Bella (13 page)

 After we had finished eating we sat down and had a few
drinks; I tried making conversation with Victoria although it was extremely
difficult. Tammy noticed how hostile she was with me and asked her what her
problem was. Victoria sneered.

  
“
If only you knew what
secrets there are in this family.
”
Victoria had drunk too much and Simon tried to calm her
down, because things were getting out of hand. I told him it was best he took
Victoria home. As she was leaving she looked straight at me and said.

  
“
I know this family
’
s secret.
” 
I looked at Victoria calmly and wondered what
on earth she was talking about.

  
“
I know everything,
every secret there is to know. Simon is mine.
”

 Tammy butted in.

“
What in God
’
s name are you talking about Victoria?
”

 
“
You had better ask
Bella hadn
’
t you.
”
She slurred.

Tammy looked at me.

“
What
’
s going on Bella?
”

 
Lizzie was really embarrassed with what was
going on, especially because she
’
d invited Steven over for the first time.

She looked at me and said.

   
“
You must know why she
is so angry Bella?
”

  
“
It
’
s nothing! Victoria has had too much to drink,
that
’
s all.
”

 Luckily Simon managed to calm his wife down before she said
anything else and he took her home.

The season started and we were really busy. Tammy kept on
quizzing me about Victoria and what her problem was with Simon and me,

  
“
Jealousy.
”
I explained.

  
“
But there
’
s nothing to be jealous about. You
’
re brother and sister. There must be more to it
Bella.
”

I knew I could never tell her my secret. She would be
disgusted.

 
    A few days later I was walking down the high
street doing some shopping, and I noticed Marco getting out of a car with his
sister; it was strange that I had never met her. Thinking back to the time when
I first saw her with Marco. I decided to question him later that evening.

     Lizzie offered to babysit and I left Marco a voice
message asking him to meet up with me. I nervously sat waiting for him, but he
didn't show up. I tried called him but his phone went straight to answer phone.
I went to his restaurant to see if anyone knew where he was. One of the chefs
took me to one side.

“
Bella, Marco isn't the man you think he is, but
it
’
s not for me to tell
you; all I know is that he isn
’
t as sweet as you may
think."

 
    That got me thinking. I
’
d never met any of Marco
’
s family; they didn
’
t come to the wedding. He
’
d told me that it was too far for them to come
for just a few days. I really needed to know what was going on. I went home,
and hoped Marco was there. I wished I had divorced him long ago, but he was the
one that wanted to make our marriage work at the time. Then when I agreed he
became distant again.

When I got home, Marco wasn't there, so I called his phone
again and again, it was still switched off.

 
    Marco didn
’
t come home that night, I couldn't sleep for
worry. When I
’
d asked Marco to meet
me at the pub he
’
d sounded nervous,
and asked me what was wrong. I told him I needed to speak to him. I should have
questioned him right there and then. All I could do now was wait for him to
return.

    I tried to keep busy which wasn
’
t difficult especially with two children and a
guest house to look after. I started to feel worn out. I felt really down;
Lizzie tried to keep my chin up as much as she could. I don
’
t know what I would have done without her there.
Steven came over to see her quite often and although he was nice, there was
something not quite right about him, he appeared just too perfect. Lizzie didn
’
t know that much about him. He told her he was
an orphan, and had no family. Maybe because I felt uneasy about myself and
Marco, I
’
d become paranoid and
was worried that Lizzie might get hurt. I kept my thoughts to myself and never
mentioned them to Lizzie.

    Days went by and Marco still hadn
’
t arrived home; he had never left me for this
long without calling. He had gone away quite often and was a very secretive
person, but he
’
d always kept in
contact. Marco had never been good at providing for us and sometimes he told me
he didn
’
t have much money. I
had never asked him what he did with his money, maybe I should have, especially
as it was me who was the one providing for us all.

    I decided to look through Marco
’
s things for some kind of clue as to where he
could have gone. I came across a picture of his sister with a little boy, but
on the back it said.

                                    
‘
My love.
’

 Now my mind was racing, this woman wasn`t his sister. So
who was she?

Obviously I knew our marriage was over, but I couldn
’
t ask Marco for a divorce if I didn
’
t know where he was.

