(1941) Up at the Villa (9 page)

`I've just been telling this girl she's as pretty as a
picture,' said Atkinson, turning to him.

`You're wasting your time, dear boy,' drawled Rowley,
with his engaging smile.

`You might as well pay compliments to the Statue of
Liberty.’

`Turned you down flat, has she?’

`Flat.’

`I don't blame her.’

`The fact is, Mr. Atkinson, that I don't like boys,' said
Mary, her eyes dancing.

`My experience is that no man's worth talking to till
he's fifty.’

`We must get together some time and go into this matter,'
answered Atkinson.

`I believe we've got a lot in common.’

He turned away to shake hands with a guest who had just
arrived.

`You're grand,' said Rowley in an undertone. The
approving look in his eyes encouraged her, but notwithstanding she could not
help giving him a frightened, harassed glance.

`Don't let up. Think of yourself as an actress playing a
part
.•
, I always told you I had no talent for the
stage,' she answered, but with a smile.

`If you're a woman you can act,' he retorted. And that is
what she did during the luncheon to which they soon sat down. On her right was
her host, and she carried on with him a laughing flirtation, which amused and
flattered him; and with her neighbour on the other side, who was an expert on
Italian art, she talked of the Sienese painters. Society in Florence is not
very large and several of the people were there who had been at the dinner the
night before. Princess San Ferdinando, who had been her hostess, was on
Atkinson's right
This
occasioned an incident which
nearly robbed Mary of her composure. The old lady leant across the table to
address Mary.

`I was just telling the Count about last night'
She
turned to Atkinson.

`I'd asked them to come and dine at Peppino's to hear a
man who's got a marvellous voice and, would you believe it, he wasn't there!’

`

 
`I've heard him,'
said Atkinson.

`Mrs. Atkinson wants me to pay for his training. She
thinks he ought to sing in opera.

`Instead they had the most awful fiddler. I talked to
Peppino. He says he's a German refugee and he only gave him a chance out of
charity. He said he wouldn't have him again. You remember him, Mary, don't you?
He was quite impossible.’

`He didn't play very well.’

She wondered if her voice sounded as unnatural to the
others as it did to herself.

`That's putting it mildly,' said the Princess.

`If I played the fiddle like that I'd shoot myself. Mary
felt she must say something. She gave her shoulders a little shrug.

`It must be very difficult for people like that to find
anything to do.’

`It's a bad business,' said Atkinson.

`Young chap, was he?”

‘Yes, hardly more than a boy,' returned the Princess.

`He had quite an interesting head, hadn't he, Mary?’

`I didn't pay very much attention to him,' she replied.

`I suppose they have to dress them up in those absurd
clothes.’

`I didn't know he was a refugee. You know, now I feel
rather badly about it. I suppose it's because I made such a fuss that Peppino
said he'd fire him. I wonder if I could get hold of him, I might give him two
or three hundred lire to carry on with till he finds another job.’

They went on talking about him interminably. Mary shot a
distressed glance at Rowley, but he was at the other end of the table and did
not see her. She had to cope with the
situation ,
alone. At last, mercifully, the conversation changed. Mary felt exhausted. She
continued to talk of one thing and another, to laugh at her neighbour's jokes,
to feign interest, to seem to enjoy herself; and all the time at the back of
her mind, so vividly that it was like seeing a play on the stage, all the
events of the previous night, from beginning to end, unfolded themselves before
her tortured memory. She was thankful when she was at last able to get away.

`Thank you so much; it's been a lovely party. I don't
know when I've enjoyed myself more.’

Mrs. Atkinson, white-haired, kind, shrewd and with a dry
humour, held her hand.

`Thank you my dear. You're so beautiful, you make any
party a success; and Harold's had a grand time. He's a terrible old flirt.’

`He was very nice to me.’

`And so he should be. Is it true that we're going to lose
you soon?' Mrs. Atkinson's tone showed Mary that she was referring to Edgar.
Perhaps the Princess had told her something.

`Who can tell?' she smiled.

`Well, I hope what I hear is true. You know, I look upon
myself as a great judge of character. And you're not only beautiful, you're
good and sweet and natural; I should like you to be very happy.’

