she told him about that night, how she had tried to get to the phone but Malvolio had been watching. And she told him how she had run through the forest and stopped by the ancient baths.
‘Then I saw the gas station and I was starting to think I had made it. I called you but I could not get through to you. A man offered me a lift to Messina. He was older and I honestly thought that he was being kind, then we got into the cabin and he...’ She cringed at the memory.
‘Did he force you?’
‘No.’ That was the part Bella was most ashamed about. ‘I went to leave but then I saw Malvolio’s car pull up...’
Matteo knew, better than anyone, the fear that would have induced.
‘I could see Malvolio,’ she said, her eyes filling with tears. ‘If he had seen me I would have been taken back or maybe worse. And so I told the man, not here, I gave him a smile and I said we would stop further along the road. He knew I was in a hurry to get away and so we drove for a short distance and then...’
‘And then?’
He had thought there had been many, but that it had been just one made it worse in some ways, for she hadn’t become deadened and her eyes were not vacant, and he could feel how much it must have distressed her.
‘And then,’ Bella said, and she lifted her hand and made a lewd gesture, and Matteo looked at her and didn’t blink. He just thought about her lonely on the edge of the woods, unsafe and scared, and he told her the very truth.
‘I’d have given him a hand job, Bella.’ She tried to smile at his joke but then realised that he was completely serious. ‘If I had been in that situation, I would have given the bastard whatever he wanted just to get away. I’m sorry you had to do it but I’m very proud of you that you did.’
Never, in all the stinging, agonising scenarios that she’d taunted herself with, had Bella imagined the word ‘proud’ being there in Matteo’s response.
‘I’m so proud of you, Bella, for getting out.’
‘Thank you.’ She gave him a little smile but it was a real one.
‘And after Messina?’
‘I got another ride and this time it was all the way through to Rome,’ Bella said. ‘I was terrified but the man was nice. He gave me some of his soup and he chatted about his family. But that other one...’ She shuddered. ‘It was the worst two minutes of my life.’
‘Two minutes!’
‘My mother had taught me a few tricks of the trade and had told me the words to say when you just wanted it over and done.’
‘And they were?’
She was one burning blush, and he could feel the scorch of her cheeks as her mouth came to his ear.
And so she told him her very choice words and she waited for anger, for his appalled response.
‘That’d do it, Bella,’ he said, and to her shock he started to laugh.
‘It was awful...’ she said.
‘I know, but you got it over and done with and you’re here.’ Then he picked up her hand and kissed it slowly and made it beautiful again.
Oh, he was lovely, he took her in his arms, he held her and he told her all the terrible things he had done, all the seamier stuff and the terrible stuff, and now he told her about his scar and how he’d deserved that knife. And then he told her the memory that still taunted him, walking into the bedroom from the shower that morning and seeing the bruise on her face that his hand had made.
Bella looked at him, and she loathed how she had taunted him with it the other day.
‘You saved me from hell that night,’ she said, and she picked up his hand and kissed away the shame as he had done to her, but there was a knock at the door and Bella gave a little yelp when she saw the time.
‘I have to do breakfast...’ She went to get out of bed but he halted her and then the knock came again.
‘Breakfast is here,’ Matteo said. ‘Let’s hope for a less clumsy maid this time.’
‘I have to hide...’
‘Stay there,’ he said. ‘You don’t ever have to hide again.’
She sat there, covered by the sheet, as Alfeo came in.
To his credit he hesitated for just the briefest moment when he saw Bella, before greeting his most esteemed guest. ‘Buongiorno, Signor Santini.’ He glanced over at Bella. ‘Signorina.’
She had no words.
Perhaps used to Matteo’s ways and assuming he might have a guest, just not that particular one, Alfeo had two cups and he offered to pour the coffee.
Matteo nodded.
As Alfeo served the coffee he told Matteo that his helicopter would be ready in half an hour, as he had requested, and then, to Bella’s relief, he left.
‘There goes my job!’
‘You’re in bed with the boss, though.’ Matteo smiled but Bella didn’t return it.
‘You have to go soon.’
‘Actually, I don’t,’ he said. ‘Bella, helicopters don’t fly to Dubai, I’ve postponed that trip. The helicopter is to take me to Bordo Del Cielo.’
‘Why would you go there?’
‘Because that is where I thought you would be this morning,’ he said. ‘By the time I landed in Rome I knew the mistake I had made and we have made so many mistakes, Bella, and though many were not of our making, this one was mine. I wanted to tell you I loved you yesterday but I waited a day too long. I wanted it sorted this morning.’ He leant over her and on the bedside table was a small, highly polished box that, Bella knew, came from the very exclusive jewellers in the hotel. ‘I had them wake up the jeweller last night,’ Matteo said. ‘I was coming to Bordo Del Cielo this morning to ask you to be my wife.’
‘What if the press find out about me?’
‘It wasn’t a very illustrious career, Bella. There’s one sad old man and if he comes forward he’ll have me to deal with. You might have heard—I’m not always this nice.’ Then he looked right into her eyes. ‘And I don’t count because we loved each other, even then.’
‘What about my mother?’
‘You’re proud of her?’ Matteo checked, and Bella nodded.
‘Then they can’t touch you,’ he said.
Bella lay in bed, admiring the ring on her finger, and Matteo called down to cancel the helicopter and for the tray to be removed. They settled in for a day in bed, but as he picked up the newspaper something caught his eye and he recalled Bella’s words.
‘It would take just one beautiful woman to make the headlines wearing one of my gowns.’
Matteo unfolded the paper and there was Sophie and Luka on their wedding day. Somehow, despite it being a local affair, their photo had already made it to the press. It was news indeed that Malvolio’s son had married the daughter of his right-hand man...but Matteo skimmed past all that, it was history, it was past. He was more interested in the future so he read out loud to Bella the more pertinent part.
‘“The bride wore a white chiffon gown by Gatti—an emerging designer who is based in Rome”.’ He turned and smiled as Bella just about fell off the bed.
‘You’ve made it, Bella.’
On her own she had made it, she realised, but now she shared the future with him.
BELLA