An Inconvenient Love (Crimson Romance) Read online

  He poured the drinks while he struggled to come up with some way to comfort his wife. Should he encourage her to talk or simply hold her so she knew he was there for her? He wasn’t equipped to deal with such deep emotional trauma. This wasn’t something that could be fixed with a hammer and nails or a bridging loan. Being a businessman now wasn’t going to help. He needed to be a husband.

  Glancing at her reflection in the mirror over the fireplace, he could almost see Sophia shrinking back within herself. Was her independence a protection, a way to shield herself from further hurt? Maybe it wasn’t that she didn’t want him in her life. Perhaps she was afraid to let him in because she’d been hurt by someone close to her before. Any progress they’d made in their relationship, the understanding, the partnership would all disappear if he failed her now. He took a deep breath and got ready to fight for their future.

  • • •

  Sophia sank into the overstuffed sofa, breathing a little easier now that she was home. Taking the brandy snifter Luca offered her, she motioned for him to sit next to her. She wanted his arms around her, to feel the safety of his embrace. As if sensing her need, he pulled her against him, rubbing her arm up and down.

  The amber liquid burned as it went down her throat before settling in her stomach. Comforting warmth infused her whole body. After a couple of sips, she felt able to unclench her fist without her body starting to shake again.

  “I’m so sorry I spoiled our honeymoon,” she said at last, her voice hesitant and unsteady.

  “I am not worried about that,” Luca replied. “I am worried about you. Can you tell me what happened?”

  Her heart beat faster. He’d left the beautiful hotel without any questions, not even asking why. Not considering her a fool for getting upset so easily.

  “I think I’d better start at the beginning … with my family,” she began. She’d tried so hard to distance herself from her past, yet it always caught up with her. Even 900 kilometers away it found her, threatening to destroy her current life. She took a deep breath.

  “My parents, Charlie and Janice, married young. My dad worked as a bricklayer and my mum had come down from Manchester to pursue her dreams of being an actress in the theater. They met at a football match. They were cheering for opposite teams but were seated next to each other. By the end of the game, they were madly in love and Dad for once didn’t care that his team lost.

  “Neither of their families were particularly pleased with the marriage, and I don’t remember ever seeing my grandparents. My parents didn’t have much, only their dreams. Mum was still auditioning for parts in various productions and Dad had ideas of running his own construction company.” If she told her story as though it had happened to someone else, she could keep it together. Some days, especially since she started living in Italy, it almost felt like it was someone else’s life. She paused, trying to put her jumbled thoughts in order.

  “After a few years, my brother Ben came along, followed within a year by my second brother, Paul. Shortly after Paul was born, my dad had an accident at work. He fell off some scaffolding and broke his hips and both legs. For a while they weren’t sure he’d be able to walk again. He managed that, but couldn’t work anymore as a brickie. I guess it was then that Mum realized she would never be an actress and now she had to support her family. With no real training or experience, so took whatever jobs she could get.

  “I was born when Paul was three years old. By this time the family was living mostly on social benefit. My dad practically lived at the pub or at football matches. He always found money to attend the games. Sometimes he would do some work to make a little extra to go to the away matches, all the while collecting the dole. My mum worked part time at the local grocery store and did a few cleaning jobs.

  “When I was three, my sister Sarah was born and two years later James came along. We were five children living in a three-bed council flat in north London. The lift always smelled of pee, and the stairwell was the location of daily drug deals.” She rubbed her eyes, trying to rid herself of the images in her head. Taking another sip of the brandy, she hoped its warmth would burn away the emptiness inside.

  “By the time James was born, my dad had almost completely opted out of family life. When he was home he was watching the telly, or more usually fast asleep in front of it. As soon as Mum came home from work, he was off to the pub. I used to lie awake at night, waiting to hear the door open and close, to know he was home safe before I could fall asleep. Dad never shouted; he never hit us. He just ignored our existence—quite a feat in a small flat with five children.

