‘Vittoria!’ It was Jade’s turn to gape. When she realised a group of men on a nearby table had turned to listen, she lowered her voice to a hiss. ‘She dumped me. Then she strolls in,introduces herself, says she’s down on her luck and so would I please employ her? That’s damned cold. I owe her nothing.’
Vittoria shrugged. ‘I agree. But we don’t always do things because we owe a debt. It’s because it suits us, or we’re curious, or we think it’s right.’
Shaking her head, Jade snatched up her glass, flounced back in her chair and watched people strolling by. She didn’t care if she was wearing the baboon face. She’d wanted Vittoria to assure her that she’d done the right thing, the only thing, in sending Geneva away.
Vittoria patted Jade’s knee. ‘I’ll buy more wine.’ She signalled to the waiter.
‘Espresso for me, this time. I’ll have to get back.’ Then Jade fell to brooding over Geneva, wondering whether her fidgeting from foot to foot had indicated shiftiness.
Or if she’d been embarrassed.
And she’d left so easily. Had she learnt not to expect much of life...? For the first time, she wondered whether Geneva had only hoped for a job... or something more.
That evening, after she’d closed Reception and eaten chicken with potatoes without much appetite, she called Sheenagh. ‘You’ll never guess who arrived at Three Sisters today.’
Sheenagh hazarded, ‘George Clooney?’ Then, more sharply, ‘Who? Are you OK?’
‘Just shocked. It was mymother.’ She pronounced the final word with mocking emphasis, as air quotes didn’t work over the phone.
‘You’re... you’re serious?’ Sheenagh squeaked. ‘Oh, darling. What did she want?’
Briefly, Jade outlined the meeting. Sheenagh seemed lost for words and kept repeating, ‘Well,’ and, ‘My.’ And, finally, ‘I don’tthink you should give her a job, Jade. It won’t be good for you. I’m sure Mairead would be outraged.’
Jade stared up at where the plaster had crazed around the ceiling rose and wondered whether Sheenagh was right on the last point. Though soft of heart, Gran had been tough when necessary.
‘Areyou OK? You’ve had one shock after another this summer.’ Sheenagh gave a frustrated growl. ‘I can’t believe her cheek.’
‘Same.’ Jade pictured the thin woman with the pewter-coloured curls, the worn dress and mules, the gaze that had wavered as she’d asked for a job. The phone number in Gran’s jewellery box. ‘But she’s gone now. How’s everything with you? It was lovely to see Sofi growing a grandchild for you to love.’
Sheenagh laughed delightedly. ‘I can’t wait for that wee one to be born!’
Jade listened as her friend babbled about baby gifts and nursery equipment, glad Sheenagh had allowed herself to be diverted. It was great talking things over with your friends... but not that useful when they held opposing views. Neither Sheenagh nor Vittoria had provided quite what she wanted.
It was later, past nine-thirty in the evening, when someone rapped on the apartment door.
Jade had been lounging on the faded purple velvet sofa staring at a movie, but seeing Geneva Gallo instead of a dramatic scene at sea. She ignored the knock. Guests tried the apartment sometimes, rather than comply with the notice asking them to ring the out-of-hours number if there was an issue. Another knock. She sighed and rolled to her feet. The caller would have to put up with seeing her off-duty self, with crazy hair, her old shorts and faded yellow sleeveless top.
But, when she opened the door, it was Leo Sartori who waited, hands jammed into the pockets of his khaki shorts. He gave her a blithe smile, as if nothing awkward had ever passed between them.
‘Oh.’ She regarded him. ‘After yesterday evening, I assumed we’d avoid each other until you left for Riva.’
‘I did think you’d tell me not to come if I phoned you first,’ he said candidly. ‘But Mum told me what happened with... And I wanted to make sure you’re OK.’
‘I’m OK,’ she answered automatically. Then a hand seemed to squeeze her throat, making her eyes burn and water.
‘Liar,’ he murmured, forehead furrowing. ‘How about I come in for a minute?’
Mutely, she found herself stepping back. When his arm almost brushed against her, it felt like a warm breeze blowing over her skin.
‘How are you doing?’ he asked gently, clearly trying not to penetrate further into the apartment than the small hall.
She gulped. ‘I feel as if I’ve been thrown in a washing machine.’ Her voice emerged as a squeak.
Slowly, he took her hand. Just that. Her hand. But somehow, she swayed forwards and laid her head on his shoulder, her cheek against his cotton T-shirt.
His arms slipped softly around her. ‘What do you want?’ His voice was warm and low. ‘From Geneva, I mean. Mum didn’t seem to know.’
Jade shook her head, feeling the reassuring beat of his heart. ‘I don’t know either. She didn’t ask for money. She didn’t try to excuse herself. She said she needed a job and asked if I would employ her.’
