing that matters. Next to that, nobody’s feelings count. I’ll do a good job for you, and get your lemons in prime condition for the harvest, but I must have a free hand, and you have to take my advice.’
She opened her mouth to protest about this high-handed way of putting it, but then closed it again. He was right. She had no choice.
‘All right,’ she said.
‘My first piece of advice is to get the other gardeners back.’
‘No, it’s not fair to leave it all to Rico, is it?’ she agreed. ‘Plus, he helped to save my life.’
‘True. You should give him a bonus. There’s a heavy workload, not just for the lemons, but the rest of the garden. You sell that produce as well, at least you will sell it if it’s properly tended.’
‘Can I leave it to you to contact the other two gardeners?’
‘Certainly. And my second piece of advice is that you need some fertiliser delivered fast.’
‘Please order it. Is this a truce?’
‘I suppose it is.’
‘Don’t strain yourself,’ she said indignantly. ‘We can make it an armed truce if you prefer.’
‘That might work better.’
‘How much do I pay you?’
‘I’ll send you a formal memo.’ He added with a faint smile, ‘Under an emblem of crossed swords.’
‘Surely sheathed swords is more appropriate?’ Angel asked lightly.
Vittorio regarded her, his head on one side, his smile unreadable.
‘Let’s see how things work out before we sheath our swords.’
Angel slept badly that night. As soon as she closed her eyes, she was back hanging over the drop. Somehow she knew that this was a dream, but would struggle to save herself, feeling certain that she could now manage without him. But Vittorio was always there, hauling her back to safety.