Beyond The Island Read online

  Afraid to break the spell Joanne squeezed his hand, too emotional to speak. In a daze she opened the car door and stepped out while joy such as she’d never felt swept through her.

  She gathered her wits. ‘I’m certain Renzo will organise another sailing trip,’ she said with a frown. ‘Nothing else would prevent me meeting you.’ She hesitated, ‘I can’t help feeling obligated to accept his offer to crew. He’s been a generous instructor.’

  She thought Fabio was about to say something but instead he smiled encouragingly. ‘I do understand your predicament.’ His voice grew strong. ‘I’ll think up something then, you’ll see.’

  Happily, Joanne replied, ‘Perhaps I could pretend to be ill this time!’ But her jest was lost as cars hooted them. The little Morgan car was blocking the traffic.

  Fabio turned on the engine and raised his voice, ‘I’ll wait for your call – I’m free tomorrow.’ His voice broke. ‘I really am falling in love with you, Joanne.’

  ‘Me too,’ she murmured, but he couldn’t have heard.

  She took a quick look about aware how Renzo had a knack of suddenly appearing.

  ‘Take care, my love.’ Fabio blew her a kiss as the engine roaring he drove away.

  Filled with elation for how things had been resolved after the spat in the Gardens, Joanne watched the car disappear into the traffic. She stepped lightly along as she made her way into the town and began to rationalise her situation. Why should it matter if Renzo suspects I’ve guessed the way he operates business?

  Chapter 14

  It was Renzo’s habit to come and join her for coffee in the hotel at breakfast, so it would be hard to avoid him without alerting his suspicions. Besides, she still wished to continue improving her sailing skills.

  As if on cue after she’d finished her breakfast, Joanne found Renzo seated in the lounge reading a newspaper. Nevertheless, a quiver of tension increased her pulse rate as she recalled the horror of those places on the Islet. She hovered in the doorway and prepared a pleasant greeting and then walked briskly towards him. ‘Good morning, Renzo, how nice to find you here this morning!’ She imbued her smile with brightness.

  ‘Buongiorno, Joanne. I’m delighted to see you looking fresh and pretty as usual. Care for another coffee?’ He folded his newspaper.

  ‘Mmm that would be good, thank you,’ she nodded.

  Joanne sipped her coffee and Renzo sat back, selected an apple from a bowl of fruit and began to peel it carefully.

  ‘I’ve been considering how you might like to spend your last few days here,’ he said, glancing up at her. ‘It occurred that you may like to visit the Balzarin Winery this morning. Or perhaps,’ he added quickly, ‘as an alternative,’ he nodded towards the sunny view through the window, ‘since the weather is favourable, it’s perfect for a morning sail along the coast.’

  He made it difficult to refuse. She shook her head and pretended a look of regret. ‘If you won’t think it discourteous Renzo – that is, if I decline your offer to the Winery or for a sail? I actually assumed you’d be busy this morning and so made other plans.’

  Renzo’s eyebrows shot up. ‘I see – at least I don’t see what takes precedence over...’ he clearly thought better of his remark. ‘I too would prefer not to visit the place associated with my work on such a pleasant day.’ His mouth curled and he conceded, ‘As I mentioned before, you must not feel tied to me, Joanne.’

  It struck her as challenging. Oh dear, Joanne brooded. Now what? In an attempt to placate him she lifted her hands and shrugged. ‘It’s marvellous sailing Bountiful with you, Renzo. I’ve learned so much – great memories to take back to Rome but I find I have one or two things I must do.’

  ‘I understand,’ Renzo replied tersely. With a frown he added, ‘I hope you don’t mean that’s the last of our sailing?’ He spoke levelly and focused on the apple.

  She thought quickly, unwilling to sound ungrateful. ‘No, no. I’d love to sail more. How are you fixed for later this afternoon?’ Joanne guessed the offer to take her to the Winery hadn’t been a serious option; he was playing cat and mouse again. She was certain he must have received one of those reports from his staff and already knew she’d visited the Winery and maybe also heard she’d asked questions about the cheap labour force. She determined he wouldn’t unsettle her by his attitude, even when Renzo remained silent and didn’t comment on the afternoon sail but began to cut the fruit into eight precise portions.

