Lorenzo's Reward - Lorenzo's Reward Part 31
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Lorenzo's Reward Part 31

"Working. I had a lot of catching up to do."

"I hate to think of you working so hard. Do you feel better? he demanded.

"It all depends on what you mean by better."

"You are saying you miss me," he said, the triumphant note in his voice acting like a match on the fuse of her anger. "Carissima, I know how you feel. I miss you so very much already-"

"I'm afraid," she said coldly, "you'll have to get used to that, Lorenzo. And you have no idea how I feel."

"Cosa?" he said incredulously. There was a pause. "What do you mean?"

"I mean," said Jess with deliberate cruelty, "that I won't be seeing you again."

"What is this nonsense?" he demanded roughly. "You are saying you no longer want me?"

If she did she'd be lying. Jess gritted her teeth. "Let's just say I no longer want to many you. It was a crazy idea anyway. I've written a letter to explain. You should receive it shortly-"

"Jessamy!" he said urgently. "What has happened? What has changed your mind? I cannot believe you mean this, not after the joy we shared-"

"You mean sex," she said scornfully. "Don't worry, Lorenzo. I'm sure you'll soon find another woman just as gullible as me, only too happy to pander to your needs. Goodbye."

Jess put the phone down and threw herself on the sofa, sobbing bitterly. As expected the phone rang again soon afterwards, and with clenched fists rammed against her quivering mouth she listened to Lorenzo's enraged voice ordering her to pick up the phone. Eventually, when it became clear to him she had no intention of obeying him, he rang off. Soon afterwards the phone rang again, but this time Frances Dysart's voice began leaving a message, and Jess picked up the receiver to assure her mother she was feeling better, though her first day at work had been hard going.

"You don't sound better. Are you coming down this weekend?" asked Frances. "We'd love to hear all about Lorenzo's home. Your father was very taken with him, darling. Are you seeing him again?"

"No," said Jess flatly. "I'm not."

There was a pause. "Something wrong?"

"No, not really." Jess managed a laugh. "Lorenzo's quite a charmer, I grant you. But not really my type."

"If you say so."

"I do. Have you heard from the honeymooners?"

Taking this as a plea for less emotive conversation, Frances gave news of Leo and Jonah, who were returning shortly, Kate, who had finished her exams, Adam, who was still awaiting the results of his, and Fenella, who had quarrelled with her best friend. Soothed by the minutiae of life at Friars Wood, Jess promised to travel down me following Saturday and returned to her sandwich. But, revolted by it, and every other form of food, she threw it away and made herself some tea, then tried to watch some television. But the programme could have been broadcast in Sanskrit for all the sense she made of it, as she sat waiting for the phone to ring again.

When it did, a long, endless hour later, Jess waited for Lorenzo's voice to start making demands again, but instead it was Emily, sounding very distressed, and Jess seized the phone to answer her.

"What's up, love?" she said breathlessly.

"You're asking me that?" said Emily, incensed. "What the devil are you playing at, Jess Dysart?"

"What do you mean?"

"What do I mean! Lorenzo drove here a short while ago, asking if I'd heard from you. And behind that controlled mask of his he was in a terrible state. When I said I hadn't spoken to you since you went back he apologised for disturbing Mother and me, and took off again. What's going on?"

"I've told nun I don't want to see him again."

"What?" Emily said something her mother would have been horrified to hear. "Well, that's a lie for a start. Whatever happened to truly, madly, deeply?"

Jess sighed wearily. "I was given certain information about his past. Something I just can't cope with."

"Are you sure about this? Whoever told you could have got it wrong."

"Not likely. It was Isabella."

Emily breathed in sharply, then began to cough, and it was some time before she was able to speak again. "Sorry about that. Look, I must ring off. This is costing Lorenzo a fortune, and heaven knows he's shelled out enough already. On both of us," she added. "Look, Jess, are you sure you haven't got the wrong end of the stick somehow?"

"Very sure," said Jess desolately. "I wish I had."

As the week dragged on there were no more calls from Lorenzo. Which came as a mortifying surprise. Jess had been so sure he would persist until he knew the reason for her attitude. She had looked forward to throwing the truth in his face, daring him to deny that Renata had lost her life trying to give birth to his child. In her stilted, brief letter, which had taken sheet, after sheet of rough drafts before she was satisfied, she'd said nothing about Renata. She wrote that it had been a mistake to agree to marry him after so short an acquaintance, and therefore she was returning the ring.

After years of trying to diet herself into something approaching her sisters' slendemess Jess found her weight diminishing by the day. Which was no surprise. Since her return from Italy the mere thought of food had sickened her. Lorenzo Forii was to blame, she thought in anguish. At last Jess gave up expecting a message from him whenever she got home, but couldn't control a wild leap of hope every time the phone rang, just the same.

On one occasion it was Simon Hollister, her fellow juror, who rang up as he'd promised, suggesting a meal. Why not? thought Jess wearily, but arranged to meet him for a drink instead of putting him to the expense of food she couldn't eat Simon was an amusing companion, and the evening passed pleasantly enough, but when he suggested a repeat Jess was vague, saying she'd give him a ring when she was free. Simon was nice. But he wasn't Lorenzo. No one was. Nor ever would be.

Lack of nutrition, sleep, and enthusiasm for life in general, made Jess very tired as the week wore on. After coping with the tantrums of a model whose success had gone to her undeniably beautiful head, she was late getting back to the flat on Friday evening, and when the doorbell rang soon afterwards she groaned in despair, in no mood to talk to anyone.

"Mr and Mrs Savage here, Jess," said her sister's voice over the intercom. "Let us in."

Leonie rushed in through the door Jess opened and gave her sister a hug, then stood back, eyeing her in frank, sisterly horror. "Good heavens above, Jess, what have you done to yourself?"

"Thanks!" said Jess dryly, then submitted herself to Jonah's embrace in turn. "Go on," she told him, resigned. "Get your bit over with as well. I know I look gruesome."

Like his wife, Jonah Savage looked the picture of health and happiness, but his eyes were full of concern. "Never gruesome, love," he assured her, "but something's obviously wrong, Jess. What's up? Your mother told us to come round and check on you the moment we reached London."

Leonie gave her husband a speaking look. "Pop out and buy some wine, darling. I think a drink is called for."

"I've got some wine," protested Jess.

"My beloved means she wants me to make myself scarce for a bit," said Jonah, grinning. "Though by the look of her, Leo, Jess could do with a double helping of fish and chips, not wine."

Jess shuddered, clapped a hand over her mouth and fled to the bathroom. When she emerged, ashen and shivering, Jonah had vanished and his bride was making tea.

"Better?" asked Leonie. "Come and sit down. Mother told me all about Emily and your mercy trip to Florence with Lorenzo, not to mention the stay at me Villa Fortuna. I gamer you and Lorenzo hit it off to such an extent Mother can't understand why you don't want to see him any more. What went wrong?"

"Oh, you know me and men, Leo," said Jess flippantly. "I never get it right."

"Hmm." Leonie added milk to the steaming beakers and handed one to Jess. "Kate assured me that you and Lorenzo are-I quote-'madly in love'."

Jess scowled. "We hardly know each other."

"What difference does that make? I knew Jonah was the man for me the moment I met him."

"That's different"

"Why?"

"Jonah's a straight arrow."