In Italy for Love

Chapter 31

31

Alex had never truly experienced the urge to punch someone. Perhaps that was why the force of his resentment took him by surprise when he finally accepted that the man walking into the courtyard with one hand in his pocket like he owned the place was Luca, the turd who’d hurt Jules, stolen her confidence and destroyed her livelihood.

His grip on her jeans tightened, dragging his concentration out of the haze of anger, disappointment – fear.

‘Alex,’ she hissed. ‘Let me down.’

He resisted, keeping his fist tight in her waistband. He wanted to hold her up, safely away from the fool who’d put the shadows in her eyes. If he just kept his grip on her, maybe Luca’s hold would fade, maybe he’d just go away again and leave her alone – leave her here.

As much as he was angry on her behalf, it wasn’t anger that turned his stomach – it was the fear. Luca spelled the end. The intrusion was a wake-up call: Jules didn’t belong here and as soon as she had her passport, she’d be gone.

Maybe the man had finally realised what he’d lost and come to take her back. She wouldn’t go. He was sure she wouldn’t go. He knew how much Luca had hurt her. But he also knew she’d loved him and love… Love was never entirely rational.

‘Alex!’ she called, more loudly. Arco continued to bark from where she’d tied him up to the bike stand a few metres away.

‘Jules?’ Luca repeated, coming nearer. He peered through the branches to where she was perched at the top of the ladder.

He was well dressed: a casual jacket over dark wash jeans and loafers. He was good-looking and smooth and so totally wrong for Jules that rebellion rose in Alex’s chest. Then Luca’s gaze fixed on Alex’s hand, clenched in her waistband with casual intimacy. The cloud that passed over the man’s expression was ugly.

‘I did not expect to find you up a tree with a stranger’s hand on your arse. And what on earth are you wearing? Did someone drop the sheep into a vat of dye?’

‘Alex, let me down.’

This time he responded to her dark tone, extricating his hand and steadying her around the waist as she descended. He wanted to keep a hand on her, remind her that he was there and he wouldn’t leave her alone, but her rigid body language made him keep his distance – for now. It was probably for the best, given the churn of outrage swimming inside him.

Berengario stepped up to them before Jules could say anything. ‘Do you know this person, Jules?’

‘Of course she?—’

‘Not really,’ she interrupted Luca weakly, walking away to place a quelling hand on Arco’s back, shushing him gently. Unhitching his lead from the stand, she allowed the dog to drag her back to Luca. Arco leaped and turned in wild circles and Alex was reminded that Luca was the one who’d once been in the dog’s pack. Alex had never wanted to be – except that was plainly untrue as he watched Arco greet his former master with joy.

Alex was jealous – because of a dog’s affections and loyalty.

His stomach sank as he admitted to himself that he was jealous for a few more reasons. His hand closed into a fist as he remembered Jules talking in a defeated tone about feeling useless – the way this man had made her feel. He would never hit Luca, but he had a few choice words brewing, if he could get them out around the lump in his throat.

But did he have any right to say them?

Luca fended off Arco with a huff. ‘Still no manners,’ he mumbled. ‘Jules, what is going on? Who are all these people and what were you doing up a tree?’

‘I was picking persimmons – exactly what it looked like,’ she snapped. ‘How did you know where to find me?’

‘Picking…’ He glanced at the tree as though the bright orange fruit confused him. ‘Can we talk somewhere?’

Berengario approached, his expression hard. ‘Yes, why don’t we go inside?’ By the time Alex could see through the haze of feelings he didn’t want, Berengario had invited Jules’s ex into Alex’s kitchen and the rest of the neighbours had piled in after them, all narrow looks and threatening demeanour – especially threatening since everyone was holding harvesting shears.

Luca paused at the door to Alex’s flat, inspecting the fresh label by the doorbell that read ‘Volpe’, just above his own faded ‘Mattelig’. Julia’s ex studying the simple evidence of their cohabitation made Alex squirm.

The man looked nervously from face to face, but took a seat when Berengario gestured for him to do so, sitting down opposite.

‘Caffè?’

‘Ehm, sì grazie.’

Berengario looked up at Alex as though the kitchen were a bar, but if Luca was on the back foot, then he’d play along. As Alex set to work making coffee, Elena and Siore Cudrig and Stefano the tattoo artist took the other seats around the table.

