CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER SEVEN
Mars was gorgeous at this time of year!
Or at least the version of Mars Sev had given her.
Anna hadn’t been best pleased when Juliet had told her she was leaving, but soon she had begun moving her things and was now installed in the beautiful home.
In the week it had taken to work her notice, Sevandro had arranged for a lot to be done.
The dust sheets had gone, the windows had all been cleaned, drapes had been hung and there was a large grey velvet couch in the lounge, with a few occasional tables. The lights all worked now, and there were towels and new linen.
The room she loved the most, though, was the main bedroom.
It was incredible.
It wasn’t just red, as Sevandro had described, but a blushing crimson—from the walls to the carpets, from the drapes to the bedding—with just the occasional splash of gold around the mirrors and on handles and such.
‘How is it?’
He called her on the very first night she was there—although perhaps that was to check on things at the house, rather than to check on her.
‘Gorgeous…’ She sighed. ‘Peaceful! I can’t believe I’m in the middle of Lucca—I feel like I’m out in the country.’
She looked around the crimson bedroom, examining it again now she’d turned on the side lights. It was the most sensual room on earth—like a womb or something. All red, even this huge plump bed, also dressed in crimson.
‘It should be too much.’
‘What should?’
‘The flagrant use of crimson.’
‘Is that how to tell me you’re in my bed, without telling me you’re in my bed?’ he grumbled.
But she laughed. ‘It’s my favourite room,’ she told him.
And not just because it was beautiful. Because it was the room where they’d made love, where she’d cried as she came to him. The room where they’d spoken so intimately…
* * *
Her music flourished, and at the end of each day she filled her schedule with little triumphant ticks, but it worried her that a day only truly became a gold star one when Sevandro called.
More often than not it was Helene, his PA, who called to inform her of tradesmen arriving, or photographers, or gardeners and so on. But every now and then there was the bliss of his voice for a few moments—a giddy high, followed by the comedown of silence when he rang off. And then a few moments when she sat quietly acknowledging the rapid beat of her own heart at the mere sound of his voice, the lift it gave her night or day.
It unsettled her.
Even if she hadn’t made all the right choices, and it felt lonely at times, Juliet was used to relying only on herself and providing for herself. It wasn’t so much the fact that she was staying in his property that unnerved her—she knew it was temporary, and was simply grateful for the chance to give her all to her music in these important months—it was her deepening feelings for Sevandro that unsettled her.
She could ignore her feelings as she wrestled with her exam pieces or attended rehearsals and caught up with friends. But at the end of their brief phone calls, or at night when she fell into bed, there were moments of silence where she did her best to ignore what her heart was telling her.
You like him too much .
Of course she did, Juliet would reason. She wouldn’t have slept with him otherwise.
You’re in too deep .
No. Thank you, heart, for the unnecessary warning, but I know what I’m doing…
* * *
Susie and Dante returned, and they had a quick catch-up, but Susie was busy juggling her new apprenticeship at Pearla’s, and Dante being half in Milan and half in Lucca, as well as being pregnant.
But she brought lunch over to Juliet one day, and they sat on the portico looking out on the garden that was starting to take shape as the gardeners cut back the overgrowth.
‘Wow,’ Susie said, ‘when did that fountain appear?’
‘Last week.’ Juliet smiled. ‘Tomorrow they’re filling the swimming pool.’
Susie completely believed that she and Sev had simply come to an arrangement about the house. The thought of her and Sev in a relationship of any sort had obviously been instantly dismissed. It was clearly easier to believe she was just the temporary housekeeper.
‘Does it disturb your practice?’ Susie asked. ‘All these workmen?’
‘No.’ Juliet shook her head. ‘And it’s nice knowing they don’t care about my noise. There’s a basement room if it gets too much—it looks like it was a dance studio. I take myself down there sometimes, but for the most part…’
For the most part life was perfect. All the problems she’d had were gone. But nature did indeed love a void, and now she had a whole new set of concerns.
