Shadows of the Past by Margaret Blake Page B

something that he relished anyway and he and Alva, they shared so much. Even should her memory not return he felt certain they could recapture some of what had been before. As to the rest, that could be sorted out. She was still in love with him, he was certain. He smiled, oh yes, he was certain of that.
    When Rosa came back her colour was heightened. Her eyes sparkling, as if she were excited about something.
    ‘Is everything all right?’ Luca asked.
    ‘Of course, everything is wonderful, Luca. For you at least … but my dear, will you require to renegotiate my lease? That was my lawyer on the telephone; he reminded me that my lease is up next April. It is not too far away.’
    ‘There is nothing to renegotiate, Rosa, I am happy with the terms you have now, if you are?’
    ‘Oh yes, of course,’ she smiled at him. ‘When I first came here Renata was a baby and you had Silvia. I remember when I came to the island and thought I had found paradise. I never realized that I would be living here for a good part of the year.’
    ‘We’ve been friends a long time, Rosa, and I hope we will continue with that friendship. I appreciate how wonderful you have been to Renata, especially after her mother died. Losing her mother at such a tender age would have been traumatic for any girl but the circumstances … ’ He shuddered. ‘Her being there, in the car … ’
    ‘I know how bad it was, Luca. I tried to be a kindly aunt to her. At such times a girl needs a woman’s hand to hold. But you were wonderful too, Luca, suppressing your own pain to deal with Renata’s.’
    Luca looked away from her — she noted it through narrow eyes. Ah yes, she knew what he had felt when his wife had died and that he still felt a little guilty about it!
    ‘But let us toast to our friendship, Luca, long may we share it.’
    Later, in Rosa’s beautifully appointed sitting-room, he surreptitiously glanced at his watch. Alva would wonder where he was. He had left a note on the table in the sunroom but he had said he would be home by four. Now it was past that hour, night was drawing in fast.
    Rosa’s rented villa was on the other, less populated part of the island. It stood high on a cliff overlooking the bay. It was perfect with splendid views; in fact, he realized wryly, nicer views than those at the palazzo.
    The villa had been built by his grandfather — ostensibly to house his mistress — ironic that he then should rent it to a woman he had been tempted to have occupy that position in his life. Even odder that he had not done anything about it — but he could not analyse why that was so. He preferred to keep his reasons buried. It was safer that way.
    It was dark as he drove back to the palazzo. There were no lights on the twisting road and he had his foot on the brake for most of the journey. This was where his first wife had driven off the road. He shuddered still when he thought of it. Beautiful and wilful Silvia, the woman he had married because it was expected of him. He had been nineteen at the time. At that age in his society you did not argue with your father. Although they too had had an attraction at some time, the marriage had not been happy or unhappy; it had been a marriage where both followed their lives. Silvia had been a talented artist and he had never objected to her pursuing her career. Renata was lucky to be alive, for the car had bounced down that steep tree-covered hillside like a toy car. How Renata had lived he would never know.
    Once down from the hills, he speeded along the coast road, only slowing to go around the square, but once he hit the road to his home, he put on some speed. He was eager to see her, to talk to her …
    Inside the palazzo it was very quiet. The light illuminated the large hall; he went across it and down the passageway that led to the sunroom. There were no lights on, he turned on a light. His note had gone.
    Quickly, he went back out, running up the stairs, then along the gallery to his