‘I think you’ll find one of me quite enough to deal with for now,’ and lifting his hand to her lips, she kissed his fingers one by one. His eyes glimmered at her, telling her he wanted to take her some place and kiss her more seriously. But he still didn’t offer his congratulations on the partnership, and there was the very slightest coolness between them as a result.
Alec Hall always seemed to know the moment she walked into his shop. Even before he scented that familiar and intoxicating perfume, he would experience a prickle of recognition, an instinctive awareness that she was close by. He was never wrong. There she was now, riffling through the latest bunch of records. God, she was coming over.
‘Can I listen to
I Beg of You
, please? I just love Elvis.’
‘It’s doing well this month.’ As he reached for the record from his stock Alec was wondering how long he could keep her talking. ‘Do you go dancing every Saturday?’
Carmina manufactured a look of boredom. ‘If I feel like it. I’m pretty busy, you know. And my parents are so strict they don’t always let me go, and if they do I have to be home by eleven at the latest.’ She pulled a face.
‘I’m sure they’re only trying to protect you, and I don’t blame them, lovely girl like you.’
‘They’re just being mean and old fashioned.’
He gave her a sympathetic smile. ‘I expect they can’t quite accept that you’re all grown up and not a child any more.’
Her eyes seemed to darken as she vigorously nodded. ‘That’s it
exactly
! Oh, how understanding you are.’
Alec’s brain fogged as he gazed into those melting brown eyes and all he could think to say next was, ‘you can go into the booth now. I’ll play the record for you.’
Alec swore softly to himself as he watched her sashay across the floor, swinging her hips in that tempting, beguiling way she had. What was the matter with him? Couldn’t he keep her talking a while longer? He was behaving like some tongue-tied schoolboy. And no wonder. How long was it since he’d had a woman? Any woman, let alone one as young and stunning as Carmina Bertalone. Too long!
Save for one or two disastrous episodes best forgotten, the last time must be five years ago when - no, best not to remember that either. Yet the image of another young and beautiful, much-cherished face, rushed into his mind nonetheless, heedless of common sense.
There wasn’t a day passed when he didn’t think of her, and remember.
How could he ever forget the vivid happiness whenever she looked at him, always smiling, always laughing. His precious Joo Eun, his silver pearl. And that’s what she’d seemed like to him, a treasure beyond price at just fifteen. So young, so perfect. There was nothing, to his mind, more special, more perfect than a young girl, a virgin. He’d been so utterly besotted that he’d even married her, gone through a form of marriage anyway, out there in the wilds of Korea.
He could still mentally trace the high sculptured cheekbones, her wide luscious mouth, the huge eyes beseeching him to stay. But he hadn’t stayed. The moment peace had been declared he couldn’t wait to get home, certain she’d follow him. Only she hadn’t. She’d stayed behind and he’d lost her.
‘Mr Hall.’ Carmina had opened the door of the booth and was calling across to him. ‘I can’t seem to get the earphones to work.’
Alec ignored a customer waiting to pay for a selected record and went right over. Joo Eun had been shy, her behaviour bounded by tradition. Yet here was one girl who showed not a care in the world for boundaries of any kind. What she’d got up to in that car with Luc Fabriani didn’t take much imagination, certainly enough to turn her poor mother’s lovely black hair quite grey.
It was cramped and warm in the tiny booth with the scent of Carmina’s Primitif perfume overpowering his senses. He edged in beside her and began to check the earphones. ‘They were working fine half an hour ago.’
‘Maybe it’s me,’ she said, in her little girl voice. ‘I’m hopeless with anything mechanical.’
He looked down into her face, into a pair of fascinating, darkly fringed eyes which were anything but innocent, one eyebrow slightly raised as if to provoke him. Alec recognised the game she was playing. ‘These things can be tricky,’ he conceded, instinctively going along with it. ‘That’s a pretty dress you’re wearing, Carmina. Blue is definitely your colour.’
