It perplexed him. It was driving him crazy. He told himself over and over that she was a liar who had been prepared to lie in order to secure her future. That she would never understand what made a traditionally Neapolitan man like himself tick. But none of his convictions seemed to last beyond a minute and that confused the hell out of him. What did she have that made him instantly want to lose himself in her—as if she alone possessed the balm which could soothe his troubled spirit? Had she cast some kind of spell on him, the moment she’d entered his life?
‘Ciro?’
‘What?’ he growled, turning back to face her, letting his eyes drift over the spill of her hair, which was cascading all the way down her back and wondering whether he should postpone his first meeting and take her back to bed.
‘You asked what I was planning to do today.’
‘Did I?’
She gave a tight smile but secretly she was rather relieved by his air of distraction, knowing he wasn’t going to like what she had to say. ‘I thought I’d go and see your mother.’
This piece of information wiped all the confused thoughts from his head and had him frowning as he looked at her. ‘Why would you want to do that?’
‘Because she’s your mother. And I’m your wife.’
‘But you’re not really my wife, are you, Lily? We both know that.’
‘I may not be your wife in the true sense of the word—but your mother doesn’t know that, does she? And if you want to maintain this fiction of a marriage, then visiting her
seems the right thing to do. Anyway, I’d like to go and see her. I can’t keep spending every day exploring churches and listening to Italian lessons on my headset while you go out and make yet another fortune.’
She saw his eyes narrow and knew he was still bemused by her insistence on learning a language which wasn’t going to be of any use to her in the future. She’d argued with him over this—saying that no new language would ever be wasted. He seemed to think that now she had access to his bank account, she’d want to spend all her days spending it. But Lily hadn’t done that—something which she knew perplexed him. She had fallen in love with Naples, and pride made her want to make herself understood while she was living there. For a few brief months, she wanted to feel part of this warm, southern paradise.
Ciro mulled over this latest surprising development. ‘My mother isn’t a great socialiser,’ he said repressively. ‘I doubt whether she’ll agree to see you.’
‘She already has.’
‘Scusi?’ He stared at her in disbelief.
‘I rang her yesterday and said I’d like to go round and she’s invited me for coffee.’
Ciro felt the slow build of anger though he couldn’t quite pinpoint the cause of it. Because she hadn’t checked with him first? Or because he felt uncomfortable about her seeing a woman with whom he’d always had a difficult relationship? ‘You went behind my back and phoned my mother and arranged to meet her?’
‘Yes, Ciro—if that’s how you want to look at it, I did. I committed the heinous crime of trying to be polite—something which is obviously beyond your comprehension.’
‘There’s no need to be insolent.’
‘Why, have you taken out a monopoly on insolence?’ she challenged.
Their eyes met in a silent tussle of wills and for one brief moment Ciro almost smiled. But any humour was dissolved by what she’d just told him. Why was she starting up a pointless relationship with his mother?
‘Is there nothing I can say which will change your mind?’
‘Absolutely nothing. Short of you getting hold of some chains and imprisoning me in the apartment, I’m going round there for coffee this morning.’
‘Then so be it.’ He picked up his briefcase and his mouth hardened. ‘But she can be a difficult woman. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.’
His words still ringing in her ears, she got ready for her meeting with her mother-in-law, changing her outfit three times and ending up feeling hot and flustered. A taxi took her to Leonora D’Angelo’s large apartment and when she was shown into the dimly lit salon she felt big and clumsy compared to the bird-like frame of Ciro’s mother.
Lily perched on the edge of a velvet chair and accepted a tiny cup of coffee and a wave of sadness washed over her. How long had it been since she’d sat and drunk coffee with her own mother like this? She wondered what advice she would have given her about Ciro, and realised how much she still missed her.
Despite her advanced years, Leonora D’Angelo remained a handsome woman, with dark eyes so reminiscent of her son and a bone structure which emphasised her angular jaw. She wore a plain grey dress and a twisted gold necklace and on her bony fingers glittered an impressive array of diamonds. She leaned back in her chair and gave Lily a cool smile.
‘So. The younger Signora D’Angelo is looking a little pale. You are settling well into Naples, I hope?’
Lily managed to produce a smile, wondering what her mother-in-law would say if she came out and told it how it really was. I’m just about managing to tolerate living with a man who despises me, even though the feeling isn’t exactly mutual. Because learning to unlove someone isn’t as easy as you might think. ‘It’s a beautiful city,’ she said politely.
Leonora nodded. ‘I think so—though, to many, Naples is an enigma. A place of light and dark. Where sometimes you turn a corner and never quite know what you’ll find.’ She gave a thin smile. ‘Perhaps a little like my son.’