  “Mum tried to be a good parent, but she was always tired. And looking back now, I realize, drained by disappointment. She’d make us tea—fish fingers and chips or something out of a can. Mum didn’t really cook, which is why I never learned. As soon as Ben was old enough to look after us, she, too, went out most evenings, over to her sister’s house a few streets away, coming home in time to tuck us into bed, most nights.”

  “Why didn’t your aunt come over to your place if she lived so close?” Luca looked into her eyes, as if to reassure her, to show his concern.

  “My aunt didn’t like children. She never married and preferred the quiet life; she was a bookkeeper for a local business. Auntie had a nice little terraced house and hated coming to the ‘nasty flat’ as she called it.” Sophia took a deep breath and continued with her story.

  “Ben, my oldest brother, was wonderful. He was only a child himself, yet he helped us younger ones with our homework. He taught James to read. He would put on puppet shows behind the sofa using Dad’s socks and an oven mitt. He always had a smile and knew how to cheer us up. Most of the boys his age were down the park playing football; Ben was at home reading us stories using funny voices for the characters.” She smiled at the memories, but there were tears in her eyes. Luca ran his hand down her hair, offering her comfort.

  “If something exciting happened at school, or if we did well on a test, it was Ben we told, not our parents. All our hopes and dreams or daily disappointments we laid at Ben’s door. He was so young for such responsibility, yet he never complained. He never told us to get lost or find someone else to talk to. He would’ve been such an amazing dad.” Her voice caught on the last sentence. Telling Luca was harder than she’d expected. She couldn’t pretend her past didn’t matter when his strong arms were around her, providing the security she’d so desperately needed then. The comfort she so desperately needed now. If he pulled away, she’d fall apart. And she wasn’t sure she could put the pieces back together again.

  Instead, Luca lifted her so she was sitting across his lap. She put her empty brandy snifter down on the coffee table and leaned back. The steady beat of his heart against her ear, and the warmth of his body against hers, gave her the strength to continue.

  “Paul was a bit rebellious. He didn’t like sitting at home with a ‘bunch of babies,’ as he used to call us. He would go and hang out with his friends, quite often getting in trouble. But he always managed to slip in the door minutes before Mum came home, pretending he’d been there the whole time. Paul was very clever, and though he never seemed to do any homework or studying he always had good grades, so Mum and Dad thought nothing was wrong.

  “I was the cleaner. I used to clean the house spotless so Mum wouldn’t have to do it when she came home. I hoped it would make her happy and make her want to stay with us. I was always annoyed at the other children for making a mess. Paul used to call me uptight. I guess it was my way with coping. At least my surroundings could be clean, neat, tidy, orderly, even if my life was a mess.

  “Sarah cried a lot, always whining and complaining. I think she was starved for affection. That’s probably why, even today, if a man shows any interest in her, she immediately falls in love with him. She’s always lurching from one bad relationship into another.” Despite being only three years apart, she’d never felt very close to her sister. They were polar opposites in temperament. She’d always
thought Sarah’s sensitivity a weakness. Now, however, having had a taste of Luca’s tenderness, she could understand her sister a little more.

  “James, my younger brother, was beautiful. He had curly, blonde hair and bright blue eyes and dimples when he smiled, which was often. People used to stop in the street when we walked by and comment on what a beautiful child he was.” Her voice broke and she took a deep, shuddering breath.

  “I don’t think I’ll ever complain again about being an only child,” Luca commented.

  “Oh, it wasn’t all bad. I do have some happy childhood memories. Paul once stole ten pounds out of his friend’s mother’s purse. But then he felt guilty for doing it. So rather than buy smokes, which had been his intention, we went to the park and he bought us all chips and ice cream.” She smiled genuinely for the first time since meeting Kathy. Getting all this off her chest made her heart was a little lighter. Luca held her tightly, one hand rubbing her back in a comforting gesture. Maybe he wouldn’t be put off by her past, consider her unworthy.

