Chapter Twenty-Two
By Sunday afternoon, Jade could stand the silence from Geneva no longer.
She’d sent outstanding wages to her bank account, but contact between them snapping like a thread – as Gran had always feared with Joey – made her feel weirdly destabilised.
She noted Geneva’s address from the employment records, changed into shorts and a T-shirt, and, as the electric bike stand in Piazza Cavour was annoyingly empty, set out on foot in the sunlight that had returned to Como as if the storm had never been.
No answer.
Prepared for this, she’d brought a note.
Geneva, we need to talk. Please! Jade.
Stooping, she slipped it beneath the door.
Catching a shuffle from within the apartment, she held her breath.
And waited.
After another minute, the door swung inwards and Geneva regarded her gravely. Her grey curls hung down over a loose mud-coloured T-shirt, unflattering and old. Her feet were bare.
Jade’s heart pattered, but her smile was calm. ‘I’ve come to apologise. The guest knows now who stole the money. I shouldn’t have let you leave as if I thought you guilty.’ Then, honestly, she added, ‘I didn’t know what to think.’
Geneva nodded, the ghost of a smile in her eyes. ‘I have a new job anyway.’ Rather than invite Jade in, she angled the door to prevent her seeing more than a metre of beige tiles and off-white walls.
Jade shifted. ‘Do you need a reference? I can provide one.’
Geneva shook her head. ‘I don’t think so, thank you.’ But her gaze slid left, along the bare concrete landing.
Cold fingers of suspicion crept up Jade’s spine. People were meant to look left when lying, weren’t they? ‘Did you . . . are you just saying you have a job to make me feel better?’
Without admitting it was a fib, Geneva sagged against the door jamb, her eyes flat and unhappy. ‘Could we . . . meet for coffee again?’
Before Jade could answer, she was surprised by the irritable shout of a male voice from within the apartment. ‘Who is it? Shut the door on them, Geneva.’
Jade’s eyes flew wide. ‘I didn’t realise you had a .
. .’ She halted, realising that Geneva had previously said she had no husband.
Not that there was no man in her life. Were he and Geneva a couple?
Or was she the man’s lodger? He’d sounded too bossy to be only a housemate.
At least Geneva looked resigned at his grouchiness, rather than frightened.
Tossing a glance over her shoulder, Geneva muttered, ‘I’ll contact you.’ And then, urgently, ‘I should have chosen you instead of Jarno, but your grandparents, they were waiting to scoop you into their safe, comfortable home.’ And she closed the door.
Jade remained rooted to the spot for several seconds, her mother’s words still hanging in the air.
Slowly she turned away, thoughts whirling.
That was out of the blue. Where had that come from?
Did she really . . . say that? To the echo of her footsteps on the concrete stairs, she trod back down to the street, then navigated the busy pavements beside the traffic until she could enter the city walls where the tall, square, stone tower of Porta Torre reached up into a blue-and-white sky.
I should have chosen you instead of Jarno.
Suddenly, there were tears on her cheeks. Geneva had said she’d wanted Jade. She’d let herself be pushed into a decision she regretted. Jade had been wanted. She hadn’t been abandoned. Geneva had thought she’d been giving her baby the best life she could.
Jade stopped, fighting the urge to spin on her heel and race back and make Geneva say it again.
Instead, she searched her pockets fruitlessly for tissues before filching several paper napkins from the table of a nearby café, calling apologies and pointing to her tears when a young waiter gave her a baleful glare.
Expression softening, he handed her several more napkins so she could dry her eyes and blow her nose.
‘Grazie, grazie.’ Embarrassed, she knew people must be staring at her weeping in the street.
Once she was no longer blinded by tears, she tried phoning Geneva. When she received no answer, she sent a text.
Tutto ok con quell’uomo? Sembrava scontroso. Are you OK with that man? He sounded grumpy.
Geneva texted back.
è solo Ubaldo.
It’s only Ubaldo? That wasn’t enlightening, but Geneva didn’t sound overly worried or in need of help, so Jade used her phone camera to check she didn’t have mascara all over her face, then carried on, fighting to order her emotions.
Arriving back at the pensione, the blue tarp hiding the hole in the roof reminded her that negotiations with the insurance company were still hanging over her head.
Entering the apartment the back way, she was surprised to find Leo with Erin and Rosalie in the salotto.
In the last couple of days of everyone pulling together – with the exception of Yara, who betrayed her youthful lack of commitment by blithely continuing with her nine-to-five hours and taking her day off – the three seemed to have bonded.
