‘Forget about it,’ he said, his tone softening. ‘I should not have shouted at you. I am sorry. Put it down to overwork and jet lag. God knows I did not sleep a wink on the plane.’
‘It’s fine…really…I understand…it’s a difficult time…’
There was a small tight silence.
‘I am glad you were there for him when he died,’ Rafaele said in a gruff tone. ‘In spite of everything I am glad someone was there…’
‘He was a good man, Signore… I mean, Rafaele,’ she said. ‘I think deep down he was a good man who had simply lost his way.’
He gave her a somewhat rueful smile. ‘I am starting to think you make a point of seeing the good in everyone, Emma March. Is that something you learnt in your training or somewhere else?’
‘No one is completely bad, Rafaele. We all have our stories, the history of what makes us the people we are. I am sure your father had his. It is a shame he didn’t share his with you so you could understand the demons he had to wrestle with.’
‘My father was not the sort of man to share anything with his family,’ he said. ‘He deplored weakness in others so I cannot imagine him ever getting to the point of confessing any of his own.’
‘Were you ever close to him?’ Emma asked.
His expression became shuttered again. ‘He was not comfortable with small children, or even older ones when it comes to that.’
‘What about your younger brother?’
His eyes turned to fathomless black. ‘Has anyone ever told you that you ask too many questions?’
‘I’m sorry…I just thought it might help to talk about—’
‘Well, it does not help, Miss March.’ He cut her off brusquely. ‘And in future I would appreciate it if you would refrain from putting your nose where it is not wanted. Digging up the past serves no purpose. My father is dead and I am sorry if it offends your sensibilities, but I for one could not be happier.’
Emma stood in silence as he strode out of the room, the echo of his embittered words ringing in her ears long after his car had roared out of the villa grounds and faded into the distance.
Emma’s sister Simone called again not long after Emma had gone to bed. She sat up against the pillows and listened as Simone tearfully informed her how she had tried to apply for a personal loan only to find out there was a black mark against her credit rating. On further investigation Simone had found out her ex-partner had fuelled his cocaine habit by applying for various loans, using her as guarantor. Emma had listened in horror as Simone had described a visit late at night from a loan shark Brendan had used. The man had threatened Simone and her daughter, making it more than clear that if the money was not repaid within a week there would be unpleasant repercussions.
‘I don’t know what to do, Emma,’ Simone sobbed. ‘I’m so scared. When I picked up Chelsea from school I was sure we were being followed.’
‘Have you called the police?’ Emma asked, her heart thumping in alarm.
‘I can’t do that,’ Simone said. ‘You know how they treated me the last time when they came looking for Brendan. They thought I was lying about not knowing where he was or that he was using drugs. They made me feel like a criminal too.’
Emma chewed at her lip. Simone had always had it tough. In the past she had been there so many times for Emma, protecting her from one or both of their parents’ drug-fuelled rages until finally the authorities had stepped in and placed both girls in foster homes. And then at the age of nineteen Simone had finally found happiness with David Harrison, but he had been killed in a motorcycle accident just six weeks after Chelsea had been born.
‘Listen, Simone, I have a plan.’ Emma took a shaky breath and continued, ‘It turns out the man I was nursing left me quite a bit of money in his will. It might take a few days to get it to you, but if you can tell this man Brendan owes the money to that you will settle the debt, perhaps things will calm down until you get some legal advice.’
‘But, Emma, it’s such a lot of money,’ Simone said in anguish. ‘I’ll never be able to repay you, even if I do manage to take Brendan to court over this. It’s not as if he’s ever going to have any money to pay the legal fees, let alone the debt, even if the police do manage to track him down and arrest him.’
‘I don’t want to be repaid, Simone. I just want you and Chelsea to be safe,’ Emma insisted. ‘If things go according to plan you’ll have enough money to relocate to another suburb or even to another state and make a fresh start.’
‘Oh, Emma, that would be a dream come true,’ Simone choked. ‘I hate this place. It reminds me of our childhood, living with Mum and Dad stoned out of their brains all the time. I can’t believe I didn’t see it in Brendan. He was always so charming and loving. How could I have got it so wrong?’
‘It’s not your fault, Simone,’ Emma said. ‘You know what drugs do to people. They turn them into someone else. You have to move on for Chelsea’s sake. It’s not safe for her to be in such an environment.’
‘You’re right,’ Simone said. ‘If Dave was still alive he’d be so ashamed of me for subjecting Chelsea to this.’
‘Honey, don’t be so hard on yourself,’ Emma said. ‘I know how tough things have been for you. No one should have to deal with the stuff you’ve had to deal with. Just be strong, this will all go away and you’ll never have to worry again.’
‘I don’t know how to thank you,’ Simone said. ‘I really don’t know what Chelsea and I would do without you.’
Emma felt a little guilty not telling her sister the truth about how she was going about getting the money, but she reasoned that Simone had enough to worry about for the time being. If she were to tell Simone she was about to marry a man she had only met that morning, her sister would think she had gone mad.
But then maybe I have, Emma thought as Rafaele’s handsome features came to mind. She gave the pillow a thump and settled back down but it was ages before she could relax enough to sleep…
Emma’s eyes sprang open as the front door slammed. She heard Rafaele move about the villa with no attempt to keep the noise down, as if he couldn’t care less about disturbing her, no doubt because he considered her an interloper in his family home.
She heard the sound of a glass shattering in the lounge room downstairs and then a course expletive cut through the still night air. She waited a few minutes, listening as various cupboards and drawers were opened and slammed shut as he began hunting through the main bathroom.
‘Where the hell is the first-aid kit?’ Rafaele’s voice roared from the foot of the sweeping staircase.
Emma threw back the covers and, reaching for her bathrobe, tied it securely around her waist and came out on the third-floor landing. ‘What’s wrong?’ she asked, looking down at him. ‘Have you cut yourself?’
He swayed slightly on his feet as he held up his right hand wrapped in a hand towel. ‘Yes, I have, as a matter of fact. Want to kiss it better, pretty Emma?’
She frowned at him as she came down the stairs. ‘Have you been drinking?’ she asked in a reproachful tone.
He gave her a sinful smile. ‘So what if I have?’
She stood three steps above him to meet him eye to eye. ‘Did you drive home in this state?’
He swayed towards her, the strong fumes of brandy wafting over her face. ‘No, I caught a cab,’ he said. ‘Wasn’t that sensible of me?’
‘It’s not sensible to drink to excess even if you’re not planning to be behind the wheel of a car,’ she said. ‘Let me look at your hand.’
He held it out to her and she gently peeled back the towel to find a gash near the base of