‘Sev has asked Gio and Mimi if they would consider Christmas in Dubai,’ Susie told her. ‘Dante doesn’t think Sev’s ever coming back.’
Juliet chewed on a fat strawberry and tried to think what she might have said if she and Sev hadn’t shared so much—if she didn’t know so much.
‘Well, he’ll be coming back here to see the baby.’
‘I don’t think so…’ Susie sighed. ‘He told Dante that he doesn’t know if he’ll even be able to get back for the memorial.’
‘Surely…?’
Juliet halted herself in her delving and asking for more details, but surely Susie had it wrong. She tried to keep her question vague, and not reveal the panic at the thought of not even seeing him one final time.
‘It’s the ten-year memorial, isn’t it?’
‘Yes,’ Susie confirmed. ‘But he’s busy with work, apparently. How cold is that?’
* * *
Juliet didn’t ask Sev about it when they spoke—didn’t ask him to confirm if he was coming home one last time.
Perhaps she was too scared of his answer and having to face her feelings. It felt safer and certainly more sensible to focus on her music…to utilise this golden opportunity.
Occasionally she called him—usually regarding the house, or the garden. But on the eve of her first exam it was for a very personal reason that Juliet rang him, bracing herself to get his voicemail, unsure if she was right to interfere.
‘Ready for your exam?’ he asked.
‘I hope so. What are you doing?’
‘Looking at a gap in the skyline.’
‘The one you and Sheikh Mahir are hoping to fill?’
He’d told her a little about the dazzling complex that he was aiming to get off the ground.
‘It sounds incredible,’ she said.
‘I’ll send you a picture.’
He did, and she stared at the beautiful Dubai skyline he gazed upon tonight.
‘Did you get it?’ he asked.
‘Yes…’
He wanted to know what she thought—wanted to know if he should be thinking the way he was.
‘What do you think?’ he pressed.
‘It’s stunning,’ she said. ‘Are you outside now?’
‘Yes—just having a drink on the balcony… We’re hoping to sign off on it all soon.’
‘How soon?’
‘A few weeks…then life gets even busier.’
She guessed that meant no trips to Lucca—not even for the memorial. He was shifting his base to Dubai completely, and she felt teary all of a sudden, nervous about what she had to say.
‘Sev, the reason I called… Look, I don’t know if I should say anything…’
‘Is Susie asking awkward questions?’
‘No, she’s delighted that I’ve got somewhere to stay and that your home’s being taken care of.’ She took a breath. ‘I went to the doctor a couple of weeks ago.’
‘You’re okay?’
She heard the cautious note in his voice and it was merited, given what had happened with Rosa, and how careful they’d been.
‘Absolutely fine,’ she told him.
Should she tell him she’d gone on the Pill? That she ached for it to be the day of the memorial, a few weeks from now? That she so badly wanted it to be a day he actually dreaded?
How selfish was that?
‘So, what are you telling me?’ he asked.
‘I think the doctor was the lady you were talking to at the wedding.’
‘Ella?’ he checked.
‘I think so… Is she the daughter of the doctor you were telling me about?’ She heard only silence. ‘Could you maybe speak with her about Rosa?’
‘She wasn’t practising ten years ago.’
Juliet was flustered. ‘I guess not… It was just a thought…maybe there are old notes?’
‘Yes.’
He was still a bit terse, but Juliet knew he was thinking about what she’d said. The silence was a long one, and she wondered if she shouldn’t have said anything, just let it go.
‘I’ll let you get back to your skyline,’ she told him.
‘Good luck tomorrow.’
* * *
Sevandro did get back to the skyline, but his thoughts were of home. Not so much of the past, but the present.
Telling Juliet about Rosa had changed things—she was the first person he’d opened up to…the first person to hear his doubts about the baby.
For a decade he’d thought it best to leave things alone, but her gentle enquiry today had matched his own thoughts, her call a quiet confirmation of what he’d felt on Dante’s wedding night.
He needed to know.
And not just for himself.
