Lucy Gordon - Bride By Choice

She struggled to speak but nothing would come. She could see only Lorenzo’s face and feel the warm pressure of his hand enfolding hers. Her throat felt tight.

‘Goodbye, Helen. I’m going to miss you.’

‘Goodbye,’ she whispered.

Then there was his hand on her shoulder, his lips briefly brushing her cheek. As he walked away she could see the back of his head, easily visible above the rest of the crowd before a turning took him from her sight.

She stood amidst the teeming airport and felt more desolate and alone than ever before in her life.

She had said she would leave at once, but she needed a strong coffee, and she sat over it for half an hour before realising it was cold and ordering another. When she’d drunk that she told herself again that she should be leaving. But instead her feet carried her to the window from which she could see the 747 just starting to pull away. She stood rooted to the spot while it glided out onto the runway in the dusk, then gathered speed until it rose into the air and headed for the clouds.

Helen stared at the disappearing lights until she could see them no more. Suddenly everything was blurred and she wondered if there was rain on the window panes, until she realised that it was her eyes that were blurred.

It was a long flight to Rome and when he landed Lorenzo had a head like cotton wool. But he got straight onto the connecting flight to Palermo, and was home by the evening of the next day.

Renato and Heather were waiting for him, hugging him with delight and carrying him off home in triumph. There his mother opened her arms to her youngest son, her eyes shining with joy. Fede, the lover of her youth, now her constant companion, shook his hand. Heather hugged him again, although it was less easy now that her pregnancy was becoming obvious. Renato paid one of his rare compliments.

‘You did a fine job over there,’ he growled. ‘The order books are overflowing.’

‘And you’ve got something to tell, yes?’ his mother asked eagerly. ‘About Elena?’

‘Mamma, it’s nothing, I swear it. There’s nothing to tell. We’re just good friends.’

Baptista gave a little scream of outrage. ‘You were kissing the first evening. You’ve spent the last week living in each other’s pockets and you’re just good friends? This is your Mamma you’re talking to. Who do you think you are? A film star giving a press conference?’

‘I didn’t mean it that way,’ he said hastily. ‘We’re just friendly, that’s all. We had to work together a lot, and we had fun too. It didn’t mean anything.’

‘That’s not what Signora Angolini says when we have talked on the telephone.’

Lorenzo tore his hair. ‘ Maria vergine! Helen was right! Today Manhattan, tomorrow the world!’

‘And just who is Helen?’ Baptista asked.

‘She prefers Helen to Elena. Mamma, can we talk about this later? I’m just glad to be back with my family. Where’s Bernardo? Where’s Angie?’

His mother allowed him to escape, but with a look that said she would talk to him later.

Neither Bernardo nor Angie was present. As Lorenzo had told Helen, his half brother lived a lonely life in Montedoro, the mountain village where he had been born. Bitter pride had made him reject the woman he loved because of her wealth. But great-hearted Angie had followed him, working as the local doctor in that comfortless place. Gradually he was learning to respect her, perhaps even letting himself love her again. But there was no sign of them at this gathering.

‘Bernardo’s vanished,’ Renato explained. ‘You know the way he’s always doing that without warning. He’ll be back in his own good time.’

‘I thought he and Angie were sorting things out,’ Lorenzo protested. ‘Mamma, you remember your birthday party just before I left, when Angie wouldn’t come in case the snow stopped her getting back up the mountain to her patients, and Bernardo left early? I thought it was because he wanted to be with her.’

‘I’m sure he did,’ Baptista said. ‘When I called Angie that night, he was there in her home.’

‘But it seems he left the next day,’ Heather said, ‘and he’s still away.’

Before Lorenzo went to bed he emailed Helen about his arrival. It was meant to be a short note but he got carried away and found himself talking about Bernardo and Angie. Even at this distance she was easy to talk to and the words poured out.

He paused, wondering if he’d said too much. Would she really be interested in all this family stuff? But she’d said she liked the sound of Angie. He hit the Send button quickly, before he could change his mind, and tottered into bed, jet-lagged out of his mind.

Her reply was waiting for him next morning.

If you’re fond of your brother, I won’t tell you what I think of him for walking out on her-

‘Thanks,’ Lorenzo murmured with feeling.

– but if she’s up there in the mountains trying to cope alone I think someone should check if she’s all right. You say she’s practically family. Isn’t that what families do?

‘I was going anyway,’ he told the screen, with perfect truth.

His first day had to be spent closeted with Renato, talking business. But as soon as he could get away he drove up to Montedoro, arriving just as Dr Angie Wendham was finishing her evening surgery. She was beautiful in a blonde, almost fairy-like way, but he thought she looked tired and sad. She hailed him with pleasure and invited him to supper.

‘I want to hear all about America,’ she said.

He’d meant to speak about his travels, his triumphs, but all he could think of was Helen, and for the life of him he couldn’t stop an enormous grin taking over his face.

‘What’s her name?’ Angie demanded at once.

‘I don’t know why you women always jump to one conclusion. I spent some time with the daughter of family friends in New York. Her name’s Helen and, before you hear wedding bells, I’m the last man in the world she’d dream of marrying. She told me that in the first ten minutes.’

Angie’s eyes widened. ‘You proposed to her in ten minutes?’

‘She didn’t wait for a proposal. She just rushed to tell me not to bother.’

‘You don’t mean you’ve met a woman who’s immune to your charm?’

‘If you like to put it that way,’ he said, slightly piqued.

Angie chuckled. ‘I like the sound of her,’ she said, echoing Helen’s own words in a way that gave Lorenzo an eerie feeling.

‘Well, don’t keep me in suspense,’ Angie went on. ‘Tell me- ouch !’

A fork had fallen to the floor and jabbed her foot. Lorenzo watched her bend down for it, then clutch the table. Alarmed, he made a dash and just caught her before she slid to the floor.

‘I’m fine,’ she said hastily.

‘You look a bit peaky.’

‘It’s been a long, hard day. I didn’t have time for lunch.’

He made her sit down while he prepared the supper. ‘How are you managing?’ he asked kindly.

She told him some of the story, but she still kept many secrets. Lorenzo could only guess what had happened the night of Baptista’s birthday, when Bernardo had followed her up here, and why he had fled the woman he loved so soon after. But remembering how Angie had nearly fainted, he was beginning to think it was time he took a hand.

The next day he went looking for Bernardo in a deserted farmhouse where he had often hidden away before. He found him there again, and brushed aside Bernardo’s protests. He had come to talk about Angie.

‘I’m still your brother and I’m not going to let you screw up the best thing that ever happened to you,’ he said, adding significantly, ‘Things have changed. If you’re going to add to the family, it’s about time you started being a member of it.’