    I called Tammy and asked her to come over.
Half an hour later she arrived with Roy. She took one look at me and asked me
what was wrong. I opened a bottle of wine, and began telling them everything.
My marriage to Marco, the mysterious woman I had seen him with when we first
met. That Marco had told me she was his sister, then realising that I had never
met any of his family, and how little I knew about him. That the woman in the
picture was the same woman I had seen him with.

  
“
Everything is a mess Tammy.
 
I don
’
t even know where he is to question him; he didn
’
t meet me at the pub, and when I call him, his
phone keeps going to voice mail.
”

 
Tammy told me not to worry until I saw him, but
that was easier said than done.

“
I just can
’
t cope anymore.
”
I said desperately. 
“
With a new baby and a toddler, and the guest
house in full swing; I feel drained. I am actually thinking of selling
up."

 
 
“
No, don
’
t do that. We will
try to help you as much as possible.
”
Tammy said.

   
“
Why don
’
t you have a break?
”
Roy suggested.
“
We can manage the guest house and the kids.
”

 I didn't really want to leave Robert; he was
only six months old but both Tammy and Roy insisted.

  
“
The children need a mother who isn
’
t on the verge of a nervous breakdown.
”

I had to admit, I did feel close to breaking
point.

  
“
Well you sort out your holiday, and we will go from there.
”
Tammy gave me a hug.
 
“
I might not be your mother Bella, and I
’
m not really your stepmother, but I love you
like you are my own daughter, and I
’
m very worried about you.
”

I sobbed in Tammy
’
s arms. I did feel a little better after my chat and a good
cry.

    The next day Simon came over and asked me where Marco
was, I said I didn
’
t know and that he
had just vanished.

  
“
I told you before
that I didn't like him. I just don
’
t trust him Bella.
”
He said angrily.

  
“
I thought it was
because you were jealous.
”
I replied.

  
“
I was a little
jealous, but more worried for you.
”

 I told Simon that Tammy had offered to look after the
guest house and the children while I had a break. He told me he would have the
children if that would help.

  
“
What about Victoria?
”
I asked.

  
“
Leave her to me
Bella.
”

I booked a holiday to Italy where Marco was from; he had
mentioned that was from Tuscany, so that was where I decided to go.

 
I didn
’
t know whether I would get any answers, but I thought it
was worth a try. I
’
d never been to Italy
and desperately needed a holiday. I thought that hopefully I would find Marco
there.

I arrived at Pisa airport very late and took a taxi to the
hotel. I had booked a room at The Grand Hotel Minerva. My room was lovely and
it over looked Florence`s historic centre. I went and had something to eat and
felt tired.

I hoped to start my search for Marco the next day. After a
good night
’
s sleep I felt
refreshed. I had a shower, put on my summery dress and stepped on to the
balcony. I could feel the heat of the sun on my face. The view was breath-taking.
 

After breakfast I decided to hire a car and asked for
directions to San Mignon a village where Marco said he was from. Looking
through the local directory I looked up the family name, Antionini, there were
quite a few there but not many in San Mignon.

    I decided to walk around the town and look in the
shops, until my hire car was ready. I went and had a spot of lunch at Lo
Stretcher, with fine home-made food and wine even down to the bread.

When I got back to the hotel my hire car was there. I was given
directions to San Mignon. I managed to find the village quite easy; it was a
beautiful medieval place. I stopped at a little caf
é
, took out my translation book and asked.

“
Scusate, qualcuno mi sa dire se conosce una persona
di nome Marco Antionini?
”
My accent was terrible, but luckily they
understood. A very sweet old lady came over to me and sat down at my table.

“
Parli Inglese?
”

I didn
’
t understand what she
was saying, so I nervously flipped through the pages of my book, hoping to find
the translation in there. Luckily for me the woman asked again in English.

“
You speak English?
”

“
Yes. Unfortunately my Italian is as good as what
’
s written in this book.
”
I replied, hoping that her English was good
enough to communicate.

I told her I was married to Marco Antionini and that I
thought he may have returned to his Village. She listened and then responded;

“
I know Antionini family very well, this village
is very small and everyone knows everyone here.
”

After I had finished my espresso, she gave me the directions
to Marco
’
s parents
’
house. I thanked her kindly and left, following
the directions accordingly.

   
“
Scusate, Signor
Antionini
?
”
I asked.

   
“
Si
. Cosa
volete.
”
He responded in an
impolite manner. I quickly looked through my book, to find out what he had said
other than yes.