He thought of the grief that came around each and every year—the hollow feeling when he didn’t know if he was thinking of a child who’d be almost ten or a wife who’d lied. Rather than take to whisky, he always made sure he worked impossibly late as the date approached, and in the days after, burying himself in work rather than dealing with the past.
No more.
* * *
Sevandro didn’t call to check how her exam had gone.
Nor did he call the next day.
Or the next.
Weeks were flying…summer was fading.
And of course it wasn’t a romance—because there were no texts, few calls… In truth, there was nothing.
To celebrate her final exam she and Susie decided on a catch-up lunch at Pearla’s. Such an extravagance would have been unthinkable a few short weeks ago, but things were going well. So well that for the first time in ages Juliet had bought new clothes that had nothing to do with work—a navy linen dress that buttoned up the front and was smart enough for auditions and lunch with a friend.
‘Oh, it’s so good to see you!’ Susie hugged her.
‘It’s brilliant to be out,’ Juliet admitted. ‘It feels like I’ve been shut away.’
‘You have been.’
‘Susie!’ Everyone in the kitchen seemed to cry out in unison as they entered. ‘We miss you.’
‘I miss you too,’ she said. ‘I’ll come over for a chat in a minute.’
First, though, they took their seats.
‘Have you finished up here?’ Juliet checked, knowing that Susie had wanted to do a few more weeks at the restaurant before she went on maternity leave.
‘I spoke to Cuoco yesterday and told him I have to stop.’
‘Everything’s okay?’
‘Of course! We’re just so busy, with Dante between here and Milan and the winery… I’ll be back next year, once the baby’s here.’ She patted her very nice bump. ‘How were the exams?’
‘I think they went okay… Well, I know a couple of them went really well.’
‘And rehearsals?’
‘They start next week,’ Juliet said, then crossed her fingers. ‘I’m practising loads.’
‘You’ll be wonderful—we can’t wait.’
It wasn’t just that Juliet’s accommodation was sorted and her exams were over. Bookings for the ensemble were picking up, the weeks and months ahead were starting to be filled in, and she was starting to believe that she might be able to support herself in the town she loved with her music.
They chatted about everything and nothing, and it was so lovely to catch up.
Juliet was adamant that they went halves. ‘Susie, please,’ she said. ‘I am finally making headway, and I don’t want you paying for everything when we’re out.’
‘I wouldn’t have said Pearla’s in that case.’
‘Then I wouldn’t have had the best truffle carbonara!’ Juliet beamed. ‘And you do get a staff discount!’
‘True!’
‘Now I have to dash. I need to pay the rent.’
‘Sev’s charging you?’
‘No!’ She laughed. ‘For my violin.’
‘He’s out with Dante right now…’
‘Sorry?’ Juliet was sure she’d misheard.
‘Sev’s home. Well, he’s in his usual hotel,’ Susie said. ‘He flew in yesterday, apparently, and asked Dante if they could catch up.’
‘That’s nice…’
Juliet didn’t know what else to say, or even how she felt. Sev was here in Lucca and she didn’t even know.
They said goodbye, but just before Susie went to talk to her colleagues she changed her mind. ‘Oh, I forgot…’
‘What?’
‘Gio’s decided to go all out for the memorial.’
‘Oh.’ She thought about how Sev was already dreading it, and then was startled as Susie spoke on.
‘Can you guys play?’
‘Us?’
‘Of course. Gio won’t hear of anyone else.’
She told her the date and Juliet didn’t quite know what to say.
‘Do you already have a booking?’ asked Susie. ‘Or…?’
‘I’m not sure…’ She honestly didn’t know what to do. ‘Let me check with Louanna—she deals with that side of things.’
Louanna would jump at the chance, and of course the prospect should be churning her up as she walked. But instead the fact that Sev was here in Lucca was her biggest issue now.
Sevandro was here and she hadn’t even known.
She took out her phone—not to call him, but to see if there had been any attempt by him to contact her.
‘Look where you’re going,’ a deeply sexy voice said.
And then she felt his hand on her elbow and she wanted to turn and collapse with relief into his arms.
But that would be pathetic—and, more than that, she didn’t know who or what they were any more.