Mary could not help the tears filling her eyes. She gave
the kind lady a wan smile and quickly left.

7

W H EN she got home a telegram, just arrived, was waiting
for her: Flying back tomorrow. Edgar. The garden was terraced and there was one
place in it for which Mary had a great affection. It was a little strip of
lawn, like a bowling alley, surrounded by clipped cypresses, and on one side
they had been cut into an arcade in order to give a view, not of Florence, but
of an olive-clad hill on the top of which was a village with old red roofs and
the campanile of a church. The spot was cool and sequestered and here, Mary,
lying on a long chair, sought peace. It was a relief to be alone and .not to
have to pretend. She could surrender herself now to her anxious thoughts. After
some time Nina brought her a cup of tea. Mary told her she was expecting
Rowley.

`When he comes, bring some whisky and a syphon and the
ice’

`Very good, Signora.’

Nina was a young woman who liked to gossip, and she had
now a piece of news that she wanted to impart. Agata, the cook, had brought it
up from the near-by village where she had her own cottage. Some of her
relations there had let a room to one of those
refugees
who swarmed in Italy, and now he had run off, without paying for his board and
lodging, and they were poor people and could not afford to lose the money. He'd
never had anything but the clothes he stood up in, and the things he had left
behind him wouldn't fetch five lire. They'd let him owe money for three weeks
because he was so simpatico, and they were sorry for him, but it was a dirty
trick to bolt like that; it was a lesson and it just showed that you were never
repaid for the kindnesses you did people.

`Where did he go?' asked Mary.

`He went out yesterday evening to go and play the violin
at Peppino's - why, that was where the Signora dined last night; he said that
when he came back he'd give Assunta money. But he never came back. She went
down to Peppino's and they told her they knew nothing about him. He didn't give
satisfaction and they said he needn't come again. But he had some money. You
see, he got his share of the plate; one lady put in a hundred lire,
and .
. Mary interrupted. She didn't want to hear any more.

`Find out from Agata how much he owed Assunta. I - I
don't like the idea of her suffering because she did someone a kindness. I will
pay.’

`Oh, Signora, that would be such a help to them. You see,
with both their sons doing their military service and earning nothing, it's a
job they have to keep going. They fed him, and food's expensive these days.
It's us, the poor people, who have to suffer for making Italy into a great
nation.’

`That'll do. You can go now.’

That was the second time that day that she had had to
listen to someone speaking of Karl. Mary was seized with terror. It looked as
though that unhappy man, whom no one bothered about while he was alive, now
that he was
dead
was in some uncanny way calling
attention to himself. A remark of the Princess's recalled itself. She had said
that because she had been the cause of his losing his job she wanted to do
something for him. She was a woman of her word and would seek him out; and she
was an obstinate woman; if she could not find him she would move heaven and
earth to discover what had become of him.

`I must get away from here. I'm frightened.’

If only Rowley would come! At the moment he seemed her
only refuge. She had brought Edgar's wire in her bag; she took it out and read
it once more. That was a way of escape. She began to think intently. At last
she heard her name called.

`Mary.’

It was Rowley. He appeared at the end of the grass plot
and slouched towards her with his hands in his pockets; there was no elegance
in his gait, but a lounging ease which in such a disreputable fellow would to
some have seemed out of place, but which just then was strangely reassuring to
Mary. He was entirely unruffled.

`Nina said I'd find you here. She's bringing along a
drink that I badly want. Jove,
it's
hot walking up
that hill of yours.’

He gave her a scrutinizing glance.

`What's the matter? You don't look any too good.’

`Wait till Nina has brought the drinks.’

He sat down and lit a cigarette. When Nina came he
chaffed her gaily.

`Now, Nina, what about all these babies that the Duce
says every Italian woman should provide the State with? It doesn't look to me
as though you were doing your duty.’

`Mamma mia, it's hard enough to feed oneself these days.
How am I going to feed half a dozen brats?' But when she was gone he turned to
Mary.

`What is it?' She told him of the incident at luncheon
when the Princess had spoken of Karl and what Nina had just told her. He
listened attentively.

