Chapter Seven #3
‘I’m not going anywhere, but I can’t help if I don’t know what’s going on.’
‘You can’t help.’ She shook off his hands and took an unsteady step backwards.
‘You don’t know what it’s like living with an addict.
You don’t understand how relentless they are.
How determined they are to hurt themselves.
How every morning, you wake up wondering how you’re going to get through the day, how you’re going to get them through the day without everything imploding. ’
‘And it’s every day,’ Ettore said quietly. ‘Every day you have to stay alert and focused. You can never relax, except sometimes you have to. Sometimes you want to, only then you have to deal with the consequences. Because they’re your responsibility.’
Ettore breathed out unsteadily. Dulcie was staring at him in shock and something like panic. But then it wasn’t often that somebody read your mind. Of course, it was more than simple mind-reading. He knew exactly what she was feeling because he had walked in her shoes.
She cleared her throat. ‘How do you know that?’
‘Many great dynasties have been rumoured to have a curse. In Italy, it is my family who have been troubled by tragedy. But the big stuff, the visible stuff, that’s all in the public domain.
Nothing to see there. Unfortunately, my family also specialises in behind the scenes chaos.
My job is to hide that chaos. To bury the scandals.
To clear up their messes. Their titles may be royal.
Their behaviour, unfortunately, is less so.
And it’s been that way since before I can remember. ’
Was he really going to do this now? Apparently, yes.
The thought made his hand reach automatically for the back of his neck as it always did when he was stressed. And yet, he didn’t feel stressed. Oddly, al contrario, in fact, it felt like the right time. Or maybe Dulcie was the right person, the only person who could understand.
‘What kind of chaos?’ she said now.
‘My brother, Edo, was a gambler. I don’t mean he liked a flutter on the horses.
I mean high-stakes poker games with six-figure buy-ins.
There was one year where I pretty much spent every week flying round the world paying off his debts.
My uncle keeps a string of mistresses. My father did, too.
And then there’s my cousins. Checco and his brothers like to get coked up and hang out with the offspring of dodgy businessmen. And by businessmen, I mean gangsters.’
It felt strange after so long spent smoothing over the cracks to suddenly press against them, strange and yet satisfying somehow to watch the veneer splinter and buckle.
‘All of them have spent time in very expensive, very discreet clinics in Switzerland. Not like the Dymphna. There’s no glossy webpage with testimonials.
No group therapy, no communal area. Patients stay in their own villa or apartment and have their own driver, housekeeper, chef and live-in therapist, as well as daily one-on-one sessions with a team of psychiatrists, doctors, nurses, yoga teachers, masseuses, nutritionists, hypnotherapists and trauma therapists. ’
‘But it all looks so perfect.’ Dulcie seemed stunned. ‘When I saw the castle, I thought that’s why you didn’t want Oscar around. But that wasn’t the reason, was it?’
It wasn’t. But better to let Dulcie believe it was the reason she was reaching for, than share the truth.
Shaking his head, he reached forward and stroked her cheek.
‘Sometimes, it’s overwhelming. I love my family, but they are alcoholics, sex addicts, drug addicts, gamblers.
So, I think I can help you. I’d like to help. ’
He turned and unlocked the safe and pulled out Dulcie’s passport.
‘And if you want to leave and go to see Oscar, I won’t stop you.’
He thought back to that day when Oscar had turned up, his eyes glazed, his speech slurred.
Dulcie had been beside herself, not outwardly, but her body had been taut like a bowstring, and she’d had eyes only for Oscar.
It had been as though she were wearing blinkers, and it was all so horribly familiar to him, that feeling of being invisible and irrelevant, that he had frozen. Frozen Dulcie out.
And he hated that he’d done that. But hating himself wasn’t enough. He needed to put things right. To be the husband she had needed then and still needed now.
He held out the passport. ‘But if you leave, I’m coming with you.’
‘You’d do that for me?’
‘You’re my wife. And you were my wife two years ago when I let you down.’
She was biting her lip, and the tears she’d been holding back had started streaking her cheeks.
‘I don’t want to let Oscar down. Not again.’
‘I doubt you’ve ever let him down.’ He reached out and stroked her face, but she jerked away.
‘But I did. I let him down so badly.’
Her pain pierced him deep inside. ‘Maybe it’s only bad in your head.’
Her eyes met his briefly and then she shook her head slowly. ‘I left him.’
‘When?’
‘When my parents divorced. My dad asked me to choose between him and my mum.’ She pressed her wrist against her mouth. ‘I chose my dad because I knew if he left me, I’d never see him again.’
He heard her swallow. ‘But that wasn’t the only reason. My mum was an alcoholic and when my dad was away on business she’d forget to feed me and Oscar. And I didn’t want my friends to meet her because she would drop things and do stupid dances, and I was embarrassed.’
Her hands were shaking. ‘I was embarrassed so I chose my dad, and Oscar stayed with my mum. He was only two.’
‘How old were you?’
‘Seven. But I knew what I was doing was wrong.’ She looked up at him angrily as if defying him to contradict her. ‘I knew that she couldn’t look after him, but I left anyway. And then he ended up in care. Ended up like he is now.’
‘You couldn’t have known that would happen.’
‘But I did. I knew she couldn’t cope on her own. I knew because I was the one who bathed him and fed him and put him to bed.’
‘What about your dad?’
‘He didn’t want another baby. He never hurt Oscar or anything like that, but he never picked him up or played with him.’
‘How did he end up in care?’
‘He didn’t go to school for months. She was living in a van by then, moving around all the time. He was so thin when they finally caught up with her and all his clothes were dirty. And I was having ballet lessons and riding lessons and going to boarding school.’
Ettore could hear a roaring noise in his ears.