‘Sev!’ She snapped on a smile. ‘I didn’t know you were back,’ she said. ‘Susie mentioned it—we just had lunch.’
‘What are you up to?’ he asked.
‘I need to get some rosin…pay my violin rent…’
‘Will it take long?’
‘No.’
‘I’ll come with you.’
She really wanted the calm and dark of Signor’s to help her collect her thoughts.
‘This is my favourite place in the world,’ she told Sev.
She smiled, and pushed open the door, hit by the gorgeous scents of wood and varnish.
‘Juliet?’ a voice called. ‘I’ll be with you soon.’
‘Is it a shop?’ asked Sev.
‘A workshop, really. He’s a luthier. He does all the repairs and makes instruments too.’
* * *
Sevandro had never even glanced in the window, but now he was here he looked at this rather odd place that seemed to belong in another century.
He looked at the sign above the counter.
A table, a chair, a bowl of fruit and a violin; what else does a man need to be happy?
Albert Einstein
‘I’d need a bit more than that,’ he quipped, for Juliet’s ears, but a very old man came out and shot him a look, then smiled for the lovely Juliet.
They spoke for ever about her exams, and how well the ensemble were doing.
‘We even took a booking for Christmas,’ she told him.
And then he asked her about the opera she was rehearsing for.
She had a life here, thought Sev. A good one. And on this day especially he simply could not envisage ever having his own here.
His head was pounding, the scent of varnish too much, and after all that he had found out yesterday, and Dante’s reaction today, he had bile churning in his stomach.
Sev glanced at his watch. His flight left soon…
* * *
Juliet could almost feel his impatience, and even Signor noted it for he gave her a glance. But finally her rent was paid and they were heading back to the house.
Juliet wondered if he’d even have dropped in had they not crossed paths.
‘You’ll see a lot of changes,’ she said as they arrived at the gates. ‘The garden’s—’
‘I haven’t got time for a tour,’ he told her. ‘I have to fly at five.’
‘You should have said. I could have gone to Signor’s another time.’
‘I don’t expect you to drop everything just because I show up.’
‘So what exactly do you expect, Sev?’ Juliet asked, surprising herself with her own boldness.
But his sudden appearance was unsettling. Her exams were done, her life was moving in the right direction, and she did not want an uncertain relationship destabilising that. If she was even allowed to call it a relationship.
‘I get that we’ve made no real commitment…but to not even tell me you’re back in the country…’
She looked at him, wanting to be able to say just how much she’d missed him, wanting to do all the normal things a lover might do—only his sudden appearance and his lack of communication with her only proved how far apart they were. Clearly she didn’t factor into his days in the way he did hers.
‘Imagine if you bumped into me in Dubai and I hadn’t so much as told you I was there.’
‘I’d be delighted.’
‘Really?’ she retorted disbelievingly.
‘Juliet, you had your final exam yesterday. I didn’t want to interfere with that.’
‘I didn’t realise you were so thoughtful.’
He gave a black smile. ‘I assume that’s you being sarcastic?’
‘Yes,’ she admitted, then closed her eyes, hating this row, trying to push aside her insecurities.
She opened her eyes and met his, almost scared by the relief she felt to be held in his gaze, and she registered properly, right then, how much she’d missed him. Every single day. The only reprieve had been when she was lost in her music.
‘Look, it’s good that you’re here,’ she told him.
‘For eight more minutes.’
‘It won’t take long. I was going to call… I’ve got something to ask you. It’s a bit awkward.’
‘I don’t do awkward,’ he said.
‘You’ll just have to say if it’s an issue.’
She knew he most certainly would.
‘Of course.’
‘Gio has asked us to play at the memorial.’
‘What?’ His voice was like the crack of a whip.
‘I think it’s going to be a bit of an event…’
‘What the hell’s Gio doing?’ His jaw gritted. ‘I don’t even know if I’ll be there.’
‘So I heard.’
‘What do you want, Juliet?’ He came over to her, his eyes more black than silver. ‘Should Helene send you my itinerary? Do I have to relay to you some half-conversation I’ve had with my brother?’