`But, my dear, there's nothing in all that to get the
wind up about. Jittery, that's
what's the matter with you
.
He thought he'd got a permanent job and got fired; he owed his landlady money.
He'd promised to pay her and hadn't got enough.
Supposing
he's found?
He shot himself and he had plenty of motives.’

What Rowley said certainly sounded reasonable. Mary
smiled and sighed.

`I suppose you're right. I've got the jitters. What
should I do without you, Rowley?’

`I can't think,' he chuckled.

`If we'd been caught last night - what would have
happened to us?’

`We should have got it in the neck, dear heart.’

Mary lisped.

`You don't mean that we should have-gone to prison?' He
looked at her with smiling ironical eyes.

`It would have wanted a hell of a lot of explanation, you
know. Two English people careering round the country with a corpse. I don't
quite see how we could have proved he shot himself. Either you or I might have
shot him.’

`Why should you?'

'A dozen reasons would occur to the fertile imagination
of a cop. We went off together last night from Peppino's. People tell me that I
haven't got the best reputation possible where women are concerned. You're an
almost perfect specimen of the genus peach. How could we have proved that there
wasn't something between us? I might have found him in your room and killed him
out of jealousy; he might have caught us in compromising circumstances, and I
might have killed him to save your reputation. People do these damn-fool things.’

`You were taking a most awful risk.’

`Don't mention it.’

`I was so upset last night I didn't even thank you. It
was frightful of me. But I am grateful, Rowley. I owe everything to you. Except
for you I think I should have killed myself. I don't know what I've done to
deserve that you should do so much for me.’

He looked at her steadily for a moment and then gave a
good-natured, casual smile.

`My dear, I'd have done it for any pal. I'm not quite
sure if I wouldn't even have done it for a total stranger. You know, I like
risk. I'm not really a law-abiding person and I got a grand thrill out of it.
Once at Monte I had a thousand pounds on the turn of a card, that was a thrill
too; but nothing to this. By the way, where's the gun?’

`I have it in my bag. I dared not leave it in the house
when I went out to lunch. I was afraid Nina would find lt.’

He stretched out his hand.

`Let me have your bag.’

She did not know why he asked for it, but passed it over
to him. He opened it, took out the revolver and put it in his pocket.

`Why are you doing that?' He leaned back lazily in his
chair.

`I take it that sooner or later the body will be found.
I've been thinking it over and I believe that the gun should be found with it.’

Mary smothered a cry of fright.

`You're not going back to that place?’

`Why not?
It's a lovely
afternoon and I want exercise badly. I rented a bike. There's no reason why I shouldn't
ride along the high road and then have an impulse to take a side one with the
idea of having a look at that picturesque village on the top of the hill.’

`Someone might see you go into the wood.’

`I shall certainly take the elementary precaution of
looking about to see that no one is around.’

He got up.

`You're not going now?’

`I think so. As a matter of fact it's not much of a wood;
I didn't tell you last night, because I thought you'd get more scared than
ever, and there was no time to look further. I don't think you can expect that
he won't be found pretty soon.’

`I shall live agonies till I know you're safely back
again.

`Will you?' He smiled.

`I'll look in on my way home. I dare say I shall be ready
for another drink.’

`Oh, Rowley!’

`Don't be afraid. The devil's a sportsman and looks after
his own.’

He went off. To wait for him now was a torture such that
beside it all she had gone through before seemed trifling. It was no good
telling herself that compared with the risk which they had taken last night
this was nothing; that, at the moment at all events, had seemed inevitable, but
this was needless; he was putting his head in the lion's mouth for the fun of
the thing, because he was getting pleasure out A exposing himself to danger.
She grew on a sudden angry with him. He had no right to do such stupid things;
she should have prevented him. But the fact was that when he was there taking
it all in that breezy, humorous way, it was almost impossible to see things in
their proper light. She had a feeling moreover, that when he had made up his
mind to do a thing it would need a great deal to dissuade him.
A strange man.
Who would have guessed that his flippant
manner concealed so much determination? `Of course he's been hopelessly
spoilt,' she said irritably. At last he returned. She heaved a great sigh of
relief. You had only to look at him, strolling jauntily towards her, a mocking
smile on his lips, to know that everything had gone well. He threw himself in a
chair and helped himself to a whisky and soda.