‘A starring role in a major film! That’s what we’ve been waiting for, isn’t it? He wants me to play the girl the brothers fight over, the one they call the Lily. She’s the central character and a lot happens to her. She’s raped by German soldiers, almost shot by partisans, her heart gets broken. You must see that this could be the break I need.’
Melanie had that blank, fixed expression, which meant she was thinking intently. ‘Maybe,’ she mused. ‘It’s true, we’re looking for a big break for you. Your career has gone very well so far but if you’re ever to be a star you need to get a major part in a big commercial film, and this could be it. Okay. But if it means you getting involved with Sebastian Ferrese I’m not sure that the price isn’t too high. There’s an atmosphere around that man. I always have the feeling he’s bad luck, and not just because of his wife’s death. The man himself has an aura.’
‘A lot of directors are pretty weird. It’s a strange profession. Like acting. I know some truly crazy actors.’ Laura grinned at her teasingly. ‘And as for agents … I know one who should be certified.’
‘Yes – for having an idiot on my books who won’t listen to a word I say!’ Melanie grumbled. ‘Don’t come to me to complain if he chucks you out of a window next week.’ She marched to the door. ‘There’s no time to talk this through. Come on, we’ve got to get downstairs. It doesn’t hurt to keep men waiting, but I want my dinner. Now, be nice to these men! They could do a lot for you, and even if they don’t, making friends in high places is always a wise policy.’
One eye on her watch, Valerie Hyde sat in her own room waiting impatiently for her mini-printer to finish churning out pages of notes she had earlier tapped into her lap-top computer.
It had been easy enough to get permission to search the local newspaper files and, as she knew the month and year of the accident, she had had no trouble in finding the reports of the inquest on Sebastian’s mother. She had been given permission to use her lap-top to take notes, expecting it would take just a few minutes to transcribe the news reports. She certainly had not anticipated un
covering what increasingly began to look like an unsolved murder.
She had continued to comb though months of files in the hope of discovering further information, but in vain: there was no report of anyone being arrested or even questioned, let alone charged or convicted of the death by drowning of Gina Ferrese. Valerie had considered approaching the Venice police for information, but had decided against that until she had had time to discuss the idea with Sebastian. He must have had some idea that there was a mystery attached to the way in which his mother died to have asked Valerie to go through the newspaper files. Perhaps it would be wiser not to probe too deeply yet, in case Sebastian already knew who had done it and wanted to keep it quiet.
His father could have been behind the death – who else would have had reason to kill Gina Ferrese? Valerie knew Sebastian had been devoted to his father: he might go to great lengths to protect the memory of the dead man, and, after all, what would be the point of digging up a long-forgotten mystery when everyone concerned was now dead?
When the printer finally stopped chattering, she collected the pages, put them in order and quickly read through her notes yet again.
Did Sebastian know exactly how his mother had died? He had only been six. Had he known who died with her that day?
He had rarely talked about his childhood or his background, and Valerie’s curiosity had been strongly aroused when she read the name of the man who was in the boat with Gina Ferrese. There was a lot more to this story than she had yet discovered – that much was certain – and, whether Sebastian wanted it or not, Valerie was determined to dig deeper.
Sidney McKenna lifted his head to watch the latest arrivals in the bar, his eyes narrowing to slits. He had a throaty, whisky voice after years of sitting around in smoke-filled bars drinking and shouting to make himself heard above the clamour.
‘There’s Laura. You know, she’s growing into her looks. When we first found her she was a gawky kid, like a young foal, all big eyes and long legs. Look at her now.’
Sebastian had seen her long before Sidney did – he had felt her walk into the bar, the tiny hairs on the back of his neck bristling.
Sidney was right: she had lost the heartbreaking vulnerability of the very young girl, which had moved him so deeply when he first met her. There is something about very young things that touches a chord in the heart as nothing else does.
After living with a woman who swore like a trooper, was belligerent, a street-fighter, very sure of herself, the hidden tenderness in Sebastian’s heart had loved the things about Laura that were the opposite to Clea – her shining innocence, the wide-eyed uncertainty, the way Laura never quite seemed to know where to move her hands and feet, the sudden scalding blushes that swept up her face.
She was a woman now, far more aware of herself, poised and cool, moving with calm grace in a dress that flowed down her body in a silky wave.
What had happened to her? He would never know. Clea threw the truth at you as if it was mud that she hoped would stick to you. Laura’s reticence was part of her natural defence system: she would never tell. He could only hope it hadn’t been as bad as Clea’s experiences in this filthy business.
‘She should cut that hair. I’d like to see it almost down to stubble, just a head full of tiny, tiny curls, like a baby.’ Sidney propped his elbows on the bar table and rested his chin in his palms, his long, sensitive fingers forming a frame through which he gazed at Laura. ‘Yes, that would look good. The hair’s too ordinary like that. She can challenge convention, she’s a one-off, she should exploit that. Of course, she’s too young to understand what she’s capable of – that will come, once she’s fully mature.’
‘Can we go and eat? I’m starving, and when this lot finally get through drinking themselves stupid every table in the dining room will be taken,’ Valerie said, her black eyes burning with resentment.
She had not yet given Sebastian the notes she had typed earlier. She wanted to get him to herself first, so that she could watch him read the pages, decipher his expressions, the look in his eyes. She knew him so well. Better than anyone. Yet Sebastian was like an iceberg, with large areas of his personality and thought processes buried beneath the surface. What was hidden was probably far more dangerous than anything you could see with the naked eye.
Sidney smiled sleepily at her. ‘Aren’t we in a temper? I wonder what tweaked our tail. Or do I? No, not really, it’s pretty obvious what’s eating you up, Val, I’m afraid.’
‘Screw you.’ Valerie turned red and glanced at Sebastian, who was totally unaware of her, his eyes fixed on Laura.
Sidney crowed, ‘Is that an invitation? Here and now? Or shall we go upstairs? What’s your favourite position, darling? I’ve often wondered. Missionary? You don’t look the adventurous type.’
‘Do I have to listen to this crap?’ she demanded of Sebastian, who blinked at her and suddenly woke up to the conversation.
‘Let her alone, Sid. Your idea of humour isn’t the same as hers.’
‘She hasn’t got a sense of humour! She hasn’t got much sense at all. If she had, she’d stop baying at the moon. She’s a sad case, nearly as blind as you are.’
Sebastian looked blank. Absently he said, ‘What are you babbling about?’
His eyes moved back to Laura, who was laughing at something Melanie had just said to her. He watched the pale curve of her throat, the way the sensuous, elegant white silk gown clung to her body. His mouth went dry. Heat burned in his groin.