Sheenagh lent in and hugged her, enveloping her in her familiar perfume. ‘Leo asked once if I was jealous. I denied it, but maybe I was. I’m over that selfishness now and I hope it works out for you.’
Jade returned the hug, glad that Sheenagh seemed to be making an effort to paper over the cracks that had appeared in their friendship. She may have gained a mother and two sisters this summer, but, despite the age gap between them, this woman was one of her oldest friends.
Chapter Twenty-Two
By Sunday afternoon, Jade could stand the silence from Geneva no longer.
She’d sent outstanding wages to her bank account, but contact between them snapping like a thread – as Gran had always feared with Joey – made her feel weirdly destabilised. She noted Geneva’s address from the employment records, changed into shorts and a T-shirt, and, as the electric bike stand in Piazza Cavour was annoyingly empty, set out on foot in the sunlight that had returned to Como as if the storm had never been.
Geneva’s apartment block proved to be a half-hour away, in one of the more affordable areas at the far end of Via Milano, well beyond Mary Smith’s office and the church of San Bartolomeo. The exterior was a flaking grey and as there was no entry system, Jade was able to open a faded blue door and walk up to the third floor. There, she knocked at flat 12 and faced the peephole.
No answer.
Prepared for this, she’d brought a note.
Geneva, we need to talk. Please! Jade.
Stooping, she slipped it beneath the door.
Catching a shuffle from within the apartment, she held her breath.
And waited.
After another minute, the door swung inwards and Geneva regarded her gravely. Her grey curls hung down over a loose mud-coloured T-shirt, unflattering and old. Her feet were bare.
Jade’s heart pattered, but her smile was calm. ‘I’ve come to apologise. The guest knows now who stole the money. I shouldn’t have let you leave as if I thought you guilty.’ Then, honestly, she added, ‘I didn’t know what to think.’
Geneva nodded, the ghost of a smile in her eyes. ‘I have a new job anyway.’ Rather than invite Jade in, she angled the door to prevent her seeing more than a metre of beige tiles and off-white walls.
Jade shifted. ‘Do you need a reference? I can provide one.’
Geneva shook her head. ‘I don’t think so, thank you.’ But her gaze slid left, along the bare concrete landing.
Cold fingers of suspicion crept up Jade’s spine. People were meant to look left when lying, weren’t they? ‘Did you... are you just saying you have a job to make me feel better?’
Without admitting it was a fib, Geneva sagged against the door jamb, her eyes flat and unhappy. ‘Could we... meet for coffee again?’
Before Jade could answer, she was surprised by the irritable shout of a male voice from within the apartment. ‘Who is it? Shut the door on them, Geneva.’
Jade’s eyes flew wide. ‘I didn’t realise you had a...’ She halted, realising that Geneva had previously said she had no husband. Not that there was no man in her life. Were he and Geneva a couple? Or was she the man’s lodger? He’d sounded too bossy to be only a housemate. At least Geneva looked resigned at his grouchiness, rather than frightened.
Tossing a glance over her shoulder, Geneva muttered, ‘I’ll contact you.’ And then, urgently, ‘I should have chosen you instead of Jarno, but your grandparents, they were waiting to scoop you into their safe, comfortable home.’ And she closed the door.
Jade remained rooted to the spot for several seconds, her mother’s words still hanging in the air. Slowly she turned away, thoughts whirling.That was out of the blue. Where had that come from? Did she really... say that?To the echo of her footsteps on the concrete stairs, she trod back down to the street, then navigated the busy pavements beside the traffic until she could enter the city walls where the tall, square, stone tower of Porta Torre reached up into a blue-and-white sky.
I should have chosen you instead of Jarno.
Suddenly, there were tears on her cheeks.Geneva had said she’d wanted Jade.She’d let herself be pushed into a decision she regretted. Jadehadbeen wanted. Shehadn’tbeen abandoned. Geneva had thought she’d been giving her baby the best life she could.
Jade stopped, fighting the urge to spin on her heel and race back and make Geneva say it again.
Instead, she searched her pockets fruitlessly for tissues before filching several paper napkins from the table of a nearby café, calling apologies and pointing to her tears when a young waiter gave her a baleful glare. Expression softening, he handed her several more napkins so she could dry her eyes and blow her nose. ‘Grazie, grazie.’ Embarrassed, she knew people must be staring at her weeping in the street.
Once she was no longer blinded by tears, she tried phoning Geneva. When she received no answer, she sent a text.
Tutto ok con quell’uomo? Sembrava scontroso. Are you OK with that man? He sounded grumpy.
Geneva texted back.
