A Shadow of Guilt

Then the air steward was interrupting them and telling them they’d be landing in a few minutes. Blindly Valentina found her belt buckle and fastened it. The click seemed to reverberate around her head and she looked out the window as the familiar Sicilian landscape rushed up to meet them and kept telling herself, Breathe, just keep breathing.

Once the plane had landed and they were on the tarmac Gio turned to Valentina. A muscle ticked in his jaw. ‘One of my assistants will take you to get your car at the racetrack. You can let him know when you wish to return to Naples and he’ll arrange for your flight.’

Pride stiffened Valentina’s spine and to her everlasting relief she felt strong enough to say, ‘I can take a scheduled flight, Gio, you don’t have to—’

He slashed a hand through the air, making her flinch minutely. And then he cursed softly. ‘Just … don’t argue, Valentina, please. Take my plane.’

Valentina felt like childishly stamping her foot and demanding why the hell he cared if she went by his plane or not when he clearly never wanted to lay eyes on her again. But just then his phone rang and he lifted it to his ear, not taking his eyes off Valentina, as if daring her to defy him. ‘Pronto? ’

As Valentina watched she saw Gio’s face turn ashen. He said faintly, ‘I’ll be right there.’

Impulsively she reached out a hand, scared. ‘Gio, what is it?’

He was distracted, looking for his assistant, who came running before turning back to Valentina. ‘It’s Misfit, he’s been taken ill.’

‘Oh, Gio …’ Her throat constricted and all anger drained away. ‘Is there anything I can do?’

Gio stopped for a moment and looked at her, his assistant hovering nearby, and then he just said with chilling finality, ‘No, there’s nothing you can do. Goodbye, Valentina.’

And then he’d turned and was walking to his low sports car nearby. He swung into the vehicle and with a muted roar was gone. The assistant approached Valentina and took her small case out of numb fingers. ‘Ms Ferranti? If you’d like to follow me?’

Two days later Valentina was returning on Gio’s private plane to Sicily in the early evening. She’d delivered her mother’s clothes and supplies from home. Her father was gaining strength every day and, in all honesty, Valentina knew she hadn’t seen him look better in years. What Gio had done, with such effortless ease, had ensured a renewed lease of life to her parents that they could never have attained on their own.

Gio. Valentina felt numb when she thought of him. She still had to clear her things out of the accommodation at the racetrack but felt too weary to think about it straightaway. Her heart clenched when she remembered how ashen Gio had gone on hearing that Misfit was ill. For the first time Valentina realised fully how no one had been there for Gio after Mario died; Mario had been his only, closest friend. A friendship and trust that had been hard won, and which had encompassed her too, once.

When the plane landed Valentina went to her car which was parked in the car park. She sat in it for a long time before making a decision.

When she approached the closed and unfriendly looking gates of Gio’s castello about thirty minutes later she cursed her impetuosity. A guard approached from an artfully hidden small Portakabin she hadn’t noticed before.

‘Can I help you?’

She took a deep breath. ‘I’d like to see Signor Corretti, please.’

‘Is he expecting you?’

Valentina stuttered, her bravado failing her, ‘N-no, but if you tell him it’s Valentina Ferranti …’ Then he’ll tell them that he absolutely doesn’t want to see you, a voice mocked in her head.

Valentina shivered when the security guard disappeared again. She now had an inkling of what it would be like to be on the other side of Gio’s afffections, and just how much she’d taken his attention for granted.

A long minute later the guard returned and opened the gate saying, ‘He’s at the stables.’

‘Thank you.’ Valentina shifted her gears awkwardly as nerves suddenly gripped her. What was she doing here with some misguided notion that she could somehow comfort Gio when he might need it? You didn’t worry about his well-being seven years ago, her inner conscience mocked her.

Valentina pushed down all the nerves and voices. She owed Gio at least the courtesy of seeing how Misfit was doing. She knew how much the horse meant to him. She pulled up behind some other cars parked near the stable courtyard and got out.

Dusk was falling but she could see light spilling from the main stables and went towards it. When she entered it took a minute for her to see that Gio had his back to her. He was on his haunches at the entrance to one of the stalls. His back looked impossibly broad as it tapered down to those narrow hips. Hesitantly she went forward and wasn’t prepared for when Gio’s voice, sounding harsh and husky, said, ‘What are you doing here, Valentina?’

CHAPTER TEN

‘I …’ THE WORDS FROZE in Valentina’s throat as Gio stood up and turned around. He looked wild. Unshaven, bleary eyed. His hair was mussed up. He looked as if he hadn’t been to bed since she’d last seen him.

She swallowed. ‘I was concerned. I wanted to know how Misfit was doing.’

Gio wiped his hands with a towel and threw it down on the ground, then he stepped back and gestured with a hand. ‘See for yourself, he’s dying. The vet is coming back in an hour to administer the final shot to put him out of his misery.’

Valentina could feel the blood draining from her face. She moved closer to see the huge majestic horse lying on his side with his eyes closed. His whole body was sheened with sweat and his breaths were impossibly shallow.

Eyes huge, she looked at Gio and whispered, ‘What happened?’