  Disquieted, Joanne felt tension build up between them and aware Renzo waited for her to enlarge on her plans, it came to her what to say. ‘Actually, I have an errand at the shops to undertake. It involves something I have in mind for a person who sits just within...’

  Renzo jerked upright. ‘Oh my dear Joanne, what can I say? There’s no need to provide excuses for any of your plans.’

  She ignored the patronising way he’d addressed her, his face alight with expectation and Joanne knew she’d solved her problem. Thank goodness she mused, because his present is already bought and only awaits the right time to give it him.

  She was unprepared as Renzo spoke again between little bites. ‘May I please ask that you at least save your last day for me? It must be spent sailing don’t you agree, a longer sail to test what you’ve learned? It will be a surprise destination,’ he stated, and gave her another searching look. His mouth moved with a warm smile but the pupils of his brown eyes were like pin points.

  Joanne attempted to hide her dismay. Her remaining time on the Island was all too precious and she longed to spend it with Fabio. Nevertheless, the habit of concealing her emotions from Renzo allowed her to grin as if she couldn’t contain her excitement. After all, she’d fallen in with Renzo’s offer, hadn’t she? It was his holiday too and now he was entitled to expect her to crew.

  She made sure her expression gave nothing away. ‘Thank you Renzo, a longer sail somewhere secret sounds intriguing. You know, thanks to your tuition I already feel a good sailor.’

  Renzo beamed. He nodded, ‘I’m delighted, Joanne; you’ve come up to every expectation. Perhaps we can soon discuss the matter of my proposal - about the Sailing School? I’m making headway with plans for it.’ He popped a segment of apple into his mouth like a fish gobbling a minnow. Joanne stared as he concentrated on cutting the remaining portions into further equal size tiny pieces.

  Was that how he saw his activities? Joanne pondered, as she watched how precise the portions of apple were cut – his illegal operations sharply divided from his social life? Despite her resolve not to care whether Renzo suspected her, she breathed deeply knowing he believed her morning would be spent shopping for his gift.

  Renzo pushed back his chair and stood. ‘I have business to attend to,’ he said. ‘We’ll meet soon, Joanne,’ and with a courteous nod he strode from the lounge.

  Back in her room, Joanne exchanged the blue jeans and T shirt she’d worn at breakfast for something more attractive for her outing with Fabio. Please, please, she prayed, don’t let this be my last chance to be with him.

  She selected a bright yellow cotton dress and high heeled strappy sandals from the cupboard while her thoughts raced ahead. A horrible thought filled her mind as she quickly dressed.

  Various options ran through her head. Thinking of Fabio’s welfare, her mind shadowed with sadness. Perhaps she must ask Fabio not to take her seriously. In a fit of remorse for the possibility she’d put him in an awkward position, she almost braved herself to call off their arrangement to meet. But as she cradled the phone her wayward fingers refused to carry it through. Her heart would not allow it.

  Instead she sent a text asking if he could meet her at Gianni’s this morning. Joanne’s mind firmed. It was up to Fabio. If he had second thoughts and made excuses, she must try to come to terms with it.

  Within a few minutes, Fabio’s reply appeared on her phone. She translated the Italian. Message received with pleasure. See you there at 11am. Fabio xx

  Joanne’s pulse quickened but she deter
mined not to put pressure on Fabio. His sister’s interests came first.

  ***

  Lacco Ameno proved everything she could have wished. ‘We’ll take a roundabout route before visiting the town,’ Fabio suggested, ‘just on the off chance Renzo has tailed you and is following in a taxi.’ He noticed her flinch and winked at her. ‘No, sorry Joanne; I shouldn’t have joked. Please don’t worry though. I’ll take a more circuitous route so I can enjoy you sitting beside me for longer. I can reassure you there’s no likelihood of Renzo stooping to such measures even if he suspected you’d found out his operations are not above board – which I very much doubt. Renzo operates on a different plane.’

  ‘That’s reassuring, thank you. I’m sorry to have burdened you with my worries Fabio. Please don’t do anything rash on my behalf.’ Joanne firmed her voice. ‘I’m afraid I’ve caused you trouble. I’d hate to be responsible for Angelina learning anything bad about Renzo.’