  “Things went okay for a couple of years. We all did pretty well in school. Paul got selected for the track team and so had something more positive to focus his energies on. Although Mum and Dad were still kind of living their own lives, the rest of us were close-knit and we got on as best we could. We were five children living in a small space, so of course there were fights. Yet somehow, instinctively I guess, we all knew we had to stick together to survive.” She took a deep breath and barely whispered the words. “But when things went bad, they went bad very quick.”

  Chapter 11

  Sophia’s shudder went straight through Luca. Her pain became his. It was the first time he was truly connected to his wife, outside of the bedroom. The depth of his desire to protect her surprised him. He hadn’t realized how much he wanted her to need him, to rely on him, to trust him. He pulled her closer, and she rested her head on his chest for a moment.

  “You do not have to tell me more, tesoro mio.”

  “No, I want you to know it all. I just need a minute.”

  She pulled out of his arms and paced the room, obviously too emotional to sit still. She paused by the fireplace mantel and rearranged the photos symmetrically. Finally, she turned toward him, but her eyes didn’t meet his. She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. He knew their relationship would never progress unless she unburdened herself—trusted him with her secret. But it was hard to watch her build her walls again.

  Sophia took a deep breath as though bracing herself for rejection. “When Ben was seventeen, he fell in love with a girl at school. She was pretty but vain. Ben had spent the last five years looking after his younger siblings rather than playing football or hanging out with his peers, so he was a bit scrawny and quiet. This girl didn’t appreciate his sensitive nature or the incredible responsibility he’d shouldered without complaint. She rejected him outright, even mocking his attempts to win her heart. Worse, she made him the laughingstock of the school. Poor Ben, he was so dejected.” Sophia’s voice was soft and distant, lost in the past.

  “Was it the woman from Lake Como?” He was trying to work out where she fit into the story and why she had caused so much panic in Sophia, not once but twice.

  “No, I can’t even remember this girl’s name, and I don’t think I ever met her. But Ben couldn’t get over her. He followed her around the school and watched her from a distance everywhere she went. I guess finally he got the message that it was never going to happen. One day I came home from school to find Ben lying on the floor of the flat, unconscious. I couldn’t rouse him and was about to call for an ambulance when Paul came home. He’d seen it before and knew what to do. Ben had passed out from a drug overdose. When he came around, he begged us not to tell anyone. He said it had been a one-off thing and he’d learned his lesson and would never do drugs again … but he did.”

  Luca wanted to go to her, to take her in his arms, yet he sensed that she needed to stand alone to tell him. To exorcise whatever demons still haunted her by wandering about the room. She moved over to the window. Her face was reflected in the glass, her eyes lifeless, caught up in the memories. She cleared her throat and continued.

  “Ben started stealing, first from home, selling anything worth anything to get money for drugs—then from our neighbors and friends, the local shops. Paul and I tried to talk to him, but I was thirteen and Paul was sixteen. Ben had been acting like our parent for so long, he didn’t think he needed to listen to us. I think Mum knew something was wrong, although she never said anything. About six months after I found Ben on the floor from the overdose, the doorbell rang at six in the morning.

  “I knew it was the police—I thought they’d come to arrest Ben for stealing, and in a way I was relieved. I thought then maybe he would be able to get the help he desperately needed.

  “I answered the door and sure enough there were two police officers there. But instead of asking for Ben, they asked for Mum and Dad. I woke them up and then listened at the sitting room door as they told my parents that Ben had been found dead in a known drug house. Mum started crying … Dad couldn’t believe it, he had no idea that Ben had been into drugs. They left shortly after to identify the body. My aunt came and stayed with us while they were gone. I don’t think any one of us said a single word until they returned and confirmed the news. It was like being in a nightmare, where you can’t speak, can’t scream … but there was no waking up from this bad dream.”

  Sophia’s voice was quieter now and she returned to the fireplace, as though seeking out its warmth even though it wasn’t on. She wrapped her arms around herself and paused for a moment. He had to stop himself from getting off the sofa and pulling her down beside him—she seemed so distant, so lost. He ached for her.

