Second Marriage

'Goodbye, Claire.'

She didn't say anything, just continued to stare at him in silence as Grace hugged her closer, and then he turned, striding past her without glancing her way again.

CHAPTER TEN

'I'm coming with you to the airport,' Grace insisted for the third time that morning, 'and I don't want to hear another word about it. The twins will be perfectly all right with Anna and Gina for a few hours, and it won't do them any harm to have the odd bottle now and again rather than me. You know that. Lorenzo will keep his eye on them too—you know how he is—and Donato thought he'd be home early this afternoon. So you see they'll have a whole host of admirers to dance atten­dance.'

'Are you sure?' Claire asked quietly. This would be the first time that Grace had left Romano and Claire since they had been born. At first Grace had been the original fussy mother, forever checking the infants when they slept and jumping at every little squeak and snuffle, but as the babies had grown and put on weight she had started to relax a little, becoming more confident both in the alarms fitted to the cots and also her children's health.

'Quite sure.' Grace smiled at her, knowing what she was thinking. 'I'm convinced at last they're here to stay, and part of that is due to you and all your straight talking and common sense. I…I couldn't have shared my fears with anyone other than you and Donato, Claire. I knew I had to work them through for myself but I needed to express them too.'

'I know,' Claire said softly.

'I just wish…'

'What?'

'That you hadn't got hurt in the process,' Grace said slowly. 'He's an idiot, Claire, a first-class idiot. I don't know whether to hit him or pity him for what he's miss­ing.'

Grace had said much the same yesterday, alternating between trying to find excuses for Romano's behaviour and bursts of righteous anger against her husband's best friend, and although Claire knew her friend meant well neither tack had helped the long, hot Sunday to pass any easier.

But now it was Monday morning, and her flight left Naples airport just after lunch. She had already said her goodbyes to Donato that morning, before he had left for his offices, and a somewhat tearful farewell to Lorenzo before he started his lessons with Attilio. She had kept her parting with the tutor brief and brisk, for his sake rather than hers, but nevertheless had breathed a long sigh of relief when it was over.

'Antonio has put your cases in the back of my car, so whenever you want to go I'm ready,' Grace said now, as they finished their third cup of coffee, having taken a long, leisurely breakfast that had continued long after the other members of the household had gone their sepa­rate ways.

'Right. I just want to say goodbye to Benito first— he'd never forgive me if I went without seeing him,' Claire said, perfectly seriously, and Grace nodded back, just as serious.

'Absolutely. He knows you're going, you know. He's been a real misery the last day or so.'

Benito was sitting on his perch on the patio of Lorenzo's sitting room, eyeing the door morosely as she walked through, his head tilted glumly and his exotic plumage shining in the clear white light of the sunny morning.

'Hello, old thing.' Claire walked across to him and stroked the silky feathers as she murmured softly, 'I don't want to go, you know, but I've no option. You do see that, don't you?'

'Benito—nice old bird,' the parrot intoned mourn­fully. 'Claire e Romano. Romano e Claire, eh?'

Did he really know? she asked herself silently. It seemed impossible and yet those bright round eyes were terribly understanding. 'I wish it was Romano and Claire, Benito,' she said softly. 'I really do. But I'm afraid you've got it wrong this time.'

'Wrong…wrong…' The melancholy tone was too much, and Claire felt a slight smile touch her mouth despite her misery. He was a comical old bird, she thought fondly, and she would miss him. She would miss everyone.

She looked past the parrot now to the gardens beyond, already shimmering in the heat of the June morning. The sky was a vivid sapphire-blue, devoid of the tiniest cloud, and the air was redolent with the smell of the crisply cut lawns that the gardeners had just finished working on. All was colour and warmth and light, the antithesis of what she was feeling inside.

'Ready?'

She hadn't heard Grace come up behind her but now she forced a bright smile as she turned away from both the view and her thoughts. 'Yes, quite ready.' She stroked Benito one last time and then followed Grace out of the room.

The airport was the same as airports everywhere—noisy, busy and possessed of a life of its own that went on regardless of the hundred and one little human tragedies being played out in the comings and goings within its ramparts.

Since leaving Casa Pontina, and during the drive into Naples, Claire felt as though she had gone into a vacuum, and that feeling continued as she checked in her luggage and was told the flight was slightly delayed.

'Grace, you go now—really.' She could tell that in spite of all Grace's brave protestations her friend was itching to get back to her offspring. 'You know how these delays drag on sometimes and I'm going to be quite happy sitting here. I've got a good book. I shan't be able to relax if I know I'm keeping you from leaving.'

'You're not,' Grace said stubbornly.

'Grace, I mean it—' She was going to say more but the sudden glassy look in her friend's eyes brought her head turning round. Romano was standing a few feet away, dark and still and magnificent in a black silk shirt that was unbuttoned at the neck and black jeans that hugged the lean, lithe body in a way that interfered with her breathing.

'Romano!' Grace recovered first, her usually warm soft voice sharp with outrage. 'What on earth are you doing here?'

'I would have thought that was perfectly obvious.' He smiled, but it was a warning, as the tone of his voice had been. 'I want to say goodbye to Claire.'