‘OK, Cedric,’ he said into the phone. ‘Look, don’t worry about it. It’s not your fault. I’ll take care of it. Don’t blame yourself. I’m coming. Just hang in there.’
‘You’re going back to England?’ she asked.
‘Only for a couple of days. Do you remember a man called Norris Banyon?’
‘Yes, he ran the accounts department, but he left suddenly a couple of weeks ago. I never liked him.’
‘With reason, it seems. He was fiddling the books for years.’
‘But how could he get away with it? Leonate had a firm of accountants swarming all over the books before you made your offer. They said everything was all right.’
‘Yes, but Banyon had had time to cover his tracks, and he was there, day by day, thinking on his feet, always ready with an explanation for any question they raised. But as soon as the deal was concluded he left, taking a large sum with him. And, of course, the minute he was gone it began to unravel.
‘Is it disastrous?’
‘No, it won’t bring us down or anything. But Cedric blames himself.’
‘That’s not fair.’
‘No, it isn’t. I have to go back to calm him down. I’ll get some more accountants in-a different firm this time-and they’ll sort it out. Then I’ll cheer poor old Cedric up. Since his wife died last year he’s been alone. He has no children or close family, so there’s nobody at home to help him cope.’
Olympia stared. She hadn’t known Cedric’s wife had died.
‘That’s really nice of you,’ she said.
‘Well, Cedric-er-did me a big favour recently.’ He cleared his throat awkwardly.
‘I’ll come too.’
‘Better not,’ he said quickly.
‘But I was his assistant. I can help with this.’
‘He’d hate for you to know. I’ll be back in a few days, when I’ve hired the new auditors. Until then, enjoy being a tourist and get to know my city.’ He looked at his watch. ‘There’s a plane at dawn. I’d better go now.’
‘You mean this minute?’ she asked, horrified.
‘I don’t want to go but I think I must.’
‘Of course. Give him my love.’
But she could have wept with disappointment. Something had started to happen, something that wasn’t supposed to happen, and which she’d foolishly resisted. Now she was no longer resisting and she could see the road stretching out ahead, uncertain but inviting. Just not yet.
He hesitated over saying goodbye, holding her hand in his. At last he laid a gentle kiss on her mouth and hurried away. From the balcony she could see him leave the hotel, get into his car and drive away down the hill.
She looked back at her suite, the epitome of luxury, a symbol of the place she had wanted to be. But there was nobody there with her.
She thought of Cedric, too uptight to talk about his loneliness with the people he’d known for years. But Jack had known and responded with kindness.
He called her on the evening of the next day, telling her that things weren’t as bad as they’d sounded, and he’d persuaded Cedric to stop beating his breast.
‘I’ll be with you soon,’ he said. ‘How are you occupying your time without me?’
‘Reading dictionaries,’ she said.
His voice reached her down the line, warm and amused, thrilling her from a distance of a thousand miles. ‘So now you know what strega means. Do you like it?’
‘Yes, I think I do. It could be interesting. But I won’t know until you come back.’
‘It’ll be as soon as I can manage. And when I’m there we have a lot to talk about.’
‘I know. Come back soon.’
When she’d hung up she sat looking at the phone, seeming to hear his voice in the air about her. For a moment the sensation was so strong that she nearly reached out, sure that she could touch him.
There was a suspicious wetness in her eyes and on her cheeks. She brushed it away, then went to bed and lay awake dreaming about him.
She whiled away the time by exploring Naples, but after the first day she was so footsore that she hired a car.
She went out into the countryside, stopped to eat at small inns and drove back as late as possible, trying to convince herself that she was having a good time. The land was beautiful, the bay was astonishing, but it was all wrong because he wasn’t here.
She’d told herself that she must run from him, but running was useless. He could give her the kind of feelings she’d sworn never to know again, and to rejoice in them. That knowledge would be waiting around every corner.
And he knew. Of course he did. He’d played along with the joke, waiting for her to get over her fantasies and reach out to the real man. It had happened, and all could be well, except that it had happened in the wrong way, at the wrong time, when he wasn’t even here.
Perhaps she’d needed him to go, so that the ache of missing him told her what she wanted to know. But why, oh why, didn’t he come back to her now?
Meanwhile she tried to occupy herself with being a tourist, but wherever she went she was thinking of him, planning how to tell him that she’d changed. How they would laugh together at the way she’d been overcome by her feelings! And then-
Every day she lunched at the trattoria where they’d eaten during his few brief hours here, at the same table if possible. Then she would search for something to fill the afternoon.
Despite all the historical sights, what attracted her most was the great building that was Leonate Europa. She longed to visit it, and even went so far as to turn into its underground car park. There she switched off the engine and sat behind the wheel, torn by temptation.
Surely it would do no harm to go in and introduce herself? After all, she’d signed a contract to work here. She could meet Enrico Leonate. She might even meet Primo Rinucci.
Then she smiled as she realised that she didn’t care whether she met him or not. Only Jack counted now. Soon he would call to say he was returning. She would go to meet him at the airport and their time would come.
She started up the engine and began to edge her way out of the car park into the stream of traffic. It was late afternoon, the worst time of day to be driving. The traffic was at its most crowded and she was fast becoming confused by the car and everything around her. She remembered Jack attributing his accident to the fact that the English drove on the ‘wrong’ side of the road. Now she knew how he felt.
There was a blast on the horn from the driver behind her. Startled, she turned the car swiftly to the side, realising too late that she’d chosen the wrong one.
‘Damn!’ she muttered, trying to brake, turn and see where she was going, all at once. ‘Oh, no!’
A shadow had appeared on her windscreen, a shadow that vanished with alarming suddenness.
‘Oh, no!’ she cried again, flinging herself out of the car. ‘What have I done?’
‘Covered me with bruises,’ said a man’s voice from the ground. Mercifully he sounded robust, even amused.
‘I didn’t actually hit you, did I?’
‘No, I jumped out of the way when you swerved, and missed my footing.’ He climbed to his feet, moving gingerly. ‘Those kerbs are very sharp when you fall on them,’ he complained, rubbing his elbow.
A bellow of sound from behind reminded her that other drivers were waiting to move.
‘I’ve got to go,’ she said, ‘but I can’t just leave you here. Can you get into my car?’
‘Why don’t I drive it for you?’
‘That might be better,’ she said with relief. ‘The roads in Naples are-I don’t know-’
When they were in the car and he was guiding them through the traffic he said, ‘It’s not just Naples. The roads in the rest of Italy are pretty hair-raising too. You’re not Italian, are you?’
‘You guessed! Neither are you by the sound of it. English?’
‘Let’s say I started out that way. Nowadays I’m not sure what I am. What’s your name?’