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Elisabetta stood, but a great weight of sadness weighed down on her. “Go and see him, please.”
“Whatever for?” Jane demanded hotly, surprise making her eyes wide.
“He’s a different man since you left. I am worried for him. I know you would set him to rights.”
Jane forced herself to maintain a hard heart. How Carlo was, or wasn’t, was no longer her concern. She had loved him, and he had controlled her. That was not a relationship. “No. He’s in my past.”
Liz compressed her lips, and crossed the room to the woman she would always consider a friend. “He isn’t, dear one. You may wish he were. I know you are angry with him. That you even want to hate him. But I also know that you love him with all your beautiful, forgiving heart. And he needs you now. He needs you.”
Jane turned away, angling her face towards the windows that overlooked the garden. Carlo needed her? As if, she derided mentally. Carlo had never needed her. She had no doubt he’d move on and fill his bed with another procession line of willing women. “I’m going to sell the house,” Jane said suddenly, changing the conversation with a cold clarity. “I don’t want to be here anymore.”
Liz nodded. She was not surprised. “Go and see Carlo.” She pressed a kiss against Jane’s cheek and disappeared down the corridor. Jane went to bed, that night, furious at Carlo, and at Liz, and at the whole world. And she was determined not to go and see him. What in the world would possess her to throw herself right back into the circus again?
She’d escaped once, and somehow been pulled right back into the powerful web of seduction Carlo managed to weave around her. It couldn’t happen again. Her dreams were tormented by fragments of memory. Of Carlo, loving her and making love to her. The way his body could command hers. But her dreams were even more dangerous than that. She remembered him laughing, and the way it turned his whole face into the most perfect, beautiful thing she’d ever seen. The way he put an arm around her and she felt safe and loved, cocooned from harm and danger.
Jane woke up exhausted, but with a renewed sense of purpose. Anything was better than the soul-draining apathy she’d felt since leaving Italy. She ran a google search on local estate agents and called the first one that came up. Having made an appointment to discuss the sale of her house, she felt even better.
For the first time since flying back into London, she looked around and realised what a tip her house was. Tidying was therapeutic. She went from room to room, straightening and organising, and mentally making lists of what she’d need to get rid of before she moved. It was only later that day, when the house was spotless and the estate agent was due, that Jane realised she had no clue where she’d go to.
The ringing of the doorbell interrupted her realisation. She crossed the home and pulled it inwards.
“Jane Lang?” A handsome man, she guessed in his early f
orties, stood on her entrance portico. He was just to the left of the crimson stained grout. She wondered if she’d need to get it dug out and re-done before listing the property.
“Yes, hello. Do come in,” she opened the door wider and stepped aside.
The agent walked inside, and passed a business card over. “I’m Anthony Black. You spoke to my assistant earlier.”
“Yes.” She swallowed.
“What can I do for you, Miss Lang?”
“I want to sell my house.”
“I presumed as much.” He winked. “Mind if I have a look around before we get down to details?”
Jane nodded. “Suit yourself.”
The agent remained with her for a little over an hour, and by the time he’d left, Jane had signed the contracts that detailed the sale price and conditions. She felt a sense of freedom wash over her. With no idea where she’d go or when, she knew she needed to do something.
Precisely two days after listing her house for sale, Jane signed a contract of sale. She remembered the date clearly, and always would, for it was the same day she discovered that she was pregnant.
She did her best to appear calm while she met with the realtor and put her scrawl on the dotted line, but as soon as he left, she gave reign to her emotions. Her whole body began to shake, as she counted back dates in her mind. But she didn’t want to get too far ahead of herself. She’d been under a lot of pressure; it could just be that her cycle was out of whack after everything she’d been through since leaving Carlo.
She grabbed her handbag and stepped out of her home. As she walked quickly down the steps, Liz’s voice called out to her.
“Hello, stranger,” she said quietly.
Jane looked across at her. “You’re still here? I would have thought you’d be off spying on someone else by now.”
Liz shook her head. “Come, Jane. You know Carlo was only trying to look after you.”
“I don’t have time to talk now, Liz.”
Liz frowned thoughtfully. “Is everything okay?”
“Yes, fine,” Jane lied, wondering if a tiny little life form was swimming about inside of her, feathering its nest for the nine months ahead. “Excuse me.”