As soon as Jade appeared, Erin jumped to her feet, her bob bouncing, smiling like a cat who knew where its next canary would come from. ‘We have a solution.’ She indicated Leo with a flourish. ‘This man has the money for the pensione.’
‘It’ll work perfectly.’ Rosalie beamed, looking just as excited.
Something slithered unpleasantly in Jade’s stomach. ‘What?’ She looked at Leo. He was smiling too, those grey-blue eyes looking . . . What? Satisfied? Pleased with himself?
He rose to kiss her cheek, laying a hand familiarly on her hip. ‘It’s part of what I was trying to tell you when my family turned up. I sort of mentioned it to Rosalie and Erin without meaning to. Sorry.’
Erin broke in again. ‘Leo can get us out of the shit. He has all this money just sitting there for Three Sisters. Rosalie and I don’t want to go home worrying about you struggling with it all on your shoulders.’
Disappointment slid over Jade like an icy shroud. ‘What?’ she whispered again, but this time with deadly calm, even while she felt she was coming apart at the emotional seams. Her gaze locked on Leo, who was beginning to look puzzled at her tone.
Every event and emotion of this summer seemed to coalesce inside Jade. Anger. Worry. Loss. Grief. A lot of rage and nowhere to put it.
Geneva. Erin. Rosalie.
Leo.
Leo’s perfect . . . He has all the money . . . Rosalie and I . . . worrying . . . everything taken off you. You won’t have it . . . She shook off Leo’s hand. ‘Don’t tell me that you’ve persuaded my dear sisters to sell you this nice little pensione that you can run alone?’
A moment of perfect silence.
‘Erm . . .’ Rosalie sounded uncertain.
‘Persuaded . . . ?’ Leo took a step back, his jaw setting angrily.
‘Talk about leaping to conclusions! I offered to put up repair money until the insurance pays out – if you need it.’ His lips turned white.
‘But nice to know you think I’d connive behind your back to manipulate you into the very last thing you want. ’
‘Oh.’ Jade blinked, trying to re-hear Erin’s sentences and see where she’d misconstrued.
But Leo went on inexorably, bitterly. ‘Do you feel better now, Jade? Did it give you perverse satisfaction to think that you were right all along? That I’d fail you?
That we’ve been colluding to get Three Sisters from you?
’ His phone began to ring, but he ignored it.
‘All we were trying to do is ensure you could continue here and be happy.’ He spun on his heel and stalked out into the hall.
Then the apartment door shut with a snap.
Rosalie sighed. ‘Oh, Jade. You’ve been suspicious of us from the start. Why couldn’t you listen instead of going off on one? I can’t imagine that Leo will want to rescue us now.’
The strength seeped from Jade’s knees and she plummeted onto a sofa.
Emptily, automatically, she said, ‘I – we – don’t need rescuing.
Don’t you have the slightest idea about business?
This property is in a historic, desirable area and has a high value, even with a dodgy roof.
The bank or a commercial finance house would lend against it, but we have comfortable reserves anyway.
I’ll get legal advice to deal with the insurance company, if I need it.
They haven’t even said no yet. Leo must have thought our financial situation was bleak if you went to him as if I’ve already tried and failed to find a solution.
’ Her voice rose. ‘Didn’t I specifically tell you to leave it to me?
It’s my fucking job.’ Maybe they needed a swearword before they’d understand anything.
But then Jade found herself clutching her chest as it hit her what she’d said to Leo – how insulting and unjust he must have found it.
She knew from personal experience how hard it was to hand over your heart and have it tossed back stamped rejected.
‘Hell.’ Erin’s Scottish accent was much in evidence. ‘We’ve fucked things up for you with Leo.’
‘Well.’ Jade covered her eyes. ‘I think I more than played my part in that. So, it’s up to me to unfuck it. And that’s my job too, so keep out of it, OK?’
‘OK.’ They hung their heads like naughty children.
Jade had to find Leo, explain that she’d just been overwhelmed with bad news and awash with emotions over what Geneva had said. Her mind had played tricks. She sprang to her feet.
But as she hurried from the apartment and into Reception, an older lady in a voluminous dress stumped through the front doors, fanning her red, sweating face with a straw sunhat.
Though Jade smiled automatically and sang out a friendly greeting, her mind was on catching up with Leo .
. . until the lady tottered up the first two steps of the marble staircase.
Paused. Teetered. And crashed backwards at Jade’s feet, her head making a terrible thunk as it hit the marble floor.
‘Oh, no.’ Jade fell to her knees beside the ominously still form.