with just one truth. He had promised his dying friend it would be so.
So he would make it happen.
‘WHAT is he doing here?’ Consuelo demanded as he strode along the path like a man with the demons of hell after him. ‘Why did he have to come?’
Gabriella skipped a step to keep up with him. ‘Raoul is an old family friend. Of course he would be here.’
‘But the way he was touching you—like he owned you. Like he meant something to you. You let him touch you!’
‘We grew up together, Consuelo. Our two families were practically inseparable, at least until I was twelve years of age. The last time I saw him was at our parents’ funerals. Of course there is some feeling between us. He is like a brother to me.’
He looked across at her suddenly, his eyes wild and frantic, and she wondered what else must be troubling him for him to overreact in this way. ‘And that’s all he is to you?’
‘But of course,’ she said, wanting to soothe, but mostly because there was nothing else she could say, even if she might so foolishly have once dreamed of more.
He wrapped his arm around her shoulders and tugged her close in to his body. She needed to be hugged but she wondered why this contact didn’t stir her blood or warm her as Raoul’s touch had done. Perhaps because she saw more of him, or because he was more familiar to her, more comfortable to be around. She shouldn’t encourage him—she knew he wanted more out of their relationship than she could commit to right now—but today she was glad to have someone to hold on to, even if his touch didn’t stir her like another’s …
She shuddered now with the memory of it, of how just the gentle touch of Raoul’s fingertips had set her blood fizzing. How was that possible—a man she hadn’t met other than in her dreams for so many years? Or had she just wished and hoped for it so much, she’d believed it had happened?
But then he’d always had that impact on her. He’d always seemed larger than life, and she’d always been drawn to his dark mystery. Why should it be any different now, simply because a dozen years had passed?
‘How do you know Raoul?’ she asked, curious as he hastened her towards the waiting car. ‘Is he one of the foundation’s benefactors?’
He laughed, a short, derisive laugh. ‘Him? No, he would not give to a charity such as ours, not even to save the lives of sick children.’
‘Why do you say that? Have you ever asked him?’
‘I do not bother with his sort. His kind have no heart.’
‘No, Consuelo,’ she protested, remembering back, thinking that Raoul had had the biggest heart of anyone she knew. Nothing had been too much trouble for him back then, nothing too much effort for his family and hers. And when the police had called that fateful evening with the shocking news it had been Raoul who had cradled her, letting her cry her eyes out, offering her the remnants of his own shattered heart. ‘That cannot be right.’
‘Then you do not know him very well, after all. Come,’ he said, opening her car door so she could precede him into the vehicle. ‘Forget Raoul; there are more important things to think about right now.’ He tapped the waiting driver on the shoulder to let him know they were ready. ‘Like arranging for your things to be moved from the house into my apartment. Given you’re on leave, it would be the perfect time.’
She blinked, momentarily stunned. Where had that come from? ‘What are you talking about?’
But he was engrossed in the traffic, scanning it, almost as if he was looking for someone. Raoul? Surely he was a long way behind. And then he turned back to her, smiling, and she wondered if she’d imagined his nervousness. ‘Come on, darling. Now that your grandfather’s gone, there’s no reason why we should live apart any longer.’
‘We haven’t talked about this.’
He took her hand in one of his, patted it with the other. ‘Come, Gabby, you know as well as I do that half the reason you haven’t moved in already is because your grandfather needed you. Now there is no reason for us to be apart. Now it is time you were looked after the way you should be. The way I want to look after you.’
She shook her head. ‘Consuelo …’
‘Of course, I can always move in with you, but I thought you might prefer a fresh start somewhere else, somewhere without the memories.’
‘I like where I live,’ she said, stiffening and wondering what she had said or done to make him think she was ready to move in with him. ‘And my grandfather is barely cold in his grave. I would actually prefer not to have to deal with this today.’
He sighed and lifted her hand to his lips, although his eyes lacked any warmth to go with it. ‘I’m sorry, Gabby. I’m rushing you. Of course we can talk later.’
Much later, she thought, clutching her coat at her neck and wondering what it was that was throwing Consuelo so off-kilter today; he was so very anxious as he resumed his busy scanning of the traffic.
They were almost at the hotel when Consuelo’s phone buzzed again. He pulled it from his pocket and held it to his ear, and Gabriella looked across, wondering if it was Phillipa again wanting to know how far away they were. But even as she watched the colour drained from Consuelo’s face.
‘Mierda!’ he said, before he snapped it off and shoved it away, tapping the driver on the shoulder. ‘Stop here. Let me out here.’
‘Consuelo, what’s wrong?’ she asked as the driver cut across two lanes of traffic, to the squeal of tyres and the blare of horns, to double park on the side of the road. ‘Who was that?’
But he was already climbing out. ‘A problem at the office. I have to go.’ And then he slammed the door and disappeared into the crowd.
* * *
The priest’s words were moving, the condolences she received from old friends and associates heartfelt, and Gabriella felt one kind of peace descend on her soul. Her grandfather had been much loved by all who had known him, had touched so many lives, and it was clear that it wasn’t just her who would be left with an Umberto-sized hole in her heart.
But now the wake was winding down and she felt suddenly deflated with it. She’d turned her phone on to silent, hoping that she might get some news from Consuelo, some kind of explanation, but there had been no messages explaining his sudden disappearance or when he might join her. She was beginning to think he wouldn’t make it at all.
And maybe she could have lived with that if Raoul had bothered to turn up like he’d promised. She’d hoped he’d soon follow them from the cemetery. From the very first minute she’d stepped into the hotel’s plush reception-room, she’d been anticipating his arrival, scanning the room for a hint of his broad, dark-clad shoulders or a glimpse of his blue-black hair. She longed for the dark solidity of his presence. She longed for the comfort she’d found in it at the cemetery, a comfort she yearned for now.
He’d promised he’d come. She ached with wanting him to come. So where was he?
