nervously over her shoulder Jess handed him the car keys and waited while he unlocked it and levered himself into the driver’s seat. She couldn’t believe she had done this. She had run away to find a man to save her, she had picked the most arrogant man she could find, arrogant even by his own admission, and now she was letting him sort everything out. Her credentials as an independent woman were completely shot.
The car started first go.
She stared at it uncomprehending. ‘But it was dead. The battery was flat. I’m sure it was.’
Rhodri touched his foot to the accelerator. ‘Sounds like she’s fine. Nice little car.’ He glanced up at her, his eyes twinkling. ‘Perhaps you flooded the engine.’
‘It was dead. Completely dead. Not even a light when I turned the key!’ Jess said furiously. ‘No, this is not a stupid woman driver. I know how to start a car!’ Her panic had turned to fury.
Rhodri climbed out, leaving the engine running. ‘Let her run for a bit in case the battery was a bit flat. I never said you were a stupid woman driver, did I?’
‘No, but you thought it!’
‘No. I didn’t.’ He strode towards the house. ‘Now, let’s have a look inside and make sure everything is OK, then we’ll sit and wait for your friendly colleague to show up.’
Two hours passed and there was still no sign of him. Rhodri made them an omelette and they drank a glass of wine, but Jess could barely manage a mouthful. She was becoming more and more uncomfortable and embarrassed.
‘I doubt if he’s coming after all,’ Rhodri said eventually. ‘Look, I’m sorry, but I do have to go,’ he grinned affably, ‘I’ve things to do before I leave.’
‘Of course. I’m so sorry.’ Jess leaped to her feet. ‘And I am so grateful for you coming to sort me out. I’m an idiot!’
He gave a tolerant grin. ‘Not totally. You had got yourself in a bit of a state. Never mind. I suggest you lock yourself in and get a good night’s sleep, then tomorrow you can make some calm decisions about what to do. Don’t let him chase you out of this house, Jess. It’s too nice a place. Just remember to lock that front door. Don’t leave it open for all and sundry to walk in.’ He leaned across before she could dodge back and kissed her on the cheek. ‘My parents will be back in a couple of days. You’ll have a bit more support then. OK? And for goodness’ sake remember to charge up your mobile and report that phone out of order!’ He strode towards the front door.
Jess watched as he backed his car out of the yard. She stood for several minutes after he had disappeared down the lane, listening to the chorus of birds from the wood, then she stepped back inside and firmly closed the door. She wasn’t going to stay and lock herself in. She was leaving now.
Steph put the phone down and turned back into the kitchen where Kim was frying onions and tomatoes. She was frowning. ‘I’ve been trying all evening but there is still no reply from either phone.’
‘Perhaps she’s gone out.’ Kim threw some sliced zucchini into the heavy pan and added more oil. With her dark hair and eyes and her plump figure – a testament to her fondness for her own cooking – Kim looked every inch the Italian mamma in the making for all she had been born in Romford and attended the same college as Jess and Steph. ‘And she’s forgotten to take her mobile.’
‘That’s probably it. I’ve reported the line at Ty Bran. They checked. It is broken.’
‘Well, presumably someone will go and mend it.’ Kim reached for her wine glass and took a sip before turning her attention back to the sauce. ‘So, you can stop worrying, Steph. Jess is a big girl. She doesn’t need you checking up on her all the time. In fact you never have before, so why now?’
Steph shook her head wearily. ‘I don’t know. I’ve got a strange feeling, that’s all.’
‘What sort of strange feeling?’ Wooden spoon in hand, Kim paused in her stirring to gaze at her friend’s face. ‘You two aren’t twins, are you?’
‘You know we’re not!’
‘Then stop worrying. Go and see to our guests. Make sure everyone has got a drink. If you really want to know what is happening with Jess ask Carmella. She reads the cards. You’ll find a deck in Stefano’s old bureau.’
Steph wandered through the apartment towards the front door. From the grand reception room she could hear the sound of voices. Kim’s penchant for cooking frequently led to these impromptu parties where her guests marvelled at the talent of their English hostess who could cook Italian food better than any of them.
Steph resisted the urge to mention the cards, but as they sat in the salotto later savouring their dolci and coffee Kim brought the subject up again.
‘Steph needs some info about her sister, Carmella. Would you read the cards for her? Tell us what is happening over there in Wales?’ She levered herself out of the deep sofa and went to the bureau, rummaging around in the drawers.
There was a general murmur of interest from the other guests at the suggestion as she drew out the small box she had been looking for.
Carmella, a tall, elegant woman in her forties, held out her hand languidly and took the box. ‘I haven’t seen these since Stefano died. Do you remember how often we would read them?’ She smiled at Kim, raising one of her startlingly black, fly away eyebrows.
Kim nodded, suddenly wistful. ‘He loved to watch you do it, but he would never let you do a reading for him. Perhaps if you had –’
‘No!’ Carmella started shuffling the deck. ‘No, don’t think of that. What was to be, was to be.’ She flicked her dark hair out of her eyes and leaned forward to take a puff from the cigarette lying in the onyx ashtray near her coffee cup. ‘Now, let me see what the cards have to say. This is about your sister, Steph?’
Steph nodded.
‘Tell me her name.’
‘Jess.’
‘And do you have anything of hers with you? Perhaps a letter? A piece of jewellery to make the connection.’
Steph thought for a moment. ‘I have a scarf of hers. I liked it so much she gave it to me.’
‘That is good. Get it.’
Steph watched amused as Carmella cut the pack and then laid out the cards on the coffee table. It was years since she had seen anyone read the tarot. Probably not since she had been a student and done it herself. Carmella did it with superb style, she had to give her that. She lay back in her chair and sipped her coffee, watching as Carmella turned up the first card, Jess’s scarf lying on her knee, a splash of emerald against the black of the woman’s skirt.
‘Ah, il fante di denari. The page of coins; pentacles you call them, si? This is Jess. A page can represent a woman, you know that?’ She glanced round. Turning back to the table she ran her
