It’s Netta’s fault, she thought, talking about him and me like that.
She was about to walk out and leave him, but her conscience stopped her. She couldn’t let other people find him here. She gave him a gentle shake on the shoulder. It took several shakes before he opened his eyes.
‘You’ve been sleeping like a baby,’ she said, her eyes gleaming at him in the darkness.
‘Oh, Lord, did anyone notice I was gone?’ he groaned.
‘Does it matter?’
‘That place is full of young lads who can carouse all night and then start again without any sleep. At one time I could have done it, too, and I’m damned if I’ll let them suspect I can’t do it still.’
Minnie smiled and produced the bottle of mineral water, unscrewing it for him.
‘Thanks.’ He drank deeply and felt better. ‘Whatever happened to my misspent youth?’
‘You spent it,’ she said sympathetically.
‘Yes, I guess I did.’
‘I wonder how. I’ll bet you’d never seen the inside of a cell before last night.’
‘There’s no need to insult me,’ he said drowsily. ‘When I was younger I had my moments-I should be heading back to the hotel soon. I’ll say goodbye to Netta and then-’
He tried to get up and sank back. His brief doze, far from refreshing him, had started dragging him down to the depths of sleep, and there would be no escape until he’d gone all the way to the bottom and surfaced gradually.
‘You’ll never make it,’ she said. ‘I’ve got a better idea. Stay here a moment.’
He fell asleep again as soon as she left, and awoke to the feel of her shaking him by the shoulder.
‘Come on,’ she said in a tone of command.
He had a vague awareness of going down a flight of stairs and along a corridor until they stopped outside a door. She took out the key that she had been to fetch, and opened the door of an empty apartment.
‘This is between tenants at the moment,’ she said. ‘Of course you’ll find it a bit of a comedown after the Contini-’
‘If it’s got a bed, it’s fine,’ he murmured.
‘It’s got a bed, but it’s not made up.’
She reached into a cupboard to find a pillow that she tossed onto the bed, followed by some blankets.
‘Hey, steady there,’ she said, catching him swaying. ‘Now lie down.’
‘Thanks,’ he mumbled, collapsing thankfully, and doing it so fast that she went down onto the bed with him.
‘OK, let me go,’ she said.
‘Hmm?’
‘Let me go.’
But the grip of his arms was unrelenting. He was too far out of it to heed her protests, but he was holding her against his chest in a grip she couldn’t break.
She told herself that there was nothing lover-like about his clasp, and she must be as unaware of him as he presumably was of her. But the warmth of his great body was reaching her, enveloping her, taking control in a way that was alarming.
For a moment she was almost tempted. It was so long since she’d known the first moments of thrilling sensation with their implicit promise of what was to come, and it was hard to turn away now.
Yet she forced herself. Weakness was something she couldn’t afford. That was the code she lived by, and she wasn’t going to forget it now. Putting out all her strength, she managed to prop herself up a few inches, just far enough to deliver a well-aimed sock on his jaw.
Like magic he went limp, and she managed to get free.
‘Sorry about that,’ she said, untruthfully.
‘Mmm?’
She tucked a blanket around him, and slipped quietly away.
At dawn Luke awoke and lay with his eyes still closed, trying to sort out his impressions. They were very confused.
A soft, warm, female body lying against his own-his head spinning-
He opened his eyes.
He was in a place he didn’t recognise. The narrow bed beneath him stood in the corner of a small room which had a chest of drawers, a chair and a lamp. Nothing else.
He rose and pushed open the door leading to a living room with a small kitchen leading off. Like the bedroom it was sparsely furnished, containing only a sofa, two chairs and a table. The only other room was a small bathroom.
If only he could remember, but he’d been barely awake and had received only impressions. He’d held a woman close to his body and she’d been moving urgently-in the motions of love? Or trying to get away?
And who? Not the gazelle-like Olympia, who had sometimes filled his dreams, but someone shorter, more strongly built, with a powerful right hook he thought, as he recalled the reason his jaw was tender.
The sound of the front door made him turn. It was Signora Pepino, sauntering in and standing there, surveying him with a cheeky grin.
He barely recognised her. He’d seen her as ‘Portia’ in an elegant black gown, giving a commanding performance in the courtroom. Last night at the party she’d been glamorous in silk and velvet. Both of those women had been ‘Signora Pepino’.
But this was ‘Minnie’, an urchin in old jeans and blue T-shirt. He wished she would stay the same woman for more than a few hours.
‘So you’re up at last,’ she said with an air of teasing. ‘This is the third time I’ve been back. You were dead to the world. Do you feel better?’
‘Ye-es,’ he said cautiously, making the word half a question, and feeling his jaw tenderly.
To his relief, she burst out laughing.
‘I’m sorry about that.’
‘It was you?’
She surveyed him with hilarity. ‘Another woman would feel insulted by that question. Do women thump you so often that you can’t remember them?’
‘You’re the first-I think.’
‘Are we back to your misspent youth again? I’m not sure I want to know the details.’
‘Fine, because I can’t recall them.’ He felt his jaw again. ‘But I won’t forget you in a hurry.’ He looked around. ‘Where did I see a bathroom?’
‘No use. Everything’s turned off. Come up to my place and I’ll make you some breakfast.’
Now he could see the courtyard in broad daylight, and appreciate how cleverly the tenants had made the best of it. It might have been a dreary place with its dark bricks, plain construction and the staircase that ran around the inner wall looking like a fire escape. Indeed, it probably doubled as a fire escape, but it was also the way to get from one home to another.
But the dwellers here had fought back with flowers. There were several different kinds, but mostly geraniums, for Italians had a passion for geraniums, with their ability to spread colour and cheerfulness over the grimmest scene.
They were everywhere-white, red, purple, rioting over railings, trailing from pots, smothering ugliness. Just the sight of them lifted his spirits.
Minnie’s apartment turned out to be opposite the one they’d left, but one floor higher. Whereas his had been a shoe box, barely big enough for one person, hers could manage two, three at a pinch, and had a cosy, friendly air.
She produced some towels and directed him to the bathroom.
‘Breakfast will be ready when you’ve showered,’ she said.
She hadn’t quite finished cooking when he came out, and it gave him a chance to look around and see her home. Anything he could learn about her would be useful in the coming battle.
It was cosy and unpretentious, slightly shabby but delightful. He suddenly noticed a photograph standing on a shelf, with a small vase of flowers beside it. The man resembled Charlie, although he was older, and Luke realised this must be Gianni.
‘That was my husband,’ Minnie said, coming to stand beside him.
Gianni had a wide, laughing mouth, gleefully wicked eyes and the same air of irresponsible charm as Charlie.
‘You can see that he’s a Pepino,’ Luke observed.