Page 33 of Daughter of Genoa
I slept for an hour with Tiberio cuddled up in my arms and woke feeling distinctly better. For a while I lay there holding him, listening to the familiar sounds of the house – Silvia bustling around in the kitchen, Bernardo’s gruff voice from the shop downstairs – and I thought over everything Silvia had said. Of course, she was quite right that I felt something for Teglio, something beyond comradeship or even friendship. It would be foolish to deny that now. But she was equally right that people formed attachments in wartime: the kind of attachments that might seem very strong in the moment, but that would never survive once the danger was past. If Teglio and I had anything, then surely it was that. We’d spent so little time together, and when we were together then we were usually working. Really, what else could it be?
The fragment of a dream filled my mind, desire flooding in with it: Teglio holding me close, my head resting on his shoulder. Cedarwood and tobacco and warm, clean skin. ‘No,’ I said out loud, and I tipped Tiberio out of my arms and sat up. ‘No, this won’t do.’ And I went to wash my face.
All through lunch, I was perfectly collected. Silvia seemed anxious – she fussed over me as she doled out the soup, giving me an extra share of bread and promising me an egg for breakfast, if not the next day then the day after, or the one after that. ‘One of Bernardo’s cousins is going to be visiting Genoa, and she’ll certainly bring some with her. Won’t she, Bernardo?’
‘If we’re lucky,’ Bernardo said, and took another slurp of his soup.
‘I’m sure she will,’ I said, wanting to reassure Silvia. I hadn’t seen her worried like this before, and it worried me in turn. ‘But even if she doesn’t, it’s quite all right. I’m all right,’ I said, casting a quick glance at Bernardo – but he was absorbed in his meal.
‘Are you sure?’ Silvia asked. ‘Because I know you weren’t feeling too well earlier. With a headache,’ she added for Bernardo’s benefit, although he was clearly deaf to nuance.
‘Really, I’m fine. It felt bad at the time, but it’s just a passing thing. As you said,’ I added. ‘I just needed to rest and get over the shock of last night. It all looked quite different when I woke up.’
‘Well, that’s good,’ Silvia said, although she didn’t look entirely convinced. ‘That’s very good news, if you’re feeling better. Do you feel like working this afternoon? Because I’m sure I can dig out something for you to do, if that would help. Or maybe you’d rather rest up, or do some reading—’
‘The poor girl’s going to get another headache if you keep on at her,’ Bernardo cut in.
‘I’ll read,’ I said quickly, before Silvia could respond. ‘I’d like to catch up on my reading.’
‘All right then,’ Silvia said. We finished our soup and I helped her to clear up, then drank a cup of tisane while Bernardo smoked his pipe before going down to reopen the shop. Once he’d gone, leaving a fug of tobacco behind him, Silvia turned to me.
‘I don’t think Mr X is coming for now. I wouldn’t have expected him anyway, not today, but—’
‘It’s really all right.’ I said it as brightly as I could, as if I hadn’t been listening for the doorbell myself. ‘I mean it. I’m sure he’ll come around at some point, and just like you said, I’ll know what to do then. Until then, I’m not going to fret about it.’
‘Good girl.’ Silvia gave me a quick hug. ‘Sensible. I knew you’d manage, if you would only be honest with yourself.’
‘That’s all I needed to do,’ I said. ‘Be honest with myself.’ And as I headed down the corridor to my room, I found myself almost believing it.
*
Once I was alone, I was tempted to lie down and give in: to weeping, to dreaming, to I don’t know what, but I didn’t. Instead I sat on my bed, propped up on the pillows, and picked upBrighton Rock. I decided that I would finish it today, rather than keep drawing it out as I had been. I’d just reached the death of Spicer when I heard noises: a single set of footsteps ascending the stairs. Still clutching the book, I slid from the bed and crept silently towards the door, performing frantic calculations in my mind. It was probably Silvia. It reallyhadto be Silvia, alone and at this time of day, but what if it wasn’t? Should I hide in the wardrobe, or fling the door open and make a run for the bathroom instead? I pressed my ear to the door and tried to listen past the thump of my own heartbeat.
‘Oh, damn it,’ came a low voice from the other side. Teglio. I dropped the book. ‘Marta?’ he called softly. ‘I can’t find you. Where are you?’
I opened the door and there he was, standing in the corridor, looking lost. Looking for me. For a moment, all I could do was stand there and stare at him. And then he smiled, a warm slow-dawning smile that illuminated everything.
‘There you are,’ he said, and held out his arms. There was no need to think. I went to him and nestled in, breathing his scent, marvelling that he was alive and here and with me. His heart was beating hard and fast – it sent mine racing.
‘You’re all right.’ It was a stupid thing to say, but I didn’t care. ‘You’re really all right.’
‘Yes, thankfully, though I had a hell of a scare. I think I scared a few people myself.’
‘Father Vittorio told me,’ I said. ‘He thought you were dead.’
‘So did I, for a moment,’ Teglio said with a wry laugh. ‘I’ve had some close calls in my time, but that—’
‘Don’t joke about it!’ The words burst out of me before I could stop them. My throat was tight, and I willed myself not to cry – not now, not again. ‘I’m sorry,’ I said. ‘I’m sorry, just… don’t. Please.’
He sighed. ‘You’re quite right,’ he said frankly, and held me tighter. ‘I oughtn’t to do it. It’s in awfully bad taste and, besides, it isn’t honest. I really did think I was finished. I’ve been in plenty of scrapes, but I’ve never experienced a thing like that before – and I hope I never will again, because it was terrifying.’
‘That’s better,’ I gasped. The tears were flowing now of their own accord, rolling down my cheeks and soaking the lapel of his very nice jacket.
‘Oh, my darling.’ Teglio’s voice was unbearably tender. He stroked my back as I shivered in his arms, hiding my face in his shoulder. ‘I’m sorry. I didn’t meant to upset you, dearest Anna.’
That shocked me back to myself. I blinked up at him and he looked steadily back, those dark eyes fixed on mine. ‘You called me Anna,’ I said.
He looked as surprised as I was. ‘Ah. Yes, I suppose I did. Is that… is that all right?’