  For answer, Fabio briefly placed a hand on hers. ‘You haven’t burdened me; but you certainly have brought me happiness not trouble, and I assure you Angelina won’t be any the wiser about Renzo’s operations,’ he insisted ‘Now let’s relax and enjoy the day together.’

  It seemed as if a myriad beam of light shone down on them, her excitement intense. Joanne marvelled at the ancient little town with its pastel painted houses and its own tiny beach and harbour. ‘This is how I always imagined the Island!’ she exclaimed, and felt Fabio’s warm expression as he glanced toward her. Traffic was banned from the steep narrow streets lined with pretty houses that meandered up through the ancient part of the town. The chic little shops and lovely restaurants were not crowded. She wanted to tell Fabio about her unpleasant encounter with Marco, but resolved not to spoil anything with more of her uncertainties.

  In his company Joanne recovered her usual high spirits, amused to see the local old men who sat glued to benches in the town square, leaning on walking sticks as they presumably talked of the olden days. ‘Is that how you’ll spend your twilight hours?’ she teased, nodding in their direction.

  ‘Oh yes – and I’ll bore them over and over again with tales of the beautiful young English girl who charmed me....’

  ‘Idiot!’ Joanne gave him a nudge. A sudden pang caught her unprepared. Fabio didn’t have to buy her friendship; it was enough just to be with him and she marvelled how soon they’d formed a close relationship.

  She recalled how a few days earlier Renzo had presented her with a colourful silk scarf and would accept no refusal. ‘But it’s a gorgeous colour for you, Joanne; it pleases me,’ he pleaded and his mouth lifted in a conciliatory smile.

  ‘But I can’t let you give me presents.’ Joanne had protested. ‘Learning to sail is quite enough.’ She found it embarrassing and yet could hardly decline. Joanne decided if he tried to give her anything else, she’d refuse point blank. In some way, Renzo seemed to be salving a guilty conscience. Did she really pose him some kind of threat? Stop being ridiculous, she’d chided. Except now, she wasn’t so sure.

  ‘Why the worried look?’ Fabio took her arm to guide her through the crowds. ‘Is there any sign that my cousin suspects you’ve caught him out?’ Fabio’s brows met in a frown. ‘Please don’t let it concern you; he’s too involved with his business concerns,’ Fabio reassured. ‘Would you care to go into the Museum? There’s an exhibition of paintings by the early Victorians who visited Ischia. It’s reported to be fascinating.’

  ‘Yes, love to! It always surprises me how people travelled the world in days when every route was hazardous and must have taken many months. I’ve read about women tightly corseted in long skirts travelling in remote places on horseback.’

  Something was niggling at the back of her mind and Joanne tried to find the right moment to tell Fabio about meeting Tom. She hesitated to spoil their pleasant mood, but knew she couldn’t put it off.

  ‘Fabio,’ she released his hand from her arm and stepped back into an alcove before turning to face him. ‘Please don’t think I’ve been underhand. The other day with the aim of seeking answers about Renzo’s activities, I met up with a young man I bumped into once by chance.’

  She saw Fabio’s eyes widen. For a few moments he didn’t speak.

  ‘No, please believe me – he’s a mere acquaintance. He’d given me his phone number in case I was ever at a loose end – I forgot about it until I happened to recall he was doing research on the Island’...about to rush on with the tale, she saw Fabio’s features darken, his brows drawn together.

  ‘Why didn’t you tell me before?’ he interrupted, ‘that you were going to meet this young man and by yourself – I assume he was very young?’

  ‘Yes, a college student. I’ve always been confused about Renzo inviting me to crew and was keen to find out anything that might give a clue to his actions.’

  ‘And are you any clearer?’ Fabio asked sternly. ‘How could this young man help sort out your mind?’

  The erratic noise of scooters racing past and the cloud of fumes from exhausts hardly impinged on her consciousness as Joanne continued, ‘Tom suggested Renzo most likely wanted to relax and sail with someone who didn’t pose any threat; a mere acquaintance with no interest in how he made his wealth,’ she said lamely.

  ‘So, it’s Tom, eh? You’re on familiar terms, then.’

  The fear at losing Fabio came before the thought that this was a typical male reaction. Joanne’s voice firmed. ‘Absolutely nothing like that. Honestly, he’s hardly out of school and off to meet up with his girlfriend soon.’ They stood facing one another like contestants and both ignored the passer-by who gave them a quick glance.

