Rosemary By Any Other Name by Anna Clarkson
Chapter Two
It was early evening before Vittorio returned and Rosemary was completely, totally bored. Ricardo his gums soothed and full of painkiller had slept for most of the day. Rosemary had washed all the clothes she and Ricardo were not wearing and they were drying in the bathroom. She had also ruthlessly tidied up the flat. During the afternoon she had even taken a siesta.
After that she had had nothing to do, nothing to read and there was of course only Italian on radio and television. Rosemary was not used to having nothing to do. She did try grinding some beans and making coffee but this was a complete disaster. She was therefore delighted when Vittorio finally returned. He looked tired, and was carrying a Moses basket full of packages in one hand and an enormous packet of nappies in the other.
“Come and sit down.” Rosemary suggested. “You look tired. Your parcel arrived it's on the shelf.”
“May I have some of that coffee?” He asked sniffing the air delicately.
“I shouldn't.” Rosemary advised but she poured him a cup reluctantly.
Vittorio took a mouthful and only good manners prevented him from promptly spitting it out again. “I did warn you.” Rosemary said taking the cup from him and pouring it away “We always had coffee in a jar labelled instant. I'm sorry.”
“Never mind I'll make some myself in a minute.” Vittorio retorted indifferently starting to unpack the basket.
He looked through the packages handing most to Rosemary but keeping some back. To go with the Moses basket he had bought blankets, sheets and a baby nest. There was a three-bottle sterilizer, and a bottle warmer, a rocker chair that Vittorio quickly assembled for her and a range of baby clothes. From vests to dungarees. Rosemary looking them over wanted badly to cry instead she attacked Vittorio.
Exclaiming angrily. “You've been very extravagant; there was no need to buy so much for us.”
Vittorio about to answer her sharply caught the sparkle of tears in her eyes and quickly changed what he had been about to say.
“I didn't want to make the same mistake I made with the car.” He retorted mildly. Rosemary looked perplexed. “You said it didn't go with me, too shabby.” He explained. Rosemary glared at him warily then sighed.
“I'm sorry; I was being totally ungrateful, unreasonable and hateful. Ricardo's never had so many things and they are all so lovely.”
“That's all right Marie Rosita.” He assured her calmly. “I enjoyed myself I'll start the coffee.”
Rosemary sat in the middle of the floor unwrapping vests; sleep suits, booties, playsuits and other baby clothes. Despite herself she couldn't help crying over them; Vittorio grinding the coffee beans was nice enough to ignore her tears. It was over coffee that Vittorio produced the rest of the parcels.
“Anyone looking for you will be looking for a red headed boyish looking girl in jeans.” He pointed out producing a short straight haired wig of jet-black hair. “I also bought you some skirts to wear instead of the jeans.” He said handing her the other bags.
Rosemary opened them warily, inside where three very full cotton skirts, two brightly patterned and coloured the other black with silver embroidery about the hem, there was a leather belt and some broderie anglaise cotton slips to go with them. Also there were half a dozen tops in a rainbow of colours, all tight fitting in contrast to her usual baggy t-shirts, also there were two large over shirts in colours that toned with the skirts and a black boxy jacket that matched the black skirt. In the final bag was a waterproof jacket that made hers look like an escapee from a jumble sale.
“You really are changing my image.” She remarked. “But I don't think you should be buying me clothes.” She added trying to sound stern but not quite succeeding.
“If you go and get changed and pack Ricardo into his basket I'll take the two of you out to dinner.” Vittorio offered.
Rosemary had grown up in the shadow of a blond petit and very beautiful older sister and in consequence had little vanity. Her wardrobe mostly consisted of jeans, t-shirts and unisex tops she was used to being taken for a boy. In the new clothes, though nobody would make that mistake.
They didn't however go with her sensible old shoes. Luckily in the bottom of the backpack there was a pair of cheap sandals she had bought on a Mexican market. Vittorio rose to his feet, and for the first time she saw him smile, as she entered the room.
“I hope I look all right.” Rosemary said uncertainly. Vittorio turned her round to face the large mirror. She inspected herself carefully before admitting. “I hardly recognise myself.”
“That's the idea.” Vittorio reminded her. “And Marie Rosita, stick to Spanish not English.”
“Spanish. She inquired.