* * *
Sevandro halted. His anger was not aimed at Juliet. He had known it would be foolish to come here, and the reason for his visit was not one he’d intended to share with her—at least not face to face.
Yet here they were.
‘Look, take the booking,’ he said, trying to keep his voice even. ‘It’s no problem for me.’
He paused, about to say he’d always hoped she’d be there, but it sounded too much.
‘I assumed you’d be there anyway,’ he said. ‘You’ve been at every recent family event, after all.’
‘Assumed?’
He watched her eyes narrow at his choice of word, felt her anger as she approached, and he liked the way she contained herself, how her lips pressed together, how she did not evade the issues.
God, he admired that a lot.
‘The last time I performed for your family,’ she said tartly, ‘we weren’t sleeping together.’
And when he should do the sensible thing—tell her why he was here, and about all the hell of the past two days—instead he caved, reverted to ways of old. Because it was so much easier to reach for her, to hold her hips and bring her closer.
‘How about now?’ he said.
* * *
There was no question as to what he was suggesting.
She could feel that he was angry and turned on as he kissed her, but so too was she.
This deep, hard kiss, thorough and intense, with his hands pulling her in, his energy drawing her into his vortex, was a kiss such as she’d never known.
His jaw was rough on her skin and his hands were between them, undoing the belt of her dress, lifting the skirt. She felt a lick of excitement, as if the craving of recent weeks was about to be banished.
But as abruptly as it had started he halted things, pressed their foreheads together, his breathing ragged.
‘I ought to go.’
* * *
He must go.
There was no way he could stay.
He’d done far too much of using sex as a quick anaesthetic, and he’d sworn to do better by her.
‘I really do have to go.’
‘Do you?’
‘I don’t think me dropping in for angry sex is a good idea,’ he said.
‘Angry?’
‘Yes. Not with you,’ he added. ‘But there’s no tenderness in me today, and I think you’d regret it.’
* * *
‘Maybe…’
She nodded, suddenly confused. Because she wanted him so badly and somehow he was taking care of her. Because, yes, she might well have regretted it about ten minutes from now, when he walked out through the door. But still there was this strain and desire and ache between them…this longing, still there.
‘I don’t know,’ she admitted.
‘I’m trying to be better.’
‘Better?’
She could feel her heart hammering, hear his ragged breath, and she knew she’d just glimpsed the escape of rapid sex. She understood now what he’d been inviting her to partake in that first night.
Sex.
Pure escape.
With Sevandro the thought didn’t scare her, and yet he’d closed that door to them—chosen a path he generally ignored.
And then he told her why he was here.
‘I had lunch with Ella yesterday.’
‘The doctor?’
He nodded. ‘After we spoke, I called her.’
They were standing together, but no longer entwined. Her dress slipped back down and the dark passion of before was replaced by the pain of real conversation.
‘I told her that I had doubts about Rosa’s pregnancy. She seemed reluctant to discuss it…reminded me of her oath…but then she asked how it was affecting me. And the truth is that it is affecting me—even more so of late.’ He took a breath. ‘Do you remember you asked me if I was upset when Rosa lost the baby?’
Juliet barely nodded, but her eyes must have told him that absolutely she did, and also recalled how he’d nodded, but said no more.
Now he did say more.
‘I was devastated. The baby was the reason we’d married, and though it sounds a shaky reason, I was determined to make it work. Now, when each anniversary rolls around, I don’t know if I’m mourning or…’
She nodded. ‘I know the memorial’s approaching—’
‘I’m talking about the anniversary of Rosa’s miscarriage!’
Juliet’s breath hitched as he interrupted angrily, though she knew his anger wasn’t with her.
‘Every year I think of what we might have had, or how old our child would be—and then I remind myself that I don’t know if it even existed, if I even have anything to grieve.’ His eyes flashed like flint, revealing a glimpse of the turmoil he wrestled with. ‘When Rosa died I told myself to leave it…that knowing the truth wouldn’t change anything.’