Jules came alongside him and took the moka pot. ‘You don’t have to make him coffee,’ she mumbled.

‘ You don’t have to talk to him.’

‘Unfortunately, I do.’ She pressed the button on the coffee grinder with a little too much force and the loud buzz filled the kitchen.

‘Aren’t I supposed to punch him for you?’

‘I know you wouldn’t.’

‘No,’ he agreed with a shrug. ‘But Berengario is prepared to get rid of him for you.’

She glanced at the tense little gathering, full of too many menacing looks and not enough small talk. Leaning close to speak into his ear, she said, ‘Would he bury Luca in the kitchen garden? I’m not sure the tomatoes would benefit.’

The joke pricked him again with affection, but her eyes were grave. Grasping her forearm, he turned her to him. ‘Are you all right with this?’

‘No,’ she answered faintly, sending spikes of that impotent fury through him again. He wanted to protect her, but it was more than that. He wanted to erase Luca from her past – a realisation that made him panic. If he felt this way about Luca, how did Jules feel about Laura?

When Jules forced herself to turn away from Alex’s comforting presence, what she saw made her pause. Siore Cudrig had on her best pinched expression. The tattoo artist leaned an arm casually on the windowsill, but his eyes were sharp, as though hinting at concealed weapons. And Berengario… His bushy brow had never looked so grim as he studied her ex without flinching.

Jules wanted to laugh – she wanted to cry. These neighbours had watched and gossiped and judged, been gruff and stand-offish at times, but they had their pitchforks lined up now – for her . She almost wished Berengario had brought his scythe.

The sheen of sweat on Luca’s smooth brow suggested he had picked up on the hostility. Just hearing his voice again had made her want to run. Seeing his face made her taste her own failure again, the twinge of memories she’d tried to save but now wanted to erase.

Her thoughts were consumed with possible reasons for his sudden appearance. He hadn’t called. Her feelings swerved from joy at the possibility that they’d sold the B not with the revulsion she felt when she looked at Luca, but with the first sparks of loss. She would lose Alex. Her stupid, irrational heart had forgotten that she had to go – and his heart already belonged to someone else.

His hand landed at her back, fisting in her shirt. How many times had he gripped her like that, as though he couldn’t let her go? How difficult it was to believe what he said and not what he did.

‘Jules,’ Alex said softly, ‘you don’t owe him anything – not your feelings.’

She swallowed, trying to get her racing heart under control. Alex thought she was upset about Luca? It was almost funny.

‘Are you going to talk to me now I’ve come all this way?’ Luca asked with a huff.

‘I didn’t tell you where I was. You could have called instead.’

‘Well, when a letter arrived confirming your postal redirection, I was confused myself. I’d never heard of this place and I have no idea how you found it.’

‘That was the idea,’ she said weakly.

‘But you obviously didn’t realise that the redirection doesn’t work for couriers and I couldn’t exactly give you your passports over the phone, could I?’

‘What?’

He rummaged in his leather shoulder-bag, coming away with two fat envelopes, one of which bore the seal of the Australian High Commission in Milan. No wonder she’d been waiting a little longer than expected for her passports. She took the envelopes automatically, her mind stalling. The letters in her hand were supposed to be the open door to a brighter future, but they felt heavy in her feeble fingers.

Luca continued, ‘You should thank me, really. I came out to this place in the middle of nowhere to give them to you.’

Berengario and the others bristled and Luca eyed them warily.

‘It’s not the middle of nowhere for the people who live here,’ Jules said firmly. ‘Fri?l is the crossroads of Europe.’ She kept her gaze trained on Luca’s stifled sneer. She didn’t dare try to work out what Alex was feeling.

‘“Crossroads of Europe” or “arse of Italy”, I see you’ve settled in well here with these people. Do you even need your passports, now you’ve found your next “passion”?’

She flinched and before she’d had time to react, Alex was pushing forward, nudging her behind him. ‘Don’t blame her for what you did wrong!’ He continued in Italian, but Jules understood enough to know he was accusing Luca of exploiting her and the slap of his palm onto the table was clear.

‘Ehi, stai calmo, amico.’