“Yes, if you think your Spanish is good enough for you to pass as a Spaniard. He questioned.
“I have GCSE O and A levels in Spanish.” Rosemary returned, before pointing out. “And I have just spent six months in Mexico; I've even taken to dreaming in Spanish.”
“Good as long as you remember. You are no longer the English Rosemary but the Spanish Marie Rosita.”
Rosemary nodded obediently before making up the Moses basket and dressing Ricardo in some of his new clothes. She tucked him into one end of the basket and a bottle, clean nappies and baby wipes into the other. Then Vittorio and Rosemary carrying the Moses basket between them walked to a small local restaurant it was quiet but the food was good, luckily so was Ricardo. This meant that Rosemary was able to relax and enjoyed herself, Vittorio despite being both cold and formal in manner was also an attentive and thoughtful companion.
Over several different kinds of pasta, Rosemary had admitted to not having tried Italian food before, and a local wine they talked quietly in Spanish. Vittorio noticed that Rosemary in skirt and wig was attracting much more masculine attention than she had got in her jeans. Rosemary of course noticed nothing.
“Will we still be going into Switzerland?” She asked.
“That depends on what action the Alessi's take.” Vittorio returned carefully. “Goergino Alessi doesn't like to be crossed, it makes him very nasty. He may be having the borders watched. I know a widow whose niece is a maid in the Alessi's house. I asked my friend Stefano to speak to her and get her to pass on anything she hears.”
“You seem to have friends everywhere.” Rosemary remarked. “It's strange because you don't look the friendly kind.” Vittorio looked coldly at her, but she was getting used to this and ignored it. “If they are having the borders watched what am I to do then?” She questioned unhappily.
“Stefano has a cousin in Otranto on the Capo Santa Maria di Leuca. Rosemary frowning tried to work out where that was. “If you think of Italy as a boot the Cape of Santa Maria di Leuca is on the heel.” He explained. “Stefano's cousin has a fishing boat he's taken me across to Kerkira before he can do it again.”
“Kerkira!” That would be Corfu wouldn't it, Greece?” Rosemary asked quickly.
Vittorio was most impressed few British people would be aware of this he realised. “You seem to have been very well educated.” He complimented. “Where were you at school?”
“Oh I've never been to school.” Rosemary returned. “Sophie went for a year but I never did.”
“How did she get to be a medical student if she never went to school?” Vittorio asked surprised.
“Sophie wasn't a medical student, she was a mathematician.” Rosemary said puzzled “What gave you the idea she was a medic.”
“In the letter Ricky wrote to you he promised to make his home in Cambridge so that Sophie could get her doctorate.” Vittorio pointed out Rosemary laughed aloud for the first time in weeks.
“Sophie was working for her doctorate in mathematics.” She explained. “She got her degree when she was nineteen, an honours degree.”
“Double first?” Vittorio interrupted.
“Yes of course, you know about British degrees.”
“I was up at Oxford.” Vittorio explained.
“Which college,
“Magdalen and I read history. Keep to the subject Marie Rosita.” Vittorio replied.
“After Sophie took her master degree she decided to take a year off before going for her doctorate. That's when she met Ricky.” Rosemary went on obediently. “Her Ambition was to be the youngest Professor of Mathematics in Cambridge.”
“Was that likely?” Vittorio questioned the blond; beauty he remembered in the photograph with Ricky didn't look to him like a potential Professor of anything.
“I don't see why not.” Rosemary replied certainly. “Grandfather was and father was expected to be one, only he died. And Mother is a Professor at Princeton only that's in modern languages.”
A terrifyingly intellectual family Vittorio thought, and surely he'd heard of Professor Lampton of Cambridge.
“Professor Lampton of St Augustine's College.” He questioned slowly. “He was a physicist who won a Nobel Prize for Mathematics.”
“That's Grandfather.” Rosemary agreed happily.
Vittorio frowned slightly as he remembered more about Professor Lampton; he had given a series of lectures at Oxford while he, Vittorio, had been a student. Even none mathematicians had attended and Oxford had resounded with stories about him. He was renowned for his bad temper, and his quarrels. His students and his colleagues were said to be terrified of him. It was rumoured that the only person in Cambridge with an intellect to match Professor Lampton's had been his son.
