Gino's Arranged Bride. Lucy Gordon
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what was to come.
Now it was Laura who sat with her, while her husband kept in the background. His smile had gone, and his face bore a stunned look.
After that he didn’t appear in any more pictures.
Gino remembered Laura saying, ‘She adored him and he seemed to adore her—then he just upped and left.’
How could any man just switch off his love for a little girl? Unless his ‘love’ had been little more than vanity?
Gino tried to get into the mind of a man who could simply abandon a child like an unwanted puppy, at the very moment when she needed him most. But he couldn’t do it. All he could feel was helpless rage which he concealed behind a smile.
It was the child who turned the pages back to the last picture where the man could be seen.
‘That was Daddy,’ she said softly, touching the face.
‘Yes,’ Gino said, floundering for something to say. ‘He looks—he looks—quite a fellow.’
‘He taught me to swim. He said he’d teach me to draw one day, when I was older. Only he died.’
‘Died?’ Gino couldn’t keep the astonishment out of his voice.
‘Yes, he’s dead,’ Nikki said calmly. ‘My daddy’s dead.’
Gino drew a long breath, sensing that he was walking across eggshells.
‘He’d have been proud of that drawing you showed me,’ he said. ‘You’re very talented.’
She beamed. ‘Daddy was good at drawing. I want to be as good as Daddy.’
‘I’m sure you will be,’ he said lamely. It was the best he could manage while his mind was whirling. Nikki seemed satisfied.
But she had another bombshell for him. As she closed the album she whispered, ‘Don’t tell Mum what we talked about. She doesn’t know that I know, and I don’t want to worry her.’
He nodded, bereft of speech. He was aghast.
When Nikki had gone to bed he took a walk through the quiet streets. The last of the summer night was fading, and by the time he was ready to turn back it was completely dark.
Just ahead of him was a pub, with a sign proclaiming The Running Sheep, and he felt in need of a beer after this evening. Inside, it was a small, attractive place with a pleasant, old-fashioned atmosphere. The barman sold him a pint of bitter, and he went to sit at a table in the corner.
He was tired. What he’d heard tonight had disturbed him, but his walk had left him no clearer how to deal with it. It was pleasant to sit there, sipping and thinking about nothing very much.
He closed his eyes, and might have dozed off for a moment. When he opened them the barman had gone. In his place was a young woman with fair curly hair and a sweet smile. It took Gino a moment to realise that he was looking at Laura.
He was so used to regarding her as a landlady and Nikki’s mother that he’d unconsciously been perceiving her through those filters, and they had gotten in the way of the real woman. Now he realised that the dancer he had seen in the photographs was still alive somewhere. It was like seeing her for the first time.
She was talking to a customer, almost seeming to flirt with him, shaking her head so that the curls danced about her face. It was a young face, much younger than Gino had realised, and charming, especially when she smiled.
It had a lot in common with the girl in the pictures, except that her blazing belief in life had gone for ever. This woman was more cautious, hurt and vulnerable, but also more interesting than before.
The customer was elderly, and clearly delighted by the attention. He paid for his drink and would have lingered if the barman hadn’t returned, looking at his watch.
‘Last orders, ladies and gentlemen,’ he announced.
The company was thin tonight, and she was soon finished. Gino waved to catch her attention, and they slipped out into the street together.
‘So this is where you sneak away in the evenings,’ he said, grinning. ‘No wonder you don’t want to be at home when you can be surrounded by suitors here.’
‘Oh, stop that. Sam’s a dear old boy and nobody’s flirted with him for years. It’s part of the job, and mostly innocent.’
‘Mostly?’ he asked, glancing sideways.
‘Nothing I can’t handle. I’ve got a mean left hook. Want me to demonstrate?’
‘I’ll take your word for it,’ he said hastily. ‘Let’s go home.’
It was pleasant walking home under the stars, and Gino was reluctant to spoil their peace, but he had no choice.
‘There’s something you need to know,’ he said heavily. ‘Nikki told me tonight that her father is dead.’
Laura stopped and faced him, horrified.
‘She said what?’
‘She was showing me some family pictures, and when he disappeared from them she said, “My daddy’s dead”.’
‘Oh, no,’ she breathed. ‘He didn’t die. He walked out.’
‘Do you ever hear from him?’
‘Not since the divorce. He doesn’t stay in touch.’
‘Christmas? Birthdays?’
‘Not a word, not a card. I suppose it’s easier for her to think of him as dead than neglectful.’
‘Any chance she actually believes it?’
‘No, if he was dead, I’d have told her. She must know that.’
‘So it’s her way of comforting herself.’ Gino sighed. ‘I’m not supposed to have told you this. She said you didn’t know that she knew, and she didn’t want to worry you.’
‘Oh, God, she’s so sweet and generous.’
‘Yes, she is, but I’ve betrayed her confidence. I had to. I couldn’t have kept a thing like that to myself—’
‘Of course you did the right thing. But I’ve been so stupid. Why didn’t I see it coming? How could I have left her exposed to this?’
‘Hey, hey, don’t blame yourself,’ he said urgently. ‘You didn’t expose her to this. He did.’
‘But I should have thought. Oh, heavens!’
Her voice was husky with tears and she buried her face in her hands. Gino put his arms about her, holding her tightly while she wept.
‘It isn’t your fault,’ he said again. ‘You’re her mother, but you can only do so much. There are things you can’t make right for her, however hard you try. You can see them coming, but you can’t get out of the way.’
‘But I could help her through them. I’ve got to get home quickly, and talk to her.’
‘No, don’t.’ In his agitation he took her arms and drew her around to face him. ‘Stop and think. What are you going to tell her, that I betrayed her confidence?’
‘Confidence? She’s an eight-year-old child—’
‘Even a child likes to be treated with respect. Right now, she feels she can talk to me.’
‘But why not me?’
‘Because you’re her mother. I’m not involved so it’s easier for her to talk to me. As long as she trusts me, maybe I can be of some use to her, and to you. Laura please, don’t do anything to make her stop trusting me.’
He felt some of the tension go out of her, and she sighed, nodding.
‘You’re right,’ she said in despair. ‘I