The Italian's Rightful Bride Part 7

'We use those too,' Joanna told him. 'But we also have radar, laser photography and computers. There's a ma.s.s of equipment in the trucks.'

Gustavo saw Billy in a corner, peering at the screen of a laptop and tapping something in with the ease of familiarity, and talking to Renata, who hung on to his every word. He watched them with satisfaction, and exchanged a glance with Joanna.

'Thank you,' he said quietly. 'He's just what she needs right now.'

'I think she's giving him something that he needs too,' she mused.

'Yes, I imagine hero-worship can be very heady wine when you're ten,' he agreed, smiling.

Casually he strolled over to the children, looking at the screen, asking about it. Billy answered cheerfully, and even Renata, Joanna was glad to notice, gave him a faint smile. When he spoke directly to her she began to explain something to him. Glad for him, Joanna edged discreetly forward.

'You're really learning about this fast,' Gustavo was saying to his daughter.

'Joanna says I'm good at it,' Renata told him solemnly.

'She is,' Joanna confirmed. 'She never has to be told anything twice.'

'Bright girl.' Gustavo smiled at his daughter. She smiled back at him, and for once there was no strain in her face.

Please, let it always be like this for him, Joanna thought.

Something was making Gustavo do everything right. He pointed at the screen, declared himself baffled and begged enlightenment. Renata was happy to oblige until she got stuck.

'No-wait- Billy, is that the right word?' she asked.

'No, you mean-hang on.' His cellphone had shrilled. Holding it up, he grinned at something that appeared on the screen. 'It's my dad,' he told them. 'He sends me bad jokes by text message, and boy, is that a really bad joke! In fact, my dad can think of worse bad jokes than anyone else's dad in the world.'

'I reckon I could manage a few,' Gustavo said quickly.

'Nah! Dad's the champion bad joker. Top of the cla.s.s. I think he's even got a degree in it. Look at that!'

'What does it mean?' Renata asked, peering at the English words.

He explained, but she was still puzzled.

'I think it lost something in translation,' Gustavo said, touching her lightly on the shoulder.

'That's the trouble with really bad jokes,' Billy said solemnly. 'When you try to explain them, they die a horrible death.'

'I'm sure you can think of one even worse to send back,' Joanna observed. 'After all, he may be the master bad joker, but you're not his son for nothing.'

'You bet!'

Billy began to key in letters with practised fingers, then triumphantly transmitted the text. The answer came a moment later and made him yell with laughter.

'That is the worst joke ever,' he crowed.

'Don't let him get away with that,' Joanna said. 'You can beat it.'

He did so, receiving a response almost at once. The others crowded around, joining in with suggestions that grew sillier and sillier, until they reached a riotous peak of silliness, and everyone was laughing.

Everyone except Renata. At some moment she had seen the contrast between Billy's experience and her own silent phone. Her face stiffened as though she was fighting back the tears with an effort.

Joanna met Gustavo's eyes, signalling a frantic message to him. He tried to draw the child close to him but she pulled away as all the hostility, so briefly abated, came flooding back. The next moment she'd dashed out of the tent.

Gustavo made as if to follow her but Joanna shook her head and he stopped, held back by an instinctive trust in her as she went out to find Renata.

The little girl had jumped down into the dig and was sitting with her back to a low wall that had just been revealed. Her arms were folded on her knees, and her head rested on them in an att.i.tude of silent despair.

Joanna jumped down and went to sit beside her, touching her arm lightly.

'I'm sorry that upset you,' she said.

'It didn't, not really,' Renata said defiantly. 'It just reminded me how much I miss Mamma. She called this morning, to say how much she loved me, and plan our escape. It's going to be very soon, but you won't tell Papa, will you?'

'No, I won't tell him,' Joanna said softly.

There would be no need, she thought, sensing Gustavo approach and stand just out of sight.

'Because if he knew-' Renata's voice wobbled '-he'd try to stop me.'

'Perhaps that's because he loves you,' Joanna suggested. 'I think he loves you so much that he can't bear to do without you. Did you ever think of that?'

Renata shook her head vigorously.

'Well, perhaps you should. After all, think how lonely he must be! You're all he has left. How can you think of leaving him all alone in this great place?'

For a moment she thought she'd got through. Renata's face cleared for a moment, but then she said, 'But Papa made Mamma and little Toni go away. Why would he do that if he was going to be lonely?'

'I don't think it was quite like that. Perhaps you should ask him to talk to you about what happened.'

'But I try to talk to him. He just puts me off and won't tell me anything properly, so I know he's lying to me.'

'He's not lying. There are just some things he finds very difficult to talk about. He needs you to help him, and look after him.'

'Look after Papa?' Renata said in a tone of disbelief. 'He doesn't need anyone to look after him.'

'Oh, if you only knew how wrong you are!'

Renata jumped to her feet.

'I'm not, I'm not. I hate you, and I hate Papa. I hate everyone but Papa most. I hate him, I hate him, I hate him! I hate him, I hate him, I hate him!'

She jumped up and ran away. Billy came out of the tent and started running after her.

'Not in this heat!' Joanna called.

'It's all right.' That was Hal, heading for the nearest truck. 'I'll catch them up and take them back to the house.'

'Thanks, Hal.' She went to the tent entrance. 'Everyone back to the house for lunch.'

