‘It is Athena, one of the Sicilian protector goddesses,’ he said. ‘It is very old and she will protect you, no?’
‘I love it,’ said Lou and Angelo put it around her neck. The heavy goddess sat on her chest, already feeling warm and settled there.
‘I love it,’ she said again.
Chapter Twenty-two
Toni’s thumb hovered over Oliver’s name in her phone contacts. If she called him, it would be the first time they had spoken since that night. The time in Ortigia meant the burning rage had left her. But the memory of their last moments together had been so fraught, so angry.
‘How could you do this to me?’ she’d raged. ‘How?’
‘I didn’t mean to ...’ he began. ‘I never meant to. I love you, Toni.’
‘You can’t love me,’ she’d hissed back at him. ‘If you loved me, you wouldn’t have done this. You’ve betrayed me. It would be easier if you’d fucked another woman.’
He flinched at this.
‘I would never do that to you, Toni,’ he said fervently.
‘Spare me your self-righteous bullshit. This is a worse betrayal. You fucked me over. We have nothing, you have ruined our marriage. How could I ever trust you again?’
He had nothing to say to that, and his silence had made her even angrier.
‘Get out of my sight!’ she’d shouted.
And he’d left.
What was she supposed to say to him now? She couldn’t imagine living with him, after everything. She couldn’t imagine living without him.
Toni pressed the button. He answered the phone so slowly that she thought he wouldn’t.
‘Toni?’
‘Hello, Oliver,’ she said calmly. ‘We need to talk.’
‘I’ve been phoning and phoning, leaving messages. Why haven’t you got back to me?’
It was odd, she thought: Oliver sounded different. Not the strong, commanding actor she’d fallen in love with but instead a man who’d been weak and who’d let her down. Now that she’d seen him this way, she couldn’t unsee it.
‘Toni, I’m in bits,’ he said. ‘I’m afraid to answer the phone in case it’s the money lender and I went into the casino the other night—’
‘You wentback?’ she asked.
‘I thought if I kept the stakes low, I could recoup some of it,’ her husband said earnestly.
Toni listened, wondering where the man she’d married and lived with for so long was gone. Nobody hearing Oliver would think that this was the fêted Shakespearean actor, famous around the world. In his place was a man who was lost in a world of addiction, consumed by gambling, sure that it would only take one last win to make it all right.
She wondered was there a version of AL Anon for the families of gamblers. She knew from journalistic stories that families of addicts had to let go, that nobody could make that choice to give up using, drinking, gambling apart from the person themselves.
‘Oliver, you need rehab,’ she said finally. ‘A residential place where you can deal with this. You’ve said it yourself: you’re addicted to gambling—’
‘No!’ he said brightly. ‘I wasn’t myself when I said that. I was upset. It was a momentary lapse. I’ve got it under control, Toni. But I need you with me. If I have you, I can control it. I can get the money back. And nobody’s going to attack me for not paying up if I’m living with you, are they? You know every cop in the country, you’re protected.’
He sounded so sure of himself that Toni held the phone away from her in shock.
‘Oliver! Are you living in cloud cuckoo land? Nobody can say they’re protected when thugs come after them. Just because I’m well known and have Gardai friends means nothing.’
She felt disgusted. Not only had he lost everything but he was banking on her contacts to keep him safe. Was this why he wanted to stay with her?
