Part 6 (2/2)

Signora Natasha Walker?

Yes.

We have a communication to you from Roma. One instant, if you please. Natasha sat very still and waited. She hadn't spoken to Isabella since she'd first heard the news. She had wanted to fly to Rome for the funeral. But Isabella hadn't wanted her to. She had asked her to wait. She had written, and waited, but for the first time in the eleven years of their friends.h.i.+p, there had been no answers, no news. It had been four months since Amadeo had been murdered, and she had never felt as cut off from Isabella since the day she had left the apartment they'd shared for a year and gone back to Rome. She hadn't written during those first few months either, but that was because she'd been so busy with her designing, and then so much in love. So much in love Natasha could still remember the excitement in Isabella's letters when she had written to tell her: ' and he's marvelous ' and I love him ' so handsome ' so tall and blond and I'll work for him at San Gregorio, doing real couture. ' The joy and the excitement had gone on for years. It had been a permanent honeymoon with those two. And then suddenly he was dead. Natasha had sat in shock and horrified silence when she'd heard the story on the six o'clock news.

Signora Walker?

Yes, yes, I'm here.

We have your party.

Natasha? Isabella's voice was strangely subdued.

Why the h.e.l.l haven't you answered my letters?

I ' don't know, Natasha. ' I didn't know what to say.

Natasha frowned and then nodded. I've been worried about you. Are you all right? The concern in her voice traveled five thousand miles to greet Isabella, who brushed the tears from her eyes and almost smiled.

I suppose so. I need a favor. It was always like that with them. They could pick up where they had left off, not speak to each other for six months, then instantly be sisters again when they met or spoke. It was one of those rare friends.h.i.+ps that could always be put down without cooling off.

Name it, Natasha said.

Isabella briefly explained what had happened with Alessandro that day or what hadn't, but could have. I can't bear it anymore. Not like this, she said. I can't take a chance with him.

Thinking of her own child, Natasha felt a tremor just listening to the story. No one could. Do you want to send him to me? Their sons were within four months of the same age, and Natasha was not one to be undone by an additional child. Jason would love it, she added. He keeps b.i.t.c.hing at me about not having a brother. Besides, they're two of a kind. A year before, when they'd all met to go skiing in Saint Moritz, the two boys had amused themselves by cutting off each other's hair. I'm serious, Isabella. I think you should get him out of Rome.

I agree. There was a fraction of a pause. How would you feel about having a roommate again? She waited, not knowing what Natasha would say, but her answer was instant. It took the form of a long, delighted, southern little-girl squeal. Isabella suddenly found herself laughing.

I'd love it. Are you serious?

Very. Bernardo and I have come to the conclusion that there's no other way. Just for a while. Not permanently of course. And, Natasha she paused, wondering how to explain that she was not just getting away it may be awkward. I'll have to stay hidden. I won't want anyone to know where I am.

That's going to be a b.i.t.c.h. You won't be able to set foot out of the apartment.

Do you really think people there would know my face?

Are you serious? Not the construction workers going to work on the subway maybe, but just about everyone else. Besides, if you do a disappearing act in Rome, it'll be in the papers all over the world.

Then I'll just have to stay hidden.

Can you live with that? Natasha had her doubts.

I have no choice. For the moment anyway. This is what I have to do.

Natasha had always admired her sense of duty, her courage, her style.

But you're sure you can stand living with me? I could stay somewhere else, Isabella said.

The h.e.l.l you will. If you stay anywhere else, I'll never speak to you again! How soon are you coming?

I don't know. I've only just made the decision. It will take time to work it out at the office. I'm going to have to continue to run San Gregorio from wherever I am.

Natasha let out a long slow whistle in answer. How the h.e.l.l are you going to manage that?

We'll just have to work it out. Poor Bernardo, as usual, will wind up with the brunt of the work. But I can talk to him by phone every day if I have to, and we have a New York office for our representative there. I can call in without telling them I'm in New York. I think it can be done.

If it can, then you'll do it. And if it can't, you'll do it anyway.

I wish I felt as sure. I hate leaving the business here. Oh, Natasha' . She let out a long, unhappy sigh. It's been such an awful time. I don't even feel like me anymore.

Natasha didn't say it, but Isabella didn't sound like herself either. The past four months had obviously taken a h.e.l.l of a toll.

I feel like a machine, Isabella went on. I just manage to get through the days, killing myself in the office and playing with Alessandro when I can. But I keep ' I keep thinking. ' Natasha could hear her friend's voice crack at the other end of the line. I keep thinking he'll come home again. That he's not really gone.

I think that's what happens when somebody we love disappears suddenly like that. You don't have time to absorb it, to understand.

I don't understand anything anymore.

You don't have to. Natasha's voice was gentle. Just come home. There were tears in her own eyes now as she thought of her friend. You should have let me come to Rome four months ago. I'd have brought you back then.

I wouldn't have gone.

Yes, you would. I'm six inches taller than you are, remember?

Suddenly Isabella laughed. It would be lovely to see Natasha again. And maybe it would even be fun to go to New York. Fun! What an insane thing to think about after all that had happened in the past four months.

Seriously, how soon do you think you can make it? Natasha was already making rapid calculations and had started to scribble notes. Do you want to send Alessandro on ahead? Or do you want me to come and get him now?

For a moment Isabella considered it but she said, No. I'll bring him with me. I'm not going to let him out of my sight. As she listened Natasha began to wonder what kind of effect all of this was having on the boy, but it was not the moment to ask and Isabella had already gone on. Remember, don't say anything to anyone about this. And Natasha ' thank you.

Go to h.e.l.l, spaghetti face.

Spaghetti face Natasha's pet name for her, one Isabella hadn't heard in years. As she said good-bye she realized that for the first time in months she was laughing. She hung up the phone and looked up to see Bernardo, his face a study in anxiety and strain. She had forgotten he was there.

I'm going.

How soon?

As soon as we can work it out at the office. What do you think? A few weeks? She looked at him, her mind suddenly beginning to whirl. Was it even possible? Could it be done? Could she run the business from her hiding place with Natasha in New York?

But Bernardo was nodding. Yes. We'll get you out of here in the next few weeks. And with that he took a pad of paper from the desk in her bedroom, and they began to map out a plan.

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