“If you didn't go to school how were you educated?” Vittorio asked surprised.
“Father and Grandfather taught us. We studied anything we were interested in.” Rosemary explained. “The local education authority tried to interfere once, Grandfather soon saw them off.” Rosemary sounded rather smug at the memory.
“Didn't you have a tutor or governess?” Vittorio asked fascinated.
“No, Grandfather would find us colleagues of his to help us but we mostly learned from books and of course we attended lectures at the colleges. We shouldn't have done but while Grandfather was alive nobody wanted to cross him. After he died they felt sorry for us and Sophie could throw a worse temper tantrum than Grandfather also we knew everyone who mattered in Cambridge.”
It was clear to Vittorio that in academic circles the Lampton's were the aristocracy, and the Alessi's had thought one of them not good enough for their second son! All the Alessi's had was money and they hadn't even earned that themselves only inherited it from a distant cousin.
“Marie Rosita, are you aiming for a Professorship also.” Vittorio asked.
“It's rather expected, that a Lampton will achieve academic honours.” Rosemary explained. “What else would I do?”
“Are you another Mathematician like Sophie or studying languages like your mother?” Vittorio asked.
“Languages wouldn't be considered intellectual enough.” Rosemary said with a laugh, as she ate a lovely lemon flavoured pudding. “Sophie would have considered that a waste. Languages don't take any effort for us to learn you see.”
She could see Vittorio didn't understand, so explained gently. “Some families are musical they all play or sing and without much apparent effort. The Lampton's pick up languages the same way, Grandfather spoke five, father spoke seven or eight. Grandmother who died when father was seventeen is said to have known more than a dozen. She was a Lampton and a cousin of Grandfathers.”
“She must have been a brave lady to marry your Grandfather.” Vittorio commented.
“According to Grandfather they got married so that they could quarrel in more comfort.” Rosemary informed him a gleam of laughter in her expressive blue eyes. “All the Lampton's are quarrelsome and have awful tempers, except me!”
“You can't have had many friends if you didn't go to school.” Vittorio said Rosemary thought for a while.
“Sophie and I had each other and while Grandfather lived the house was always full of people, we missed out on friends of our own age. But.” Rosemary sounded a little sad. “I learnt very young that other children don't like you if you know more than they do. Their mothers are even worse. I tipped a jug of orange juice over a little boy after I heard his mother telling another mother that it wasn't natural being as clever as Sophie and I. She said we would probably grow up to be mentally unstable.”
“What did your Grandfather do?” Vittorio asked his fascination with this strange family growing with everything he learnt and it was clear Marie Rosita was still angry at the memory.
“Grandfather shouted a lot, but when he finally found out why I did it he upset the mother by telling me I should have poured the juice over her. He said it wasn't fair to Daniel who had enough problems growing up with a fool for a mother. Daniel never came to play with me again.” Rosemary finished sounding amused.
“Were you afraid of your Grandfather?” Vittorio questioned she didn't sound as if she had been. Yet Professor Lampton would surely have been a terrifying person to a small child!
“Afraid of Grandfather!” She exclaimed in surprise. “Oh no, he was very noisy and always quarrelling of course but you didn't have to listen to him. If he kept on you could always walk away. If he was really annoyed well, I could hide in the bathroom. Sophie was much harder to get away from; I usually gave in to her. It made life much easier. Sophie was very like Grandfather in character, living with her was like sharing the house with a firework. You were always waiting for her to go off.”
“That must have been very tiring.” Vittorio said calling for the bill.
“But exciting.” Rosemary answered picking up the Moses basket where Ricardo was still asleep.
Carrying the basket between them they walked slowly back to the apartment. Once there Ricardo had to be wakened to take his bottle and then Rosemary went to bed. It was a great relief not having the baby in bed with her she hadn't realised how it had interfered with her sleep. For the first time ever Ricardo slept through the night not waking until just after six.
When he did wake Rosemary crept through the living room to the fridge to collect his bottle and put it to warm while she changed him. She had hoped to avoid waking Vittorio but just as she started to feed Ricardo Vittorio knocked on the bedroom door and brought in some coffee.
“I should have bought you a dressing gown.” He remarked. “The colours of that kaftan are really awful.” He went on, sitting on the foot of the bed to sip his own coffee.
