One Hot Summer (4 page)

This was the life
!
And all for free.

The warm sensuous throbbing of a familiar male voice, the cool comfortable room, the sense of complete detachment from the real world outside, made Jan realise how deeply tired she was. Since setting out for Rome she had walked every day quite as far as she ever walked in the wards, and mostly over cobbled roads. The heat and incessant noise outside, the dark museums and churches packed with so many treasures that the mind reeled—it had all drained her energy. Providence, no less, had made that impudent urchin snatch her bag. Ten days of this, and she’d go back to the hospital full of vitality and rarin’ to go.

She fell asleep, and woke to find the Signora Cellini looking down at her.

‘
Sleeping, my love? How lovely you looked—like a child. It’s almost time for dinner.’

Jan scrambled up.
‘
Thank you,
signora.
I’ve had a difficult day, one way and another, so I just dropped off. Were you needing me?’

The delicate hand cupped her chin for a moment.
‘
Bianca dear, I always need you.’

Firmly, Jan said,
‘
I am not your daughter,
signora.
I’m Jan—a visitor.’

Troubled, Bianca’s mother said uncertainly,
‘
Oh, I
thought—aren’t you Bianca?’

‘
You know I’m not. You’re talking English. You don’t speak to your daughter in English, do you?’

‘
I’m sorry, I made a mistake. Yes, yes, I see now you are someone else. Jan?’

‘Jan Lynton. Bianca is visiting her Aunt Giulia-Maria.’

‘
So she is,’ discovered Signora Cellini.
‘
Never mind. You and I will enjoy ourselves. You shall improve my English and I will improve your Italian. Now come, let us eat. Do you know my son is home? He brought his wife. He lives in Rome nowadays, but today he is home. Take my hand.’

They found Marco in a small dining-room whose floor was tiled with yellow and white tiles. Here tall windows opened on to a terrace facing the sea, and long white filmy curtains moved in the almost imperceptible current of air, creating an atmosphere of fresh coolness.

He bowed over her hand, touched it with his lips. ‘Ah—a young goddess! May I congratulate you,
signorina.
You look perfect, dressed as you are, a hundred times more like Bianca. That is very delightful.’

‘
In her clothes, I should look like her. They fit perfectly, so you were right about size. One thing I must ask you,
signore
—’ she glanced at his mother and dropped her voice.
‘
Please tell the servants you invited me to wear your sister’s clothes. That little maid—’

‘
Francesca?’

‘
She was furious. N
ot
th
at
she said anything, but her face spoke volumes. She’ll tell the others I’ve been helping myself, and they will hate me for it.’

‘I’
m sorry. Trust me, I’ll explain. I shall say you were the victim of a thief.’

‘
You don’t have to do this for me, you know. I have
clothes of my own.’

He said gravely,
‘
But you have to do it for me. You promised.’

After dinner they sat on the terrace, a family threesome, relaxed, not talking much. But when the telephone rang, Marco jumped as if he had been tensed and waiting. He came back like a man who has had ill news.

‘Who was it
,
my son? Was it Bianca? She’s on holiday just now, in Florence.’

You remember better than you pretend, Jan thought. How much is genuine, how much an act for Marco’s benefit? Perhaps even for your own.

‘
Just a business call, Mother. Jan, how would you like to play to us?’

She shrugged.
‘
I’m not good enough for a public performance.’

‘
We’re not critics. Shall I fetch the guitar?’

Bianca’s was a beautiful instrument. Jan enjoyed
using it, and soon forgot her self-consciousness, even sang a little, under her breath, till memories of Michael got between her and the music and choked her into silence.

‘
Thank you,’ said the Signora, rising.
‘
I shall go to bed now. My husband likes to retire early these days. He’s not well, not really well. Goodnight, my son. Goodnight, Jan.’

Marco escorted his mother to her room. When he returned, he asked what Jan thought of her.

‘
She’s lovely—a great lady of the old time. I’ve never met one before, and I’m impressed. But, Marco, you really ought to try to do something about her memory. She’s not so confused as she makes out. When she was pretending I was Bianca, she was speaking all the time in English. She knew who I was, you see.’

‘
Are you criticising my mother? Saying she tells
l
ies?’

‘
Goodness, no, nothing like that.’

‘
It sounded like that.’

‘
All I’m saying is, she’s in trouble and she could be cured. Well, improved anyway. I don’t think you do her a kindness, letting her indulge in this play-acting. Why don’t you tell her your father is dead?’

‘
Why awaken her to a cruel world and a bitter grief?’

‘
Because this is the real world, and she’s living in it. You’re treating her as if she were a ghost.’

‘
So now I am coming under your hammer? You are no more than a student nurse,
you told me? Are you setting yourself up against the opinions of the greatest doctors in Europe?’

Jan crimsoned.
‘
I’m sorry if I seemed cheeky. Did you have a woman doctor?’

‘No. Why?
’

She shrugged.
‘
A truly beautiful, feminine woman can always fool
a man, rarely a woman. I think you ought to be sure how much of her mental condition is real, how much is pretence on her part; and how much you yourself are responsible for.’

‘I?’
His face was dark with anger.

‘Yes, you. You keep things from her—like not letting her remember her husband died. Every day you go along with her fantasy, you make it more real for her. But what if you died? Got drowned, as he did? It happens. What would become of her then? You have no right to keep a human being as a sort of Sleeping Beauty.’

‘
No
right
? I am the master of this household. I have every right. You as my guest have no right—if I may respectfully remind you—to call my treatment of my mother into question.’

‘
No, I haven’t,’ she admitted quietly.
‘
And I apologise. But I may respectfully remind you that you did
ask me what I thought. Why ask questions, if you don’t want any answers?’