Years of going to the casa-famiglia had taught him that some people were not meant to have children, but it still shocked and appalled him. Angered him too. But his feelings weren’t important here.
‘You didn’t do anything wrong. You were a child. Your father should never have asked you to choose.’
But you did. The accusation reverberated inside his head, blunt and undeniably true. But he would deal with the guilt and remorse it provoked later.
‘And I should have refused. But I knew my dad would just leave us behind. Leave me behind. I was thinking about myself.’
‘Because you weren’t an adult. Okay, your mum wasn’t able to do the right thing, but Oscar had two parents. It didn’t matter if your dad didn’t want him. He was his responsibility.’
Reaching out, Ettore touched her cheek gently and this time she didn’t jerk away.
‘Did you not see Oscar after that?’
‘I asked if we could see them but my dad said that my mum’s situation had changed and that she couldn’t have me in her life any more.
I thought she’d remarried. But she’d actually gone into a clinic and Oscar was in care.
My dad knew that but he made me think that she had a new husband so that I wouldn’t ask him to look after his own son.
He refused to do it. I was twenty-one when I found that out.
We argued and I said I was going to find my brother and he cut me off. ’
‘And you did find him. And you’ve been taking care of him ever since,’ Ettore said gently.
She stiffened and then he felt her body soften against his. ‘It’s okay. He’s getting help. We’re not going to give up on him. Whatever it takes, however long it takes, you’ll be there and I’ll be there too.’
He pulled her closer, held her close for a long time, until finally she shifted against his chest and looked up at him. ‘What do you think we should do?’
‘Honestly? I think he needs help and he’s getting it.
But detoxing is hard. You have to face the world without your drug of choice.
And that’s scary. But he’s done the hardest part, Dulcie.
Taking responsibility is the hardest part.
And Oscar can’t change unless he keeps accepting that responsibility for himself.
If he sees you, he’ll have the hardest part to do again.
’ He hesitated. ‘But we don’t have to decide here and now.
The first thing we need to do is talk to the clinic director. ’
It took several hours to resolve. They spoke to Elaine O’Neill and then to several of Oscar’s therapists.
Ettore joined in the call and Dulcie found his input supportive and constructive.
He asked questions and listened to the answers and then asked pertinent follow-up questions.
He also asked for the conversation to be written up so that Dulcie could review it.
The consensus was that Oscar’s reaction was normal. Distressing but normal.
The conclusion was that he would remain in the clinic, and they would send Dulcie regular updates on his progress.
‘Are you happy with that?’ Ettore asked her.
She nodded. ‘Yes. Are you?’
‘I think the clinic is excellent. They clearly know Oscar. And they care about him. If he were my brother I would continue with the treatment but if at any time you change your mind or you want to go to England and talk to Dr O’Neill in person, we’ll go back.’
She nodded. ‘Thank you. For today. For everything.’
He found her hand, kissed it gently. ‘You don’t need to thank me. I’m just pleased I could help. Because I didn’t help before, did I?’
‘You didn’t know about Oscar.’
‘I didn’t ask about Oscar. I didn’t do the right thing. And I’m so sorry for how I acted. I made a bad choice, so many bad choices that day. You made the only sensible one.’
‘It didn’t feel like it. It felt like I’d been torn in two.’
‘It killed me, leaving you. But I was stupid and stubborn.’
‘And now?’
‘Still stupid and stubborn but more open, more honest.’
‘So what are you thinking right now?’
His eyes fixed on her face, clear and gold like sunlight.
‘That I wanted you last night,’ he said huskily. ‘And when we kissed it felt so good, only then I panicked because I wanted so badly for it to be real. And I couldn’t handle the idea that it might not be for you.’
His raw admission made her head swim. ‘What if it was, if it is real for me?’
His breath hitched audibly. ‘Then I would be very happy.’
‘Happy?’
She reached out and touched his stomach.
‘Just happy?’
His fingers moved to touch her face, the thumb pressing against her lips. ‘Thrilled. Delighted. Elated. Jubilant. Ecstatic—’
She leaned in and kissed him, and his hand moved to her neck, and he pulled her forward, his tongue pushing between her lips, taking his time.
‘Can we take our clothes off now?’ she whispered, and he laughed softly against her mouth and his hands joined hers, pulling at zips, fumbling with buttons and belts, both of them clumsy and inexpert with need.
And then they were naked.
She touched his scars and then dropped to her knees and traced their outline with her tongue.
‘You’re so beautiful,’ he murmured, and he was pulling her to her feet, his knuckles sliding in between her thighs, grunting as he felt how wet she was.
He knew exactly where and how to touch her, soothing, teasing her, and she felt a heat sliding up over her belly, knotting and tangling inside her so that she squirmed against his hand, whimpering at the ache that was swelling and building inexorably.
‘Can you come inside me? Or is that too fast?’
But he was already pulling her towards the bed. ‘Here.’ He spun her away from him, and then he lifted her hands and pressed them around the post at the end of the bed. ‘Hold onto this.’
She felt her skin tighten as he kissed her throat, and his hands cupped her breasts, and she lost herself in his touch until suddenly she couldn’t stand it any more.
‘Ettore, please.’
His hand moved to push her forward, so that her arms were above her head, and she felt him angle up her hips and bottom and he was pushing in slowly, so slowly that she wanted to cry out with frustration.
And then he started to move, and at first the rhythm was wrong and then suddenly they were in time with each other, and he was holding her neck with one hand, sliding the other over her pubic bone to her clitoris.
Her fingers tightened around the post, and she could feel his movements getting larger and more out of control and her own pleasure was building.
And then the swollen feeling inside her burst and she cried out as his mouth found hers and he anchored an arm around her waist and thrust inside her one last time.