“I didn't buy it for the colours but because it's comfortable and useful for travelling. I sent most of my clothes back to Cambridge.” Rosemary retorted peevishly.
“Well I hope they are in better taste.” Vittorio remarked Rosemary looked at him startled and then smiled abruptly.
“I doubt it Sophie always said I had no colour sense and no taste.” She was sad suddenly. Then a frown on her face asked “Vittorio, do you have any sisters.”
“Yes.” He returned startled by the question. “One Emillia she must be three or four years older than you.”
Rosemary nodded she wasn't surprised, not after the way he calmly criticised her clothes. He was probably a good brother. Sophie for all her faults had been a caring older sister with an unexpectedly strong maternal streak. Ricardo was going to miss so much losing father and mother. Rosemary tenderly kissed his small head.” What do you want to do today?” She asked Vittorio. He had noticed the sadness come into her eyes and was touched by it, she was very brave this child almost alone in the world and taking on the burden of her sisters infant.
“I want to check the documents Stefano sent me. I'll have to set up his computer since they are on computer discs. Before that I thought we might go to the market and buy something for you to cook tonight.” He said. Rosemary looked at him in dismay and amusement.
“Me!” She exclaimed. “Cook!” Vittorio raised his eyebrows at her.
“Surly you can cook.” He retorted.
“Italian cultural attitudes.” Rosemary teased. “All females can cook; they are probably born wi
“These days most people men as well as women can cook.” Vittorio pointed out coldly but Rosemary could see he was not really annoyed.
“Can you cook?” She asked bluntly, sure he couldn't.
“Did Sophie prefer to do all the cooking herself then.” He asked, not answering her question. He knew she had guessed he couldn't cook either.
Rosemary collapsed with laughter and Vittorio took Ricardo from her before she could drop or squash him. It was several minutes before she could calm down enough to speak again.
“Sophie cook! I had the fire brigade out twice in one month because Sophie set the grill on fire trying to make toast. She was expelled from school because she wouldn't attend cookery lessons although that was Cousin Janet's fault.”
“Your sister would rather be expelled than learn to cook?” Vittorio asked he wasn't surprised Sophie had obviously been a character!
“Yes she was only nine as well, but when she wrote home and complained she didn't want to learn to cook Cousin Janet wrote back and said even in these days girls needed to be domesticated and that if she wanted a happy marriage she need to be able to cook.”
“Enough to put anyone of.” Vittorio agreed amused. “Your sister must have been very stubborn though.”
“More like bloody minded.” Rosemary returned, then at his glance added. “I know it's not an elegant expression but applied to Sophie or Grandfather it's accurate.”
“What did the pair of you live on?” Vittorio asked ignoring her comment.
“We had a microwave; you can buy lots of ready cooked meals that just need reheating. Sophie wasn't interested in food; I don't think she really noticed what she was eating. I make lovely salads though, and we could buy cold meat and cheese to go with it.” she offered. Vittorio nodded unless they ate out it seemed the best solution.
Rosemary enjoyed the market, and after six months in Mexico she could bargain with the best. Her lack of Italian did nothing to hamper her, as they had agreed she stuck to Spanish and the odd word of Italian. Vittorio realised that she was picking up Italian quickly and made the most of the words she did know.
However when Rosemary tried to buy some cotton sandals in exactly the wrong shade to go with her skirt Vittorio interfered and marched her off to a shoe shop. Here he insisted on buying her a pair of very smart shoes as well as a pair of leather sandals that would go with all her new clothes. When she tried to argue with him he bought her a small but very expensive soft leather bag.
“I expect.” She muttered at him in English as they left the shop. “You are a very overbearing brother.”
“In Spanish if you please Marie Rosita.” Vittorio returned aloofly.
It was probably no good Rosemary thought trying to get the better of him. It might even be dangerous Sophie and Grandfather lost their tempers all the time and she had had no trouble coping with them. If Vittorio ever really lost his temper she felt it would be a different matter. However Rosemary doubted he ever lost it over trivial matters. They finished their shopping and stopped at a street cafe were Rosemary fed Ricardo his bottle. With him pacified they had lunch themselves. Rosemary with Ricardo on her lap.
