Marrying the Enemy (18 page)

‘He and Melinda had plans to
start a new life together in Australia. It made sense for him to sell the
London apartment. Technically I was an adult anyway, as I was eighteen. I
was going to university. But, yes, in effect he threw me out.’

So she had been left alone and
uncared for whilst
he
had been on the other side of the world, learning
all he could about improving the lot of the poorest people in that world in
a bid to expiate his guilt and find a new way of living his life that would
benefit his own people.

There was no point in telling her
any of that, though. It was plain how antagonistic she was towards him and
anything he might have to say.

‘And that was when you moved in
with your grandparents?’ he continued. It was, after all, easier to stick to
practicalities and known facts than to stray onto the dangerous unstable
territory of emotions.

Louise felt the tension gripping
her increase. Hadn’t he already done enough, damage, hurt and humiliated her
enough without dragging up the awfulness of the past?

Even now she could hardly bear to
think about how frightened she had been, or how abandoned and alone she had
felt. Her grandparents had saved her, though. With the love they had shown
her, they had rescued her.

That had been the first time in
her life she had truly understood the importance of giving a child love and
security, and all that family love could mean. That was when her whole life
had changed and she herself with it. That was when she had promised herself
that, whatever it took, one day she would repay her grandparents for their
love for her.

‘Yes.’

‘That must have been a very brave
gesture on their part, given…’

‘Given what I had done? Yes, it
was. There were plenty of people in their local community who were ready to
criticise and condemn them, just as they had already condemned me. I had
brought shame on my grandparents and by association could potentially bring
shame on their community. But then you know all about that, don’t you? You
know how shamefully and shockingly I behaved, and how I humiliated and
damaged not just myself but my grandparents and all those connected with
them. You know how my name became a byword for shame in our community and
how my grandparents suffered for that. Suffered for it but still stood by
me. And because of that you will also know why I am here now, enduring this
further humiliation by you.’

He wanted to say something—to
tell her how sorry he was, to remind her that he had tried to apologise—but
at the same time he knew that he had to stand strong. There was far more at
stake here than their own emotions. Whether they liked it or not they were
both part of a much greater pattern, their lives woven into the fabric of
the society into which they had both been born. That was something
neither of them could ignore or walk away from.

‘You want to carry out the
promise you made to your grandparents that their ashes will be buried
here?’

‘It was what they always wanted,
and of course it became more important to them after…after the shame I
brought them. Because burial of their ashes here was their only means of
returning to being fully accepted members of their community, being accepted
as having the right to be at rest here in the church in which they were
christened, confirmed and married. There is nothing I will not do to make
that happen—even if that means having to beg.’

Caesar hadn’t expected her
honesty. Hostility and antagonism towards him, yes, he had expected those,
but her honesty had somehow slipped under his guard. Or was it that part of
him—the modern, educated part, that was constantly striving to align the
desire to bring his people into the twenty-first century with being
custodian of their ancient customs—was looking on with modern-day
compassion? This was a young girl caught up in a system of values that had
punished her for modern-day behaviour that contravened the old
rules.

He could feel the weight of the
letter in his pocket. Like pressure on a raw wound, grinding into it
painfully sharp shards of broken glass.

She was beginning to lose her
self-control, Louise recognised. That mustn’t happen. She must accept that,
whilst it was only natural that she shouldn’t want to answer him, she must
resist the impulse to be defensive. What mattered was the debt of love she
owed her grandparents, and no one—especially not this arrogant, lordly
Sicilian, whose very presence in the same airspace as her was causing her
body to react with angry contempt—was going to compromise that. After all,
given what she had already been through, what was a little more humiliation?
The words
straw
,
broke
and
camel’s
back
slid dangerously into her mind, lodging there like
small yet effective barbs.

She had almost been out of her
mind with shock and shame and anger when her grandparents had taken her in,
incapable of
thinking
for herself, never mind looking after herself. She
had virtually crawled into bed, barely noticing the bedroom they had given
her in their pretty Notting Hill house—the house they had bought so proudly
when, after years of working for others, their restaurant had finally made
them financially independent. She had wanted only to hide away from
everyone. Including herself.

Her grandparents and their house
had been her sanctuary. They had given her what she had been denied by both
her mother and her father. They had taken her in and loved her when others
had rejected her, ashamed
of
her and
for
her.
Shame.
Such a terrible word to a proud Sicilian. The scar
that covered her shame throbbed angrily and painfully. She’d have done
anything rather than come here, but she owed her grandparents so
much.

In all the calculations she had
made about what might be asked of her, what penance she might have to pay in
order to remove the stain of dishonour from their family name and win
agreement for the burial of her grandparents’ ashes, she had never thought
to factor in the fact that she would be confronted by this man and forced to
answer to him for her sins. The truth was that she had thought he’d be as
antagonistic towards such a meeting as she was herself. She had obviously
underestimated his arrogance.

‘As you know, I alone am not
responsible for any decision made with regard to your request. The village
elders—’

‘Will take their cue from you. As
you must know perfectly well that I know that. You are the one who holds the
authority to grant my grandparents’ request. To deny them this, their chosen
final resting place, would be beyond unfair and cruel. To punish them
because—’

‘That is the way of our society.
The whole family suffers when one member of it falls from grace. You know
that.’

‘And you think that is
right
?’ she
demanded scornfully, unable to prevent herself from saying acidly, ‘Of
course you do.’

‘Here in this part of Sicily
people live their lives to rules and customs that were laid down centuries
ago. Of course I can see many faults in those customs and rules, and of
course I want to assist in changes that will be for the benefit of my
people, but those changes can only come about slowly if they are not to lead
to distrust and unhappiness between the generations.’

Louise knew that what he was
saying was true, even if she didn’t want to admit it. Even if something in
the trained, professional part of her was thinking eagerly of the
opportunities for good that must surely come from being in a position to put
in place changes that would ultimately benefit so many people and help them
to understand and reach out for the gifts of the future, whilst laying to
rest the ghosts of the past. Besides it was her grandparents’ wishes she
wanted to discuss with him.

‘My grandparents did a great deal
for their community. In the early days they sent money home here, for their
parents and their siblings. They went without to do that. They employed
people from the village who came to London. They housed them and looked
after them. They gave generously to the church and to charity. It is their
right to have all that they were and all that they did recognised and
respected.’

She was a passionate advocate for
her grandparents, and he couldn’t doubt the strength of her feelings, Caesar
acknowledged. A discreet bleep from his mobile phone warned him of an
impending appointment. He hadn’t expected this interview with her to take as
long as it had, and there were still things he needed to say—questions he
needed to ask.

‘I have to go. I have an
appointment. However, there are things we still need to discuss,’ he told
her. ‘I shall be in touch with you.’

He was turning to walk away,
having made it clear that he intended to keep her on edge and anxious. A
cruel act from a man who had cruelty and pride bred into his blood and his
bones. Perhaps she shouldn’t have expected anything else. And the relief she
felt because he was going? What did
that
say about her and her own
reserves of strength?

He was only a couple of metres
away from her when he turned. The sun slanting through the cypresses caught
against the sharp, hard bones of his face, throwing it into relief so that
he looked as if he could easily have traded places with one of his own
fierce warrior ancestors—that toxic mix of pre-Christian Roman and Moor was
stamped clearly on his features.

‘Your son,’ he said. ‘Have you
brought him to Sicily with you?’

ISBN: 9781459238138

Copyright © 2012 by Nicola Marsh

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