, Max.’
A faster, more upbeat song was playing now, and she and Max were motionless in the middle of the floor. He grabbed her hand and pulled her from the throng. Her legs were like jelly.
Once away from the dance floor Max stopped and turned to Darcy, running a hand through his hair, an intense look on his face.
‘Look, Darcy—’ He stopped suddenly as something caught his eye over Darcy’s head. He cursed volubly and an infinitely hard expression came over his face.
Darcy frowned and looked behind her to see a stunningly beautiful woman in the far corner of the room. Something pulled at a vague memory. She was wearing a skin-tight black dress that shimmered and clung to her spectacular figure. Dark hair was swept back and up from her high-cheekboned face, and jewels sparkled at her ears and throat.
Darcy’s insides cramped a little as she wondered if it was an ex-lover of Max’s she’d seen in a magazine.
He was propelling them across the room before she could say anything, and as they got closer she could see that the woman was older than she’d imagined—but incredibly well-preserved.
She was arguing with a tall, handsome man, holding a glass of champagne and gesticulating. The wine was slopping messily onto the ground.
The man looked at Max with visible relief and more than a little irritation. He said curtly, ‘I’ve had enough—you’re welcome to her, Roselli.’
The woman whirled around, and just as Darcy noticed with a jolt of shock that she had exactly the same colour eyes as Max he was saying, in a tone tinged with steel, ‘Mamma.’
His mother issued a stream of vitriol. Her eyes were unfocused and there was a sheen of perspiration on her face. Her pupils were tiny pinpricks. It was shocking to come face-to-face with Max’s mother like this, and it made Darcy’s heart clench to think he’d probably only told her half of what she’d been like.
The other man had walked away. Max’s mother made as if to go after him but Max let go of Darcy’s arm to stop her, taking her glass away and handing it to Darcy. His mother screeched and Darcy could see people looking.
Max had his mother in a firm grip now, and he said to Darcy, ‘I’ll take her home. If you wait here I’ll get my driver to come back for you.’
Darcy was about to agree, but then she said quickly, ‘Shouldn’t I go with you? It’ll look a little odd if I don’t.’
Max was clearly reluctant to have Darcy witness this scene—she had a keen sense that he wouldn’t allow many, if any people to witness it—but he obviously realised she was right.
‘Fine, let’s go.’
Staff had ordered Max’s car to come round and he got into the back with his mother, who was remonstrating volubly with Max now. Darcy got in the front, her nerves jumping. Max was apparently used to this, and was on his phone making a terse call.
When they pulled up outside an exclusive apartment block in a residential part of Rome a man in a suit was waiting. Max introduced him as Dr. Marconi and he came in with them. Once inside a palatial apartment Max and the doctor and his mother disappeared into one of the rooms, with the door firmly closed behind them.
Darcy waited in the foyer, feeling extremely out of place. Max’s mother was shouting now, and crying. Darcy could hear Max’s voice, low and firm.
The shouting stopped.
After a long while Max re-emerged and Darcy stood up from where she’d been sitting on a gilt-edged chair.
‘How is she?’
Max’s hair was dishevelled, as if he’d been running his hands through it, and his bow tie was undone. He looked grim. ‘I’m sorry you had to witness that. I would have introduced you, but as you could probably tell her response was unlikely to be coherent.’
‘You’ve dealt with this before...?’
Max smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. ‘You could say that. She’s a drug addict. And an alcoholic. The man at the party was her latest enabler, but evidently he’s had enough. So what’ll happen now is she’ll enter an exclusive rehab centre, that’s got more in common with a five-star resort than a medical facility, and in about a month, when she’s detoxed, she’ll rise like a phoenix from the ashes and start all over again.’
The other man emerged now, and spoke in low tones to Max before taking his leave after bidding goodnight to Darcy. Max turned to her.
‘You should go. My driver is outside. I’m going to wait for a nurse to come and then make sure my mother is settled before I go. I’ll see you in the morning.’
Clearly he wanted her to go now. She backed away to the door.
‘Goodnight, Max.’ She turned back from the door to say impulsively, ‘I’m sorry...about your mother. If there’s anything I can do...’ She trailed off, feeling helpless.
‘Thank you,’ Max said shortly. ‘But it’s not your problem. I’ll deal with it.’