Back at the apartment Vittorio found Stefano's somewhat ancient computer, hidden in a locked cupboard and set it up. Meanwhile Rosemary watched by Ricardo in his rocker chair set to work to produce two salads. One a fruit salad to be eaten with yoghurt, and the other a main meal. Occupied with the salads and Ricardo it was some time before she realised that Vittorio was having problems. She finished making her salads and tidied up before putting Ricardo down for a sleep in his basket. With that done she heated up some of the coffee Vittorio had left ready and took a cup over to him.
“Grazie.” he said absently as she put the coffee down beside him.
Rosemary looked over his shoulder at the screen. There was a document in Italian on it or at least it had started out as a document now however about a third of the letters in the document had ‘fallen out’ and were muddled at the bottom of the screen.
“Looks like you have a virus.” Rosemary said softly Vittorio turned surprised replying.
“The software was certified as being free of all bugs.” Rosemary could hear that under his cold manner he was irritated.
“You don't know much about computers.” She suggested gently.
“And you do.” Vittorio said a faint sneer in his voice.
“I never did tell you what I wanted to read at University did I.” Rosemary returned calmly Vittorio's eyes widened as he looked at her.
“Computers?” He questioned eagerly.
“Computer science and programming.” She corrected. “Computers have been my hobby for years, Grandfather and Sophie didn't approve.” Vittorio raised his eyebrows at this and she realised she really liked it when he did that.
“They thought computers were tools or toys, not something you took seriously.” Suddenly she laughed. “Do you know what reconciled Sophie to my computer?” She asked her voice full of laughter “When I realised our capital was very badly invested I started to research the stock exchange and the markets. Sophie was terrified I might turn into an economist, so she started approving and encouraging my interest in computers.”
“It sounds like Sophie suffered from intellectual snobbery.” Vittorio remarked he rather wished he had met Sophie.
“Inherited it from Grandfather.” Rosemary explained. “Drink your coffee before it goes cold.”
Vittorio rose and took his coffee over to the settee and indicated that Rosemary should join him. “Come here Marie Rosita.” He said. “And tell me all about computers.”
“If you're sure you don't mind.” Rosemary said. “Men don't usually like being told about computer by girls.”
“I promise not to be upset.” Vittorio remarked, and Rosemary was sure that behind his cold manner he was laughing at her.
Rosemary was also quite sure he would not be pleased by what she had to tell him and decided to approach it slowly.
“Bugs and Viruses are very different.” She explained. “A bug is an error in a programme, most are simple errors. It's impossible to be sure that a programme is completely bug free. A few years ago one of the American telephone networks crashed due to a bug in its computer software, the software had been in use for more than twenty years before the bug showed up.”
“So the salesman who sold us our computer programme was being less than truthful.” Vittorio asked.
“Well I shouldn't buy a second hand car from him.” Rosemary returned.
“And viruses.” Vittorio questioned Rosemary sighed inaudibly.
“Viruses are small programmes that copy themselves. If you put a disc which has a virus on it into your computer the virus sits in the computer’s memory and copies itself onto every disc you put in the computer. It's because of the way they copy themselves that gives them their name. Once on your disc they sit there quietly until triggered what they do then depends. One famous virus is triggered by the date, on the 1'st of April the virus causes computer programmes to crash. Different viruses do different things.” She went on suddenly stern. “You should always close a computer down for at least one minute between discs. That destroys everything in the memory. And anyway you should never use a new disc without checking it against a special virus killer programme.”
“So if I want to read the information on the discs I will need to buy a virus killer programme.” Vittorio asked Rosemary looked worried she hoped the information on the disc was not important.
“A virus killer would stop any more damage to the disc, but there isn't a programme that will repair the damage done by the virus you have.” Rosemary admitted slowly.
Vittorio went white and very quiet and still, Rosemary was a little frightened she could cope with tantrums and people who threw words and objects, but she was of the opinion that Vittorio's anger was far more dangerous than her grandfather or sisters. When he turned to look at her his
“Stefano and his brother risked prison to break into the offices of my father’s company to get that information.” He finally ground out slowly. Rosemary despite her red hair was the quiet member of her family but all the Lampton's could be volatile and abruptly Rosemary exploded.
“They did what.” She almost shrieked. “Breaking into offices! That is the most stupid thing I have ever heard! Haven't any of you anymore more sense than that!”
Vittorio interrupted her, amazed at the unexpected anger. “You'll wake Ricardo.”