As she'd hoped they jumped at her suggestion. The next moment the cars were roaring away towards the house, leaving Joanna and Gustavo alone.

He had walked a little way off, stopping beneath the shade of a tree, his back to her. She could only imagine the agony this must be for him. To hear the child he loved more than anything in the world scream that she hated him. Could there be any pain greater?

Torn with sympathy for him, she walked up and touched him gently on the shoulder.

'It doesn't mean anything, Gustavo. All children say these things.'

'Yes,' he said, not turning round. 'They say them in tantrums about trivial things, but this wasn't trivial. Her heart is breaking, and she meant every word.'

Then he looked round, and she could clearly see that he had been weeping. He was past trying to hide it. The tears were still on his cheeks.

'Thank you for what you tried to do,' he said huskily.

'You know I'll help you all I can, Gustavo, but I don't understand. Where does Renata get this fixation from?'

'When Crystal walked out Renata saw her leaving and came flying downstairs, trying to hold on to her. Crystal said she'd send for her "later" and got into the car. Renata tried to get in with her, and that was when I grabbed her, to stop her getting hurt.'

'So that's the origin of the story of you keeping her away from Crystal?'

'Yes. I'm not sure she even remembers the reality any more. I'm the monster who s.n.a.t.c.hed her from her mother's arms, and she's told herself that so often that it's become "fact". Crystal never did send for her, and this is the only way she can cope with it.'

'I'll talk to her again when she's calmed down,' Joanna promised. 'Or maybe I'll route some of it through Billy. She might listen to him.'

He tried to smile and speak normally.

'I'm lucky to have you two here, because without you I don't...' But it was too much. The next moment he broke.

'What am I going to do?' he whispered. 'Help me, Joanna. I've n.o.body else to turn to. Help me! Help me!'

She put her arms around him, holding him consolingly, feeling him cling to her tightly, desperately.

'My dear, of course I will. I'll do anything I can. Hold on to me. It'll be all right, you'll see. I promise it's going to be all right.'

CHAPTER FIVE.

WHEN evening came Joanna didn't go back to the house for dinner, but stayed at the dig while the sun set. More than anything she wanted to be alone now. The events of the day had shaken her. evening came Joanna didn't go back to the house for dinner, but stayed at the dig while the sun set. More than anything she wanted to be alone now. The events of the day had shaken her.

She'd come to Montegiano prepared to fight off any renewal of the old pa.s.sionate feelings. What she hadn't antic.i.p.ated was finding him wounded, so that her heart yearned towards him in sympathy. That would be harder to resist. Perhaps impossible.

She looked up as she heard his car approach. She'd wondered if he would come seeking her, and decided that he probably would not. The moment when he'd come into her arms seeking comfort had not lasted. Afterwards he had been edgy, nervous, insisting on driving her back to the house for lunch. That was another reason why she had avoided dinner that evening.

As he got out of the car he was smiling as though everything was normal, and she realised that he was determined to act as if nothing had happened. He was probably ashamed that she'd seen his 'weakness', she thought wryly.

'I brought you some food,' he said. 'They told me you weren't at supper.'

So he hadn't been there either.

'Thanks,' she said, 'but you didn't have to bother. I've had a sandwich and I've got a beer.' She waved the can.

'That's not enough for someone working long hours in the heat,' he said, unwrapping some chicken for her. 'You'll be ill if you don't take care.'

'I'm invulnerable,' she said lightly. 'Nothing ever hurts me.'

'It's people who talk that kind of nonsense who get hurt,' he informed her. 'You should have more common sense.'

'Oh, stuff! I was always famous for my common sense. People used to say of me "She may be as dull as ditch-water but you've got to admit she has common sense".'

'Then I guess you lost your common sense when you stopped being dull,' he said. 'Except that you never were.'

'Didn't I bore your head off, talking history all the time?'

'n.o.body bores me by talking about my home,' he said. 'Even then I was impressed by your knowledge.'

'But we were supposed to be a courting couple,' she reminded him, teasing. 'And there we were, talking about Julius Caesar.'

'It wasn't always Julius Caesar.'

'That's right. We touched on Lucrezia Borgia as well. There's something not quite right about that, if only I could put my finger on it.'

He joined in her laughter. They had slipped back into their usual way of talking, which, she guessed, was what he'd wanted.

She put the beer can to her lips, throwing her head back and draining it like a man, finishing with a sigh of pleasure.

'You've got foam on your mouth,' he said, taking out a clean handkerchief.

'Thank you.' She stood quietly until he'd finished dabbing her lips.

'I don't think you take proper care of yourself,' he said.

'I don't need to fuss about myself. I have everything I want. Look.' She indicated the half-revealed foundations stretching away from them.

As she said it a different look came over her face, as though she could see something that was hidden from him.

'Joanna,' he said uncertainly.

She touched his hand and moved away slowly, descending the few shallow steps that led down to where the foundations were beginning to show, and even some tiles. As he watched she dropped to her knees and ran her fingertips over the tiles, where the outline of a pattern was just visible.

Then she stood up and looked out over the whole dig, stretching over most of an acre, her face blazing with pride. She did not speak, but she didn't need to. She couldn't have said more clearly, This is my kingdom.

'Joanna,' he said softly.