‘I’m not your friend,’ Alex snapped in reply, switching back to English with a glance at Jules. ‘I’m her friend.’

‘With certain benefits, I can see.’ Luca flashed his eyes from one to the other. ‘I knew you wouldn’t be able to support yourself, but I didn’t expect you’d solve that problem… this way.’

The passports fell from her hand as the words landed like punches. She hadn’t made herself dependent on the men in her life, had she? That wasn’t how it had been with Luca and definitely not with Alex, but she had accepted help – more than she could repay. She’d let Alex feed her and Maddalena and Berengario take care of her and give her purpose. She’d relied on Luca for too long and perhaps she hadn’t broken that cycle.

‘Get out of here!’ Alex’s raised voice startled Jules out of her panic, especially when he added a foul Italian insult she’d learned from television. But he continued in English for her benefit. ‘Now! She doesn’t have to listen to that shit .’ His clenched fist came into focus in her field of vision. He was breathing hard. Even Berengario and the others had frozen, watching the discussion in alarm. Siore Cudrig couldn’t understand a word of English, but her eyes were still huge.

Luca rose to his feet. ‘I still have business?—’

‘Not in my kitchen, you don’t. Take your lies and your delusions and get out!’

‘I think “delusions” might be more apt for your situation, hmm?’ He reached once more into his bag and turned to Jules. She recoiled, but forced herself to face him. ‘We’ve had a few viewings of the B&B. If we get an offer, I’ll need your procura – so I can act on your behalf. Unless you’re not leaving the country after all?’

‘My what?’ she asked, her thoughts a haze.

‘Power of attorney,’ Alex translated. ‘Leave the paperwork here,’ he instructed Luca gruffly. ‘She won’t sign right now.’

Why not? If they could sell the B&B, then she wouldn’t need help from anyone ever again – she wouldn’t need to rely on Alex.

‘I can sign,’ she insisted.

Alex’s grip on her sleeve grew tighter. ‘Do you trust him?’ he asked through his teeth, his body taut.

Squeezing her eyes shut, Jules shook her head. ‘No,’ she admitted. ‘But what else can I do?’

‘We’ll work something out.’

We … There was no ‘we’ unless she counted Arco, and the poor pup was just as wild and abandoned as she was.

‘Leave the paperwork,’ she forced herself to say to Luca. ‘You have my number and I have yours.’

‘You’d better not try to obstruct the sale.’

‘Why would I?’ she asked.

‘I know you were too attached to the place – your Italian dream,’ he said with an ugly chuckle. ‘It would have been kinder to let you down earlier.’

‘ Out! Now!’

Jules had never heard such a wild edge to Alex’s voice.

‘Is he going to hit me?’ Luca asked, his voice high, but his tone still sneering. ‘Where did you find this caveman, Jules? You’ll have simply enormous children.’

She didn’t know if he understood how much his cutting joke hurt, but there was little else he could have said that could catch her straight in the heart. She’d been stupid enough to picture a family with Luca once – in the very distant future, they’d agreed – but with Alex – oh God, the picture was too real and so entirely impossible.

Arco gave a bark as Luca headed for the kitchen door. With a heavy sigh, he turned to the animal and gave him a perfunctory pat on the head. ‘Yes, goodbye, stupid dog.’ Alex gave a sharp gesture to hurry him along, following him into the hallway where the squeak of his loafers faded and then the door clicked firmly shut behind him.

Berengario was on his feet in an instant, grasping Jules’s upper arms and peering into her eyes. ‘Jules,’ he said firmly. When she couldn’t bring herself to look him in the eye, he enfolded her in an embrace and she was mortified to feel the heat of tears on her face.

In a flurry of neighbours, Jules found herself pushed down into a chair, her shoulders squeezed and her back rubbed and a steaming espresso and a biscuit placed in front of her. Siore Cudrig tut-tutted and Jules heard muttered imprecations and a quiet conversation between Berengario and Alex in the garbled language that had become nearly as familiar as standard Italian to her sluggish ear.

Then the kitchen was quiet. Only Alex was left, leaning heavily on the door-frame, his legs and arms crossed in front of him as he stared at the floor with a troubled expression. His hair fell over his forehead and just looking at him brought on the smarting tears again.

There wasn’t anywhere to go from here – except away from him.