Rosemary scowled at him and picking up the Moses basket she carried Ricardo through to the bedroom and came back shutting both the doors. She closed them very carefully as if she would like to slam them. Vittorio was fascinated by the change in her, Marie Rosita usually calm, placid and quiet was now in a total rage she seemed to be surrounded by a cloud of anger even her hair seemed to vibrate with it.
“Of all the gormless! Totally idiotic and senseless things to do! That's criminal, it's burglary. It's, it's stupid.” She hissed. “Nobody but nobody breaks into premises to access a computer. Why do men never use the brains that God gave them?”
“Rosie, Rosie,” Vittorio said gently, he had recovered his temper as she lost hers. “Come and sit down and calm down. I didn't do it and wasn't even my idea so you have no need to lose your temper with me. Sit down I'll get you some more coffee.” Rosemary sat down still fuming.
“If you want to access the computer system why didn't you do it properly? Burgling offices you can get into trouble that way.” She exclaimed giving no sign of calming down. She did however take the coffee Vittorio gave her and almost choked on the first sip, Vittorio had added brandy to it.
“It's supposed to be good for shock.” He remarked suavely. “If you don't break into offices to get information from a computer, what do you do?” He asked, he was sure she knew. Why else would she have lost her temper?
“You use a modem, and phone the system” She said impatiently.
“Marie Rosita, if a computer was a car. I would know where to put the petrol and the ignition key. Explain.” Rosemary glared at him.
“A modem is a piece of computer hardware which you plug into both the computer and the telephone socket. You need the proper software, computer programme, and then your computer phones the target computer via the modem. It's easy all you have to do then is find the password and you're into the system.” Rosemary explained. He made lovely coffee, even the brandy didn't spoil it, she thought.
“I know the passwords.” Vittorio remarked. Rosemary wrapped in a brandy haze frowned.
“That's a pity.” She remarked. “Finding the password is often the most interesting part.”
“Isn't that what they call computer hacking.” Vittorio asked, he rather thought the brandy had gone straight to Marie Rosita's head.
“Only if you get caught.” She pointed out.
“And nobody ever caught you.” Vittorio asked amused he didn't think she would have been quite so forth coming without the help of the brandy. Then he became more serious. “If I take you to a computer shop tomorrow will you help me buy a modem and the proper software to run it?” He asked.
“Don’t you have a laptop?” She questioned surprised.
“I had a company laptop and a company car.” Vittorio explained. “I was never much into gadgets though.” He had no intention of explaining that his indifference was generated by his dislike of his half-brother the son of his father’s mistress who always had to have the newest latest gadget.
“We'd be better of getting a wireless laptop with all the latest security software on it. A printer would be a good idea if you can afford one.” Rosemary looked at him enquiringly.
“That should be no trouble.” Vittorio assured her it seems the little Maria Rosita was going to be more useful than just as a screen against anyone seeking him, he added abruptly. “If you're hungry we could have dinner now.”
Vittorio helped Rosemary lay the table while continuing to draw her out on the subject of computers. There was sliced veal, cold sliced sausage, two types of bread and Marie Rosita's salad in a very large bowl. Vittorio serving himself with some of the salad expressed his surprise.
“I was expecting limp lettuce and soggy tomato.” He admitted. The salad contained two types of lettuce shredded, tiny whole tomatoes, finely sliced onion, red and yellow rings of sweet peppers, whole blanched almonds, cheese cubes, black olives, shredded fresh herbs and some kind of bean. Rosemary smiled her understanding.
“I said I could make a salad.” She replied “If I had a lot of studying or research to do I would make a salad in the morning and nibble at it all day. It's all good for you and making a salad doesn't set of the smoke alarm.”
“Living with your sister couldn't have been very peaceful.” Vittorio remarked.
“Neither was living with Grandfather” Rosemary replied quick to jump to her sister’s defence. “But poor Sophie had a lot to worry her you know. She was left with a thirteen year old to look after, and by the time we paid death duties we had hardly any money. She had to let the house and we moved into the basement. It's no wonder her temper got worse.”
“You didn't have any other relatives to help the two of you.” Vittorio asked.