  Fabio raised his eyebrows, clearly not satisfied. ‘So how was it you met?’ he asked, doubt underlying his question.

  Joanne was afraid she’d ruined trust between them and hastened to explain. ‘We’d only exchanged a few polite words on the ferry but he happened to be on that Wine tour I joined and said he’d overheard me asking the tour guide questions about the Winery. I guess he saw we were the only two young English on the tour,’ she offered, improvising a white lie. ‘Before he disappeared, he just gave me his card with a phone number. And said, ‘Get in touch if you find out anything untoward.’’

  She knew that sounded implausible and felt a sinking sensation lodge in her stomach.

  They walked side by side in the direction of the Museum and Fabio took her arm to cross the road. When he didn’t speak she desperately prayed he wouldn’t think her fickle. ‘I thought it only courtesy to give him a call.’ Her laugh sounded nervous. ‘I half expected he’d have left Ischia and when I looked at his card and read, “Environmental Research”, I thought he might be able to throw light on things.’

  She met Fabio’s eyes and then looked away, ashamed of her white lie.

  Fabio gave a deep sigh. ‘Come Joanne, you can tell me the truth, you know. I’m not a fool. Did your contact with this young man have anything to do with that visit to the Winery, or..?’ he left the sentence unfinished.

  ‘I had no idea he was on the tour until we all returned to the bus.’ Joanne’s heart beat slowly, a deep throb behind her ribs. Fabio would never trust her again. She quickly made up her mind there was nothing more to lose by telling him the truth. He was owed that respect. ‘I apologise,’ she said, her voice low when they turned the corner. ‘I see how I’ve gone behind your back. The truth is I’d heard rumours and needed to discover how the Winery operated.’ Her voice strengthened. ‘None of my business, I know, but I sensed there was some other reason why your cousin invited me sailing and I really thought if I knew more about him...’ she tailed off, uncertain how to explain and then as Fabio merely nodded and his face resumed normality she went on, ‘I thought perhaps Tom Saunders had gleaned something; he’s studying the ecology for some sort of project,’ she said firmly.

  Fabio had hurried his steps and Joanne had to run to keep up with him, desperate he was going to leave her. She caught up when he stopped and turned
to look her in the eye.

  ‘And was this Tom able to tell you anything?’

  ‘Tom confirmed what you had already told me – the Winery’s profits are built upon the low wages of immigrant workers. But this is the important point, Tom suspects these poor people are brought here at night illegally on fishing boats.’

  ‘Ah, I see.’ Fabio showed no sign if he was aware of this. He shook his head slowly. ‘I believe I’ve implied already that Renzo’s business deals aren’t necessarily above the law? And that’s your only interest in this young man then Joanne, to see if he can throw light upon your doubts?’

  ‘Yes, it honestly is Fabio. You see, I had no wish to implicate you, that’s all.’

  She watched Fabio’s face smooth and his eyes soften with understanding.

  ‘I apologise, Joanne. It’s the Latin in me,’ he muttered, ‘on guard lest another male steals my favourite. Please forgive me for allowing you to harbour these worries.’

  She hardly heard the last words he spoke. Was she really his favourite? Her pulse raced with relief at his crestfallen look and her feelings for him deepened. They stood close together on the busy pavement with their arms wound around one another. When they broke away, Fabio’s expression was stern. ‘I’ll speak to Renzo. I want to put your mind at ease.’

  ‘No! Please don’t. He’s so generous – taught me so many sailing skills. I’m happy to keep things as they are.’

  ‘Really, you’d rather that?’

  When she nodded fiercely he added, ‘Very well. Promise to tell me if anything at all upsets you? And forgive me, for even thinking you are not sincere. It’s because I can’t let you go.’ His voice broke as he leaned down and murmured against her ear. ‘Say you’ll not leave Ischia without meeting me again?’

  ‘I couldn’t leave you...’ There, she’d said what she really felt.

  Fabio straightened his back and his arm slid away. “Fate, Time, Occasion, Chance, all these things are subject...to love!” Your poet Shelley - misquoted, I believe,’ he said with a grin, ‘but his words express what is true.’