Broken Chord Read Free Page B

Avvocato Martinelli’s getting on a bit.”
    “Maybe. The trouble is that sitting tenants have the law on their side and they know it.”
    They sat in silence for a moment. They had been with Ursula for twenty-five years, following her from country to country, villa to villa, through marriages and liaisons, privy to all the family secrets, yet still not quite part of the family. They were paid servants, and yet as familiar to the family as kitchen cats. Theywere often ignored, occasionally petted, leaned on when necessary and most importantly, they were always there; loyal, devoted and reliable. Childless, they had parented Ursula’s off-spring, helping them through the upheavals as they changed step-father, or house, or country and school. Rootless, they had provided roots for Tebaldo, Marianna and Lapo, who they thought loved them but, had their mother decided to throw them out, would have watched them leave without protest. They were dependents, and as such dispensable.
    “Lapo didn’t come back last night,” Piero said.
    “No.” She grimaced. “Madam didn’t say anything.”
    “She never does.”
    “What’s to say?” They looked at each other.
    They both looked up as they heard the door open and then Lapo was in the kitchen, blonde curls, blue eyes, the face of an angel with the body of a gargoyle, and the behaviour of the devil, intelligent and cunning, and when the occasion arose, quite charming. Marta loved him desperately. She always had. His deformed body that she longed to straighten out for him, endeared him to her so much that she ignored all his faults and condoned all his actions, no matter how terrible.
    “Lapo! Are you hungry?” She couldn’t hide her pleasure at this unexpected intrusion.
    “Starving, dear, lovely Marta. Tell me there’s something left for me.” His blue eyes were laughing at her.
    She grinned at him. “Where have you been?”
    “Ah, that’s a secret.”
    “Oh well, I don’t want to know your secrets. Now let me see what I can give you. Do you want pasta?”
    He shook his head,
    “I’ve got some quiche and I can make a salad. Would that be OK?”
    “Fine. Can I eat here with you two?”
    “We’ve already eaten but we’ll keep you company.” Marta couldn’t keep the happiness out of her voice. She loved it when Lapo sat with them in the kitchen.
    Lapo’s eyes slid round and fixed on Piero’s glass as though guessing the age of the whisky he was drinking. “Have another drink Piero.”
    “No, thank you. One’s enough for me. I’m not much of a drinker, as you know.” There was a brief silence, heavy with unsaid words. Marta prepared the food and set it down in front of Lapo.
    “Have they gone to the Contessa’s?”
    “Of course.”
    “Ah, the lovely Fiona and the never-aging Ubaldo. I’m sure she’s had him stuffed. He never changes.”
    Marta stifled a laugh.
    “Is Marianna in?”
    “Yes,” she replied in a guarded tone.
    “With her friend?”
    “I don’t know.”
    “Oh yes you do, Marta. Anyway I know you, when you say ‘I don’t know’, what you mean is ‘yes’.”
    Marta gave a brief smile.
    “Did Mamma tell you she’s going to marry Guido?”
    “Yes.”
    “And, no comment, is that it?”
    Piero shifted in his chair. “It’s not our business to approve or disapprove of anything your mother does.”
    Lapo laughed, “That’ll put your nose out of joint, Piero.”
    “Not at all. Why should it?”
    “Come on, he’ll be checking on the level in the whisky bottles for one thing and everything else that you consider your personal domain. ‘The times they are a changin’,” he sang.
    “It will be up to your mother if any changes are to be made.”
    “She’ll want her husband to be happy, don’t you think?” he said, and then began to eat very fast, shovelling the food down as quickly as he could, without any pretence of elegance or even good manners. He ate like an animal.
    As soon as he had finished, he pushed the plate