‘Things are not different.’ She pressed her fingers into his back, and he felt the flame of desire as was usual when he was within touching distance of this woman who had taught him the meaning of love and all that it could be. If life with Winnie was brittle, with Gianna it was yielding. If Winnie was ice, she was fire. And in her arms, he had slept like never before, as if the world were a wondrous, ever-blue-sky place where he could finally rest, knowing he would wake with an abundance of pleasure at his fingertips.
‘You want a speech? You want a speech, Gia?’ His throat felt tight and there was the unmistakeable irritation of a twitch beneath his left eye. Without prior thought or having to draw on lines he may have rehearsed en route or in a state of panic, he spoke firmly and loudly.
‘I am entering that time in my life when I will wither – when I will become no more than the snap of ashy bone. And in this withering time I will miss the grape, grain and fat that have made these last seven years glorious! That is a gift you gave me and one I will never forget. You, Gia – you are like rain on my face after drought. You are warm food on a cold, cold day. You have beenmy comfort and rest when the road ahead looked long and lonely. That’s the speech I give you.’
The sound she made was part whimper, part sob and this, too, he knew he would never forget. It was the sound of a person wounded, a soul damaged and a body, like his, understanding that this was the end.
‘MrKelleway!’ Carlo yelled heartily from the back entrance of the kitchen. ‘How lovely to see you! I hope you enjoyed your meal last night. Everyone seemed to have a great time!’
Bernie felt his cheeks flame scarlet and his stomach drop with fear as he and Gianna darted apart. He was unsure how long the man had been standing there. His bowel spasmed with fear as he scrabbled for the box, grateful for the prop, as he raised it high. ‘Your wife has very kindly made pasta for my daughter, for ... for Cleo who has just become a mother for the first time! It’s a big day!’ He smiled. ‘A big day for us all!’
‘A big day indeed! My sincere congratulations!’ Carlo boomed. Bernie felt the man’s large hand on his back, as he guided him towards the front door. ‘And did MrsBianchi tell you my news?’
‘Your news? N-no ... no, she didn’t,’ he stuttered, looking over his shoulder to where Gianna stood with her hands knitted at her chest, almost in prayer and with a tortured expression that cut him.
‘Yes, big news.’ He opened the front door and Bernie took a step outside. ‘I’m going home! I’m returning to Tuscany to sit in the sun, grow my own food and take slow walks. I can’t wait.’
‘It sounds ...’ Bernie looked at the ground, trying to sort the competing emotions as distress, envy and loss fought for pole position.
‘We are?’ Gianna asked with her chest heaving and her face breaking into an expression of joy, replacing the look of fear. ‘We are going home?’ She placed her hand over her mouth as if it was almost more than she dared believe.
‘No, no, Gia,amore mio.Weare not going home;Iam going home.’
Gianna looked like she might fall as, reaching out, she placed her hand on the countertop to steady herself. Bernie felt conflicted, keen to be gone from the man’s restaurant as well as not show any familiarity towards Gianna in front of him, but also wary and a little ashamed of not being there to catch his lover if she fell.
Carlo took a step closer until he and Bernie were almost nose to nose. He leaned in closely, so close that Bernie could smell the coffee on his breath. To be in such proximity to the man made him feel deeply uncomfortable.
Gianna’s husband whispered softly into his ear. ‘If I see you again – here, or anywhere else – I will kill you. And I don’t mean figuratively, my friend. I mean that I willkillyou. And they will never find your body. Do you understand me?’ His words so gently spoken, were all the more chilling for that.
Bernie nodded, fear quaking in his limbs.
‘Now fuck off and never, ever come near me again.’
Bernie turned on trembling legs and caught the way Carlo stared at his wife with his top lip curled in an expression of pure disgust. Gianna seemed to shrink under his gaze. She looked suddenly older and ... afraid. Yes, she looked afraid, and he more than understood, remembering well what it had felt like to stand at the bus stop and not know where his next penny was coming from or even how he was going to get out of the blocks.
He walked briskly towards the car. Juggling the hot pasta box, he fumbled in his pocket for the car keys. Climbing onto the soft leather, he placed the food on the front seat and pulled his sunglasses over his eyes before starting the engine and driving away as quickly as he was able.
Despite the gut-churning terror he had felt at Carlo’s threat, there was also no small amount of relief. Fear of discovery hadlurked in the background of their dalliance, a minor detraction from the joy of his infidelity but a detraction nonetheless, and now he didn’t have to worry about that. He didn’t have to worry about any of it. It was, he decided, probably a good thing that MrBianchi was leaving the area. And as for Gianna? He knew it was best to close that chapter in his life, best for everyone. The aroma of the freshly made piping-hot Fettuccini Alfredo filled his car and made his mouth water. Yes, it was probably all for the best. But my God how he would miss her and how he would miss her pasta ...
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
JULIEKELLEWAY
Julie stood in the bedroom and listened as Lawrence showered. He’d made clear his intention to go straight to his mum’s to be part of the new baby celebration. His mood she could best describe as ebullient, which, when she considered the dagger-like pain that split her chest in two, only served to irritate and distress her. If there were a better metaphor for how he caused such pain, such disruption and then sauntered on as if nothing was amiss, she was hard pushed to think of it. She could hear him whistling now, and it made the hair on her arms bristle. She stared at the wall. How to explain this numbness – was she in shock? Quite possibly.Lisa...Lisa next door...Depressed Lisa...
This, however, wasn’t her first time at the rodeo. This feeling in her gut, the nervous anticipation bookended with naked fear, topped with pure sorrow, took her back to that day she got the call, just over three years ago now. She’d never forget it and still relived the horror of it in her quieter moments.
It had been a sunny day in their East Melbourne home. She’d folded the laundry with the radio playing, had a cup of coffee and placed the mug in the dishwasher. Sun diamonds sparkled on thesurface of their swimming pool and the muslin curtains of the day room wafted in on the breeze. The way they skirted the dark wood floor was pleasing and, as ever, she felt delighted that this was her home, her beautiful home. She wondered if she would always feel like the girl from the Merrigo estate and that she had no right to be here.
The thought was without prophecy, no more than a consideration, and yet within minutes her phone rang. It was Lawrence who sounded ... How did he sound? Angry? Flustered? Agitated? Yes, all the above, but something else too and it was this final realisation that meant he held her attention, paying heed to every word he rattled off. He sounded scared. Yes, he sounded scared, and this alone was enough to frighten her.
‘Pack a bag, just ... just take what you need. I’ll be there as soon as I can.’
His words were odd, bizarre, alarming.
‘What?’ she’d laughed, waiting for the punchline.
‘Listen to me. No time to explain. Get the kids to pack too, but not too much, just one bag.’