Sky and sea were violet now, after the sunset. He moved abruptly to the edge of the balcony and stared down. Presently he said in a normal voice,

‘
Come here, Jan.’ She went to him. He pointed to a headland far below, a dark diamond shape jutting out into the sea.
‘
See that light? It’s a castle. You’ll see it by daylight plainly enough. It has been made habitable, and is occupied by a very old friend of our family. He is Bianca’s godfather and fond of her. When he sees her up here, he likes to wave. If he does so, it would be kind of you to wave back.’

‘
Another fantasy? You want to make him believe I’m Bianca?’

He turned to look at her. When he spoke, there was no rancour in his tone.
‘
Is that wrong? He is old and lonely. It’s a game they play, and if it gives him pleasure, surely you can co-operate.’

‘
It’s a silly game. Suppose Bianca writes to him, sends him a postcard, while she’s away?’

‘
She is not likely to.’

‘
Why?’

‘
Because I say so. Don’t ask so many questions. If you don’t want to make the old man happy for a few moments each day, then don’t. Let him feel lonely. He’s used to it.’

‘
I’ll do it. If, he’s so lonely, why not pop down for a chat?’

‘
It’s ten miles by the road, and while I’m at the Villa I need to be near the telephone. I’m expecting an urgent call—business.’

‘Goodness! Is that what being a tycoon means? You can’t leave the house at all?’

‘
Not till I’ve had this call. So you’ll wave?’

She relented. Why be critical? These people weren’t her family, nor her patients. She had no responsibility for them, beyond the normal courtesies of a guest. Then at least she should accept her position as guest, and fall in with her host’s wishes.

‘
I’ll wave. Trust me.’

He touched her elbow lightly.
‘
Good girl! Thank you. Now I’ll follow my mother and retire. I’ve been missing some sleep lately and it is beginning to tell. I breakfast at seven here on the terrace. Ring when you’re ready for yours. Goodnight, English Jan. Have a happy time and feel this is your home.’

For dinner, he had changed into a white suit which, even more than that which he had worn in Rome, showed off his broad shoulders and slim waist. One day soon, she thought, I’ll see him in a swim suit and he will look like a Greek god and that golden tan of his will be all-over. He will be perfectly muscled and swim like a fish. If he wasn’t so bad-tempered and touchy, he’d be perfect.

The night was too warm, too beautiful to leave. The moon rode high. The scents of the garden were heavier now; lilies, the vanilla scent of broom and the long white bracts of acacia blossom. Jan stretched out on the deep cushions of a long cane chair, and sighed contentedly. The nurses at the hostel would never believe a word of this.

You’re making it up, Jan! But go on! What was he like?

Dreamy, she’d tell them. Dark eyes, almost black. Dark hair, a strong face, a voice like dark brown velvet. And charming. He kissed my hand.

Someone would giggle,
I don’t believe you
!

True every word. And at night, when it was dark and warm, we’d swim in the pool among the scent of lilies. Jan smiled at her fancy. That wasn’t true, but it would be fun to swim in the dark. Why not?

When she
came back wearing her own turquoise halter-neck bikini, and trailing a huge pink and orange towel, she heard from somewhere in the house the shrill of a telephone. Marco’s business call? Or maybe Bianca calling her family. She froze a moment, but as the ringing stopped and no one seemed to stir from the house, she sat on the marble edge of the pool and slid gently in. The water was warm after the long hot day.

She swam the length of the pool. The disturbed water shone silver. Then she floated, resting on the water and staring at the great star-studded arch of sky. Her hair spread out like a fan.

Someone came running up the garden steps. Hearing the pad of feet, she pulled her own under her and glided to the side of the pool, hoping not to be noticed and keeping her head just below the rim. A terracotta jar of lilies would, she hoped, conceal her completely until the intruder had gone.

Lights were switched on. Marco, again wearing his town suit, hurried out and met the newcomer. It was the boy from the boat, Dino. They talked together in low voices.

‘
The boat, Dino. Quickly.’

That much Jan understood. And then
Roma.
Was he going to Rome tonight? She knew his car was garaged on the mainland, and he had refuelled before they left it. What had called him back so late? His business call? Was this one of the penalties of being an international tycoon; the price of being wealthy?

The two were talking fast now. She could not understand a word, so was in no danger of eavesdropping. But as Dino turned away, he hesitated and spoke again.

‘
E la signorina
?’

He had seen her! Jan gripped the marble edge of the pool, annoyed with herself for skulking under the lilies. How foolish she was going to look!

But Marco said something quickly to the boy, and
ran lightly back into the villa. Jan sighed with relief.

Dino nodded and went away. But as he went, he must have noticed the big towel lying, for he came back, folded it neatly, and carried it away, as if it were all in the day’s work to find discarded possessions strewn around the pool.

In the morning Jan chose a sun-suit in a multi-coloured Hawaiian print and scarlet sandals. She breakfasted alone on the terrace. Fresh orange juice, warm rolls with butter and cherry jam, and a great pot of coffee. It was served by Francesca, the plump maid, who smiled and seemed to accept that this guest wore the Signorina Bianca’s clothes. Presently Jan heard her talking to a man, and when the pair of them came into the garden she saw it was Dino. So he had brought the boat back? Had Marco come too?

Dino flashed his broad grin. Wearing his usual gear of faded blue jeans and a gold cross on a chain which flashed against his bare brown chest, he bowed as gracefully as a mediaeval page, and handed her a letter with a flourish.

It was from Marco.
‘I
have been called away on business,’ it read.
‘I
could not wait, as it is urgent. It is not possible to say how long I shall.be away, but
I
hope not too long. Do not let my mother worry, keep her amused if you can. Dino will take you anywhere you want to go, but it would not be wise to wander off on your own. You might get lost, and our cliffs are high and dangerous.’