He could have kicked himself. What sort of stupid remark was that?
Blue is definitely your colour.
What had happened to his wit, to the seductive charm which had once won over women, young girls in particular, with no trouble at all? Worn out by age and cynicism, no doubt.
‘Thanks.’ She seemed pleased by the compliment nonetheless, her cheeks going a little pink and her mouth drooping into a tantalising pout.
Alec had a sudden urge to kiss her, to rip open the pretty buttons of her shirtwaister dress and explore the luscious beauty beneath. Sweat broke out on his brow just thinking about it. He was burning up inside, in torment. He had to get out of here before he made a complete idiot of himself. This wasn’t the place for making overtures of that nature, not with customers waiting.
‘There you are, I think you’ll find it okay now.’ There’d been nothing wrong with the earphones, but then he’d known all along that there wouldn’t be. So had she. He turned to leave but Carmina seemed to be in his way and they bumped into each other, the fullness of her breasts pressing softly against his heated skin.
‘Oh, sorry,’ she giggled.
Alec felt a tightness in his chest, and a more pressing ache in another part of his anatomy. This was a dangerous sport she played. Did she have any idea where it might lead?
‘You weren’t doing the records last Saturday,’ she said, putting her mouth into a little moue of regret. ‘Will you be at St John’s school this week?’
‘I might.’ His voice cracked. ‘I’ll try.’
‘Try hard, Alec,’ she whispered. ‘I can call you Alec, can’t I, now that we’re friends?’
He nodded, for the life of him quite unable to respond.
‘Good. I’ll look out for you.’ Then she took the earphones from his nerveless fingers and clamped them to her head, giving him a teasing little smile that carried a world of meaning.
All Alec could do was escape while he still had some of his dignity intact, deeply aware of an embarrassing flush about his neck and jaw as he hurried to the counter to take the money off Patsy Bowman for a
Whole Lotta Woman
by Marvin Rainwater.
But the girl’s outrageous behaviour had given birth to a small thread of hope that perhaps life might still have a few surprises in store for him, after all.
Chapter Fourteen
On Sunday mornings Carmina was expected to put on her best clothes, complete with hat and gloves, and attend mass with her parents and brothers and sisters. Even Patsy accompanied them to church regularly, as she was having lessons with Father Dimmock. Papa Bertalone had persuaded her that it would be a good thing for her to embrace the Catholic faith if she was to become a member of the family.
‘I don’t mind turning,’ Patsy had told him. ‘It’s the same God, and if it makes you all happy, I’m quite happy to convert. My foster parents never bothered much about church and I’m not sure who my real parents were, although ...’ She’d paused, searching for some sort of explanation of how she felt about the confusion over her identity, but couldn’t quite seem able to find the right words. It was a long and complicated story and she really didn’t feel like talking about it. Papa Bertalone had interrupted her with a gentle hand on her arm.
‘It isn’t important who you
were
my little one, only who you are
now
, and what you might become.’
Patsy had smiled at him. ‘That’s what Clara always says.’
‘She is a wise woman.’
Patsy had come to church with the family ever since, though she couldn’t yet take a full part in the mass. Today, she was happily chatting to Carlotta and Gina, Marc hovering nearby. He was always seeking ways to touch or kiss her, even if it was only to put his arm about his fiancée as he led her into church.
The sight of their evident happiness in each other, and Patsy’s cheerful, friendly attitude, almost made Carmina want to throw up. Why did the girl have to be so reasonable, so helpful? Carmina had no desire for a stranger to join the family, or to come between herself and Marc. She liked things exactly the way they were, with herself getting all the attention.
Except, of course, that she would be marry too one day, if things worked out right.
Carmina glanced across at Gina marshalling the younger children into line, making sure they had their missals, their socks pulled up, their hair all tidy. What a little mother hen she was. Yet still a secretive one. The sisters had rarely exchanged a word recently and Carmina felt she had to watch the girl like a hawk, just to make sure Luc came nowhere near her.
