Jocelyn.’ Simon answered for him. ‘Jocelyn has done enough damage.’
There was a moment of complete silence. Then Sarah started to laugh.
I cornered Davina in her bathroom. It was an amazing place of ornate marble and gold illuminated now by cruel hidden lights. She looked haggard as she bathed her eyes. ‘What the hell is going on here?’ I perched on the edge of the bath. ‘What has happened to you, Davina?’
She looked up at me, her face wet. ‘Did you know that Sarah woman used to be Simon’s fancy piece?’
I nodded.
‘Maggie’s a cow. You know it was she who asked her here. I detest her.’ She had drunk more than usual and her face beneath the heavy streaked layer of make up was flushed.
Privately I agreed with her. ‘You haven’t answered me, Davina. What is going on here?’
She shrugged. ‘What do I care? Simon never tells me anything. I just have to sign things; and entertain his guests.’ She was peering into the mirror now, her shadowed eyes expressionless. ‘And you’d better mind your own business. Don’t tangle with Simon.’
‘How long has it been like this?’ My sympathy for her had returned and I wanted to touch her, to comfort her. But I was not prepared to risk another rejection. She stared down at the mosaic floor.
‘Ever since we married. I’ve wanted to see you often but I didn’t dare ask you. I didn’t want you to see what I had become. I could bear the thought of you and Tim as long as you were unhappy. It meant you were no better off than me. You see what a horrible person I am?’
There was a long pause. I closed my eyes wearily. ‘And when you saw we were happy, you thought you’d take him for yourself, is that it?’ I asked at last.
‘You’re my sister. I thought …’ She stopped in mid sentence. Then she turned to face me. ‘Oh Celia, you shouldn’t have come.’ And she began to cry.
Tim went into our room ahead of me. He didn’t turn on the light. As I closed the door he came up to me and put his arms around me in the dark.
‘Celia. What is it? What’s wrong?’
‘I talked to Davina. She thinks we ought to go. Can we, Tim? Please. Tomorrow. I know it’s a disappointment but you’ll get work from other people. You’re good. We don’t need to rely on Simon for any commissions.’
I felt him tense. He was stroking my hair gently. ‘Celia, you can go if you want to, darling. But I can’t. Don’t you see?’
The room was very dark. The maid had pulled the curtains across the windows when she came in to turn down the bed and it was stifling. I pulled away from him wordlessly and went to open them. Outside the balcony was black. The brilliant moonlight flooded past the villa and focused on the lawn. The fountain was still playing.
‘Do you love her?’ I asked softly. I leaned on the stone balustrade and looked down.
‘Who?’ I felt the anger in him, the resentment which always came when I questioned him and I knew I could not fight it this time. What was the point? Tim came out onto the balcony beside me. ‘Don’t run away, Celia. I’m beginning to think you must be paranoid or something. Who do you think I’m having an affair with this time?’
‘Davina.’ I could hardly bring myself to say the name.
‘Oh for God’s sake. It’s always the same, isn’t it? The moment I show interest in a woman you imagine I’ve fallen into bed with her. What’s the matter with you?’
What indeed? How could I explain to him how much I loved him; how much I feared to lose him; how much I had looked forward to these summer months in Italy as a second honeymoon? And now I saw the whole frail structure of my dream collapsing.
‘You really mean it, Tim? You would stay here and let me go home alone?’ I didn’t look at him. Below in the garden I saw a small glow in the darkness and I thought it must be a firefly. Then I realized it was a cigarette. There was someone walking slowly in the shadows of the trees.
‘I’ve come here to work, Celia. And it’s important that I do. More important than you know. Simon told me today that he is prepared to recommend me for a commission to do heads of all the members of a board he’s on. It means security and freedom to work without worrying for a while; without you having to go back to that job. I’m not going to blow it, Celia, even if it means we can’t be together. I don’t want you to go. It’s up to you.’
He turned and vanished back into the bedroom. A moment later I heard the door slam.
I could feel the hot tears burning my cheeks and I let them fell unchecked. The french doors below the balcony opened and someone stepped out onto the terrace. I knew it must be Tim. He would go to his improvised studio and work through the night, returning to fall into bed beside me at dawn. It had happened too often before after we had quarrelled. I did not call out to him. What was the point? He stepped out of the shadows of the terrace onto the grass and I saw him clearly walking towards the fountain. A figure detached itself from the shadows and joined him. A woman. The moonlight had washed the colour from her dress but I knew it was my sister. I watched as they stood talking then slowly they began to move, not towards the cottage but around the side of the house out of sight. Two minutes later I heard the sound of a car engine and the crunch of its tyres on the gravel of the long poplar-lined drive. Then there was silence.
I undressed and lay down on the bed, but my mind would not rest. I could not sleep and after a while I gave up trying. I rose and slipped on a thin sweater and some jeans.
The villa was in darkness save where moonlight slid through the windows on the staircase. I peered out. Our car had vanished from its place beneath the mulberry tree beside the wall. Behind me on the landing the clock chimed three. Tim had left the french windows open and I slipped out onto the terrace. I avoided the bright moonlight, following the dark shadows beneath the trees.
The cottage was in darkness, but the door was unlocked and I slipped in and at last allowed myself to turn on a light. The room was empty but for a large table and a couple of chairs. I recognized all the paraphernalia we had brought with us in the car. The plastic sacks of clay and plaster, the wire for armatures, the scalpels, the spatulas, the callipers and sketch books. Tim’s overalls hung on the back of the door and the room already had the cold oily smell of the clay. On the table I could see the outline of the head beneath its cloth and I moved over to uncover it.
He had made a lot of progress. Davina stared out at me, her lips enigmatically smiling, her eyes still a blind sightless sketch in the glistening clay. I stared at it for a long time, then I covered it again and moved across to the stairs. The cottage had only one bedroom and it was fully furnished. The bed had been slept in. Beside it the bathroom was also fully equipped with toiletries and cosmetics. I unscrewed a bottle of cologne and sniffed it. It was spicy and rather strong. I did not recognize it.
A bell pealed in the silence and I froze. Then I realized it was the telephone beside the bed next door. I tiptoed across and hesitated as it rang. Then cautiously I lifted the receiver. A voice was talking in fast Italian on the other end and I realized suddenly that it was an extension from the main house. I was about to replace it when a second voice cut in. It was Simon and he sounded once more very angry. Holding my breath I sat gingerly on the bed and listened.
They were speaking in English now. ‘I told you not to