  “I don’t remember the funeral, except feeling numb. Ben was the one I told when I was happy, sad, scared. People kept telling me I should cry, but I couldn’t. There was nobody there anymore to hold me and tell me it was going to get better.”

  Sophia shrugged, but her eyes were bleak.

  “For a few months after Ben’s death, Mum and Dad actually spent some time with us children. I think Dad even went on a school trip with James. Although I missed Ben dreadfully, it looked like things had at least changed for the better in our family. However, within six months it was back to normal. Dad was out at the pub, or with his mates, and Mum was either at work or over at Auntie’s house. Paul tried to take Ben’s place, but he didn’t have the same temperament. Ben had always been gentle and kind, Paul was more of a hothead. He had no patience, especially for Sarah, who cried even more now that Ben was gone.

  “Before long Paul was away from home as much as Dad and Mum. He was missing from school, too. Soon it was apparent he’d joined a gang. I tried to talk to him … he said he was attempting to find out who had sold Ben the bad drugs and once he did, he would leave the gang. I was scared, first Ben now Paul. I was still the cleaner, trying my best to look after Sarah and James.

  “About a year after Ben died, Paul came home late one night, covered in blood. I watched him through the crack in my bedroom door as he tried to clean himself up in the bathroom, across the hall. I guess he didn’t want to turn on any more lights in case he woke someone up, so he kept the door open and used the hall light that was always on, as Sarah was afraid of the dark. He made such a mess. Isn’t it strange how even a little blood can make such a big mess? I remember wondering how I was going to clean it up before Mum and Dad woke up.”

  Sophia was so remote now, he almost didn’t recognize her. It was as though she was telling someone else’s story. Luca didn’t know whether he should encourage her to go on, to get it all out, or stop her now and continue another time. She let out a long sigh, and continued.

  “Before I could even get up in the morning, the police were banging on the door. I didn’t answer it this time. I hid in my room. But the walls were paper thin, and I could hear everything. Paul was arrested for murdering one of the gang members and als
o another boy, who the police think witnessed the first killing, and was stabbed to keep him quiet. They had Paul’s image on CCTV camera, and with the blood all over his clothes and most of the bathroom it was a pretty open and shut case.

  “Our family was notorious and people even crossed the street to avoid us. School was a nightmare. Fortunately, Sarah and especially James were still a little too young to fully understand what was going on. There was talk that they would be taken into care, so Dad promised to be at home when they finished school and stay until at least Mum returned. A promise he actually kept. I think for the first time he realized what was happening to the family.”

  “What about you? How did you cope?” Luca found it almost impossible to get the words out. The distress Sophia had experienced certainly put the bullying he’d endured into perspective.

  “I no longer had any friends, so there was nothing to do but study and read. With the evidence against Paul, it took only six months to bring the case to trial. It was terrible, even harder than when Ben had died. I was a witness, having seen Paul come home covered in blood. I didn’t want to grass on my brother; however, I also believe in justice. If Paul took an innocent life, then he should undergo some form of punishment. I didn’t really care about the gang member; I figured he had made his own choices. I kept thinking about the poor boy who was in the wrong place at the wrong time. He’d been fifteen when he was killed, same age I was. But it didn’t stop the guilt; I felt like I was betraying my brother.

  “I was in school the day the sentence was announced. Of course by lunchtime the whole school knew Paul was going to prison for twelve years. I went to the loo to try to compose myself, when a group of my former friends came in, including Kathy Summers, the woman we saw at Villa d’Este.”

  Sophia started to shake. He stood and pulled her into his arms, holding her head close to his chest.

  “They grabbed me and pushed me to the ground and a couple of girls sat on me so I couldn’t move. Someone stuffed a school tie in my mouth so I couldn’t scream. Then Kathy carved the initials of the boy who had been killed into my buttocks with a pen knife. They were discussing doing worse to me when one of them I guess felt squeamish from all the blood and ran to get a teacher. Funny, I don’t remember the pain, but I can still smell the floor cleaner. To this day I can’t stand pine-scented cleaning products. Anyway, someone called an ambulance and that was the last time I set foot in that school.”