Of course, once Luc had stopped fighting the inevitable, Gina’s little crush on him would no longer matter. It would be in the past, buried. And since Luc was not only a Catholic but also Italian, Carmina was quite certain she could persuade her parents into accepting him, in the end. It was simply a question of timing, and good planning.
Today, as luck would have it, she saw him the minute they came out of church. There he was, lounging on a wall smoking a cigarette. Carmina ached to boldly walk over and give him a kiss, or maybe say: Papa, this is my boy friend. Surely the fact that he was here proved that he wanted to be with her. And like all good Italian Catholics, the Fabrianis never missed mass.
But then Carmina noticed that Gina was watching him too, which instantly filled her with fury. It was imperative the erstwhile lovers be kept apart. Once they started exchanging sweet little confidences, who knew what might go wrong with her plan? She was about to go over to drag Gina away and make sure she had no opportunity to speak to him when a hand grasped her arm.
‘Don’t even think about going over. Momma is expecting us all to hurry back for lunch, and you’ll only ruin a lovely family day.’
Carmina spun about, her face crimson with rage. ‘Who are
you
to tell
me
what to do, Patsy Bowman? You’ve no right to lecture me on
my
family!’
‘I’m your friend, I hope. I saw you eyeing up Luc and thought you might be considering going over to speak to him. I wouldn’t advise it. Papa would be cross and Momma would only get upset. I’m just warning you that I don’t think it would be wise.’
‘You know
nothing
!’ Carmina hissed, aware that Papa was indeed glancing her way, puzzled by the angry sound of their voices.
‘Don’t play the innocent with me, Carmina. I know you’re chasing after him. Leave well alone.’
Carmina gasped. ‘Unlike you, I don’t need to chase a man. I only have to crook my little finger and they all come running.’
‘I’m only too aware that you love chasing men, Carmina. You can’t seem to help yourself. You were certainly in that record booth with Alec Hall a long time the other day, for instance. Few of his other customers get such close attention.’
‘Now you’re being ridiculous. Alec Hall is
old
. I wouldn’t look twice at him.’
Patsy smiled. ‘No, but I suspect you enjoy having him look at you and admiring your charms.’
Carmina bridled, eyes darkening dangerously as she hissed at Patsy. ‘Shut up! How many times do I have to tell you to keep your interfering nose out of my affairs?’
From the corner of her eye Patsy saw Luc get up off the wall and go quickly over to Gina. For some reason this surprised her. Gina had never seemed the sort to defy her parents. Nevertheless, the pair were certainly talking earnestly enough now, uncaring of who might see them together.
Thinking Carmina might defy her and go over to interrupt them, Patsy grasped the girl firmly by the arm and began to steer her along the church path, away from Luc Fabriani.
Carmina had noticed too and struggled furiously to release herself from Patsy’s iron grip. ‘Let me go!’
Patsy gave the girl a little shake. ‘Listen, you know how Papa feels about the Fabrianis and Gina is already in trouble over him. You order
me
not to interfere but that’s exactly what
you’re
doing. Gina is nuts about him, so leave well alone.’
The girl came rushing past at that moment, at a lolloping run, to join her parents and siblings ahead of them on the path. Carmina wrenched herself free and stalked off after her, pert nose in the air, making it abundantly clear that Patsy had overstepped the mark yet again.
The market was strangely silent, deserted since it was a Sunday. There were no striped canvas awnings flapping in the wind, no voices shouting out the glories of their wares. No women in headscarves haggling over the price of Jimmy Ramsay’s brawn. No banter and chatter. It was as if the beating heart of Champion Street had for some reason stopped. Gina’s own heart didn’t seem able to keep to its normal rhythm either, not since the moment Luc had approached her outside the church.
‘I need to speak to you urgently,’ he’d whispered. ‘It’s so long since I’ve seen you. Can we meet at our usual place?
Please
?’
She’d turned away with a little shake of her head, but Luc had blocked her escape.