“Only Cousin Janet and she didn't like us. As soon as Grandfather was safely buried she started arranging to emigrate to Australia she has cousins there. No relations of ours. Cousin Janet approved of them they had proper children who went to school their girls all married young. They didn’t want to be Professors.”
“Not a feminist?” Vittorio questioned thoughtfully, a note of amusement in his cool voice. “She wouldn't have got on with your sister very well.”
“Cousin Janet didn't even get on with me very well and I'm much more tolerant than Sophie is - than Sophie was.” She finished quietly.
“Why on earth did she stay with you for so long if she disapproved of you all so much?”
“She was afraid of Grandfather.” Rosemary explained maliciously. “I hated her some times. She used to tell Sophie she would never marry as men liked women who were biddable.”
Vittorio almost choked on his wine at this. From what Marie Rosita had told him of her sister he had built up a picture of her as highly intelligent, volatile, tempestuous, warm and loving. Biddable didn't fit the picture at all.
“What did she think of your chances of marriage?” He asked, Rosemary frowned then flushed. Before telling him diffidently.
“Well she always told me men didn't marry ‘clever’ women.”
They managed to eat more than half the salad and Marie Rosita sealed the rest of it up for the following day. Then she put out the fruit salad and yoghourt. Vittorio having helped himself lavishly to the salad and was just about to add yoghourt when Rosemary touched his hand.
“Just a minute.” She said surprised at her temerity. Vittorio was not the kind of person who indulged in unnecessary contact. He looked down at her hand and raised his brows. Rosemary took his spoon and the yoghurt away from him. She fetched a teaspoon and gave him a taste of the yoghurt Vittorio pulled a face at it
“I forgot it's unsweetened.” Rosemary apologised and finding a bowl and some sugar and mixed yoghurt and sugar till Vittorio approved the flavour.
Rosemary had her fruit with the unsweetened yoghurt he noticed. Ricardo woke up while they were still at the table and Rosemary fed him some of the sweetened yoghurt while his bottle warmed up. His tooth had come through and consequently he was a much happier baby and much easier to look after.
In the morning they found a computer shop by the simple expedient of looking in the local telephone directory. It was in a side street near the railway station. Marie Rosita spent a blissful hour spending a lot of Vittorio's money. Vittorio had found it very amusing he had taken women shopping before, they had been only too glad to spend his money adorning themselves. None of them had checked that she was not spending too mu
The young men in the shop had been only too happy to help a pretty young girl, until they realised the extent of her knowledge. One of them trying to sell her something she didn't want tried to go over her head and deal with Vittorio. It gave Vittorio a lot of pleasure to verbally slap him down and refer him back to Marie Rosita. They emerged from the shop with a top of the range laptop; a surprisingly small printer that Marie Rosita assured him was the best on the market, paper, ink cartridges, several memory sticks, a very smart black leather laptop case and the very latest computer magazines.
Having put their purchases in the boot of the car, Vittorio took Marie Rosita and Ricardo around the wax museum, which was situated in the station. After a look around the museum they had lunch at a small restaurant and then went back to the apartment.
Leaving Marie Rosita to charge and test out the new laptop Vittorio went out to the telephone at an office of the SIP the national Italian telephone company. The phone in the flat was not connected and after the last irate call from his father he had thrown his mobile phone out of the car window just minutes before meeting Marie Rosita.
So while Ricardo was having his afternoon sleep Rosemary set up and tested the printer and laptop looking for and finding a public Wi-Fi network and also two unsecured private networks. It always surprised her how many people didn’t bother with proper security for their computers. After that she checked Vittorio’s computer discs against the virus killer. She had suggested waiting till the office was closed before hacking into the system, there would be nobody at the other end to notice anything odd happening.
When Vittorio returned it was clear he had something on his mind, but he made them some coffee before telling Marie Rosita what he had learned.
“Stefano's heard from Francisca, whose niece is a maid of the Alessi's, they have made a complaint to the police. Concerning you.” He told her as gently as he could.
“What for.” Rosemary questioned suddenly fearful. “I have legal custody of Ricardo, if only from a Mexican court.”
“They make no mentioned of Ricardo at all. They have accused you of theft.” Rosemary looked appalled. “Georgino Alessi has been very clever.” Vittorio said gently. “He accuses you of robbing his family while you stayed with them. This way he can have the police search for you. No doubt he intends to offer not to press charges if you hand over Ricardo.”
