Chapter 36

The flight back to England was a nightmare. It was clear that flying was not one of Carlo’s favourite occupations. The plane, poised at the start of the runway, began to rev up its engines and hurtle forward. The louder the plane’s engines screamed, the shriller the crescendo of noise Carlo emitted, until it seemed impossible one so small could produce such a cacophony of sound. Airborne, the plane’s uproar suddenly decreased, but that had no effect on Carlo who remained intent on producing the maximum possible uproar.

‘Stop that child crying!’ ordered Stefano.

Maria turned to look at him, astonished.

‘How on earth do you expect me to do that? I told you I know nothing about babies – nasty, noisy things!’

‘Haven’t you learned anything from the last few weeks?’

So that was it. That was why they had lingered in Milan all that time. She had been supposed to absorb the intricacies of childcare, in preparation for taking full responsibility for this bellowing brat. As things began to fall into place with uncomfortable clarity she saw how naïve she had been. There was still one aspect of the whole sordid story that kept nagging at her – just at present she couldn’t concentrate enough to think out clearly what it was – but much of what had happened over the last few weeks was beginning to make sense.

She realised that Stefano, who was going to be living and working in England, had decided to find an English wife who wouldn’t know anything about his circumstances back home – someone who would be seduced by his Italian charm. Once he had found a suitable candidate for the role, he would woo the lady with soft words and compliments so that she became putty in his hands.

Then he would rush her into marriage, give her a short but extremely sweet honeymoon, finally bringing her to his family where she would be swept up in the atmosphere of their lively ménage, and the baby would go almost unnoticed.

That was why he wasn’t interested in Claudia. He would have realised that she would have been far too clever to be taken in by any of his plans, and he would not have been able to mould her as he had Maria. So he had settled on the unintelligent sister, who questioned nothing, and took everything at face value. Well, she may not have been the brightest that ever lived, but she knew she was pretty, and that would certainly have appealed to him. He undoubtedly appreciated an attractive girl, and no one in their right mind would actually describe Claudia as pretty, even if she could look quite nice sometimes.

She had fallen easily into every one of his traps, and had ended up, as he had intended, in Milan. Now she knew why she had found herself so often in Carlo’s company – at first with Rosa, or one of the sisters, and then by herself. Stefano had hoped that just as she had fallen for him she would also fall in love with this helpless infant, and all her maternal instincts would come to the fore. He had hoped she would get involved in Carlo’s daily routine, until it became second nature to her to feed, and bathe him, and see to the other disgusting necessities of caring for babies. Well, thought Maria, he had misjudged his new wife. She wasn’t going to be pushed around like that! Anyway, she had her own ideas about married life, and they didn’t include babies for some time yet.

It was hard to think at all with this bundle of rage on her lap, his sole purpose being to shriek incessantly, his tiny body contorted with the agonising emotion to which he gave vent in uncontrollable sobs.

‘You do something!’ she said to Stefano. ‘’You take him – he might calm down then.’

‘I can’t. I’m a man,’ he replied, as though that explained everything. ‘Holy Mother, think of something, Maria, before the whole plane riots!’

A stewardess appeared in the aisle.

‘Would you like a bottle heated, madam?’ she asked.

The warm bottle was brought and Maria stuck it into his mouth. Carlo sucked enthusiastically as though he hadn’t had a feed for days, and the noise subsided.

Maria breathed a sigh of relief. Perhaps that was all you had to do every time he cried – just jam a bottle into his mouth. At least she knew how to do that, thanks to Rosa’s tuition.

Rosa. An image of that poor girl flooded back into Maria’s mind. Suddenly, while everything was peaceful, temporarily, at least, she realised what it was that had been nagging at her. It was that other screaming she had heard when they were driving away, with Maria innocently unaware of the extra passenger in the car. She may not have known that Carlo was coming too, but the others all did. This was obviously part of the plot – that they would take him back with them to England. How she had been manipulated!

She tried to think what had been said about the mother – some cousin, who did not live in Milan, and who was too ill to look after her own baby. She remembered asking questions about this woman, but no one had ever answered her clearly. Well, this was as good a time as any.

‘Stefano, there is something I need to know. After all, I’m your wife and I think I have a right to be informed. You have told me that Carlo is your son – so who is the mother? You said it was a cousin, so why didn’t you marry her, instead of me? After all, if she was ill, and she was having your baby, shouldn’t you be with her, helping her?’

‘Shush, we cannot talk like this on a crowded plane.’

‘We can, and we will. You have been deceitful, and tricked me into doing something you knew I would refuse if you had asked me outright. You have taken it for granted that I will look after your son, so I have a right to know, and if you don’t tell me I shall stand in the aisle and shout out that this baby is not mine! I shall say I have had him foisted on me by a cruel husband. I don’t care what anyone thinks!’

She started to undo her seatbelt, and despite the difficulty of having Carlo on her lap, she managed to pull herself up. Stefano grabbed her and pulled her back down.

‘Sit down, you little fool. Do not play the idiot.’ Then his voice became calmer, and he began to speak more gently.

‘I give you bad time, I know. But you must believe, I wanted you for my wife. You are my bella, my tresore.’

Maria cut to the chase.

‘Never mind all that. Just tell me the facts. I want to know. I have a right to know.’

He hesitated, and as he fumbled for words she realised she could place those heartbroken cries. The scene came back to her. They were all crowding round the car, blocking her view of the back. Someone must have taken the baby and put him in his little cot on the back seat. Someone had taken him out of the arms of …

‘You don’t have to tell me.’ Her tone was icy. ‘I know.’

He nodded. ‘Si,’ he said. ‘The mother is Rosa.’

Carlo, having drained his bottle in a few hungry gulps, decided to start yelling again.