‘But it does?’ she offered.
‘Ella seemed to understand why I needed to know and said that she would give it some thought. She called me back and said she would talk to me next time I was home. I explained I was up to my neck in work, and asked could we do it over the phone, but she wanted to speak face to face. There was really no way I could get out of work, without letting a lot of people down, but neither could I wait until the memorial.’
‘I get that…’
‘So Helene shuffled things about and I flew back. I got in at eleven yesterday and met Ella for lunch. She said she’d looked through Rosa’s records but there was nothing she could tell me.’
‘I’m sorry.’
‘No,’ he said. ‘Maybe you had to be there to get what she meant.’
His face was pale, and she watched his throat as he swallowed, then looked back into his silver-grey eyes.
‘There was no confidence to break because there were no records of any pregnancy or miscarriage. Rosa didn’t see any doctor at the practice in the whole year before she died.’
‘Sev…’ Her mind darted for another explanation. ‘Could she have seen a different doctor?’
‘No.’ He shook his head. ‘I was told Dr Romero had taken care of her. I was in Dubai when she lost the baby, so her mother took her to hospital. She told me Dr Romero had said she should rest at their home, so they could take care of her. Lies…all lies.’
‘I’m so sorry. Are you…?’ What could she say? ‘Are you okay?’
‘I’ve been better. I was supposed to fly back yesterday, but I knew I needed to speak to Dante, and I needed a bit of space before that. So I had Helene move things around again and went to the hotel. Believe me, I wouldn’t have been great company last night.’
‘I don’t need you to be great company…’
She halted, her thoughts all tumbled. She didn’t think now was the time to reveal that she just needed his company. Just that. Wanted him good or bad. She pushed those thoughts aside and tried to focus on all he’d told her.
‘You didn’t have to be on your own.’
He gave her a look that said he didn’t quite believe that.
‘How did it go with Dante?’ she asked.
‘I don’t know. He was quiet…’
‘Perhaps it just needs to sink in.’
‘Or perhaps there’s nothing left to say. I think we’re as close as we’re ever going to be. There’s too much water under the bridge for us to go back to how we were.’
‘Could you stay a bit longer?’
She wasn’t asking for herself—well, maybe a bit—but she hated it that he was glancing at his watch when there was still so much here for him to sort out.
‘Just a couple of days? It might give Dante a chance to get his head around it.’
‘I can’t.’ Perhaps he saw the flash of doubt in her eyes. ‘It was hard enough to get these two days off.’
‘Can’t you tell Sheikh Mahir…?’
‘It’s not about Mahir—or Adal.’ He looked at her. ‘I work fourteen or sixteen-hour days. It’s how my life is. And I don’t get to jump off the hamster wheel without letting an awful lot of people down. It’s like you,’ he said, ‘in exam mode.’
‘That was temporary, though.’
Oh, there would always be practice, and her life would always be busy, but she couldn’t imagine living at his permanent frenetic pace.
‘I come up for air now and then.’
‘I can’t for a couple of weeks—but I will be back for the memorial.’ He gave her a lighter kiss, a goodbye kiss. ‘I wish I’d come here last night.’
Juliet was silent. She wished he’d been here too. Not just for sex but to be with each other, to be there for each other.
‘You could come to Dubai,’ he said. ‘For a few days…’
He was so nonchalant about it—clearly thought nothing of flying her around the world.
‘What? You’ll pop me on your private jet?’ She tried to keep her voice light.
‘God, no—ghastly things. Mahir has one. I refuse to use it.’ He smiled, ‘You’d have to slum it in first class.’
‘But will you be able to take any days off?’
‘Probably not,’ he admitted. ‘But we could work something out.’ He headed for the door. ‘Think about it.’
* * *
She could not stop thinking about it.
He’d left her with a glimmer of hope.
He was all she thought about.
Even her music offered no escape.
Then again, Mozart’s Apollo et Hyacinthus was so emotional—about youth, death, jealousy and betrayal—that instead of crying she just poured all her feelings into rehearsal…