“If he thinks I would let him get away with that he must be a fool.” Rosemary snapped. “I'd go straight to the papers and the British Embassy.”
“He obviously thinks you’re a seventeen year old foreign child who he can scare. You have to remember he doesn't know you very well.”
“What do you think I should do?” Rosemary questioned anxiously.
“Keep to the plan we have already made.” Vittorio insisted. “We'll travel down to Otranto and cross to Kerkira. There's an airport on the island so you can fly home from there.”
Rosemary was rather sad at the idea of returning to Britain. It was six months since she’d left; she was going to miss Sophie much more in the home they had shared. Cambridge no longer felt like home now she had lost her sister.
Having washed up the cups, Rosemary used one of the unsecured networks she’d identified to link to the internet from there it was easy to assess the computer at Vittorio’s father’s company. Within two minutes of switching the laptop on they were being asked for the passwords. Vittorio was soon deep into the firm’s records reading documents and memos he had previously been denied access to. Rosemary left him to it making up Ricardo's bottles, and laying the table for dinner. She kept a close eye on the computer though and Vittorio was amused to realise his little Marie Rosita didn't trust him to manage by himself. She printed out documents and saved information he was interested in to the prepared discs and memory sticks, Vittorio wanted them on both, he didn’t he was playing it very safe. Eventually Rosemary curled up in a chair where she could watch the screen and operate the computer while she fed Ricardo his bottle. She was hungry but Vittorio was too involved to think of eating, she was also bored.
Rosemary could read Latin but although Italian was the closest modern language to Latin this was little help in reading business papers. However eventually she spotted a name she recognised.
“Vittorio stop a moment. There's a reference to a company called J Tanset ltd. could you tell me what it's about.” She asked urgently.
“You know the company.” Vittorio asked surprised.
“We have some of their shares.” Rosemary admitted. Vittorio scanned through the references to Tanset there was a whole file of them.
“Their preparing a takeover bid but very quietly.” Vittorio said puzzled.
“A takeover!” Rosemary repeated puzzled. “But the companies practically defunct. They imported and exported goods then there was civil war their overseas office and warehouse was brown up and burnt out. Then the managing director died. The company is still quoted on the stock exchange but not for much longer. Why should anyone want to buy?
“You really do know about the company.” Vittorio commented continuing to read through the documents concerned.
“Sophie and I own five thousand shares in the firm they cost Grandfather over three pounds a share now they sell at five pence each. Whoever runs your company must be mad!”
“No.” Vittorio returned gravely. “My beloved cousin by marriage is not mad on the contrary.” His voice was smooth as silk and Rosemary was very pleased she wasn't his cousin. “Apparently my dear cousin is a friend of the company’s secretary. Tanset own land in London as well as abroad, it appears in the books of the company but the valuation given is very out of date. My cousin has had the London land valued at over five million pounds it appears in the books as well under a million.”
“How is it no one’s noticed the discrepancy.” Rosemary wondered.
“According to the company secretary it appears in the books as a run-down office and the valuation was worked out from the rent it receives.
However the office is over a large derelict warehouse alongside a railway line and close to the river and the docks. My cousin even has a development company who are interested in the property.”
“But he doesn't even own it yet.” Rosemary objected.
“That hasn't stopped him promising them first refusal if he can persuade his board to sell.” Vittorio said, and Rosemary was quite frankly shocked.
“That’s immoral.” She said angrily. “Isn't there anyway we can stop him.”
“The takeover is on hold because the company secretary has been ill, he expects to be back at work in two weeks and the takeover is scheduled for then.” Vittorio read.
“So we have a chance to step in ourselves. How much did you say the shares were worth now?”
“They were quoted at five pence in yesterday’s paper.” Rosemary answered obediently. “If there is a takeover won't my shares be worth more?”
“Not as much as if we can stop the takeover.” Vittorio retorted. “At least I think so; I have a friend on the exchange I'll phone him in the morning.”
“You have friends everywhere.” Rosemary said huffily he obviously was not going to explain his ideas to her.
“I need to talk to Jonathan about my ideas.” Vittorio reassured her. “You print out the whole file and close down the computer and I'll put the food on the table and make coffee. In fact I think I'll go and buy some wine, we may have something to celebrate.”