Free Broken Chord by Margaret Moore

downstairs.
    Marta looked up as they came in. Tebaldo’s children had both inherited his good looks. They were like two little clones of their father. Arabella was four and Camilla, three.
    “We were wondering if there are any of those biscuits left, you know the ones Paola made?”
    “Of course. Why don’t you sit down at the table? Who wants a glass of milk?”
    “Me, me!” shouted the girls together.
     
    Tebaldo went into the salotto , restrained a grimace at the sight of Guido stretched elegantly on the sofa, flicking through a glossy magazine, as though posing for a celebrity photo, and asked tersely, “Where’s my mother?”
    “Dear boy, I am not your mother’s keeper. I have no idea.”
    “I want to borrow the car. She knows, but I can’t find the keys.”
    “What’s happened? Has your delightful wife taken your car? I thought I heard a car take off rather thoughtlessly fast. It really messes up the gravel, you know.”
    Tebaldo felt an unreasonable surge of rage at what seemed to him a declaration of ownership. “Mind your own business, you interfering little prick. It’s not your gravel.”
    Guido leapt to his feet and threw down the magazine. “Listen Tebaldo, I want to make something quite clear to you. I expect a little more respect from you. Don’t talk to me as if I’m some kind of servant. I’m not, and whether you like it or not, I’m going to marry your mother.”
    “And you listen to me, you jumped up little gigolo. There’s no point in pretending that this marriage is anything but ridiculous. If I could stop you marrying her, I would. I sometimes think she must be off her head. What the hell does she see in you?”
    “How dare you! I’ll tell her what you said. How will you like that?”
    “I don’t give a damn. Tell her what you like. She knows quite well how I feel about this. If she needs sex, I don’t see why things couldn’t have gone on as they are. I assume you provide that service, though you hardly look up to it. Why is she marrying you? What have you got on her?”
    “You disgust me. She’s marrying me because I’ll make a good husband.”
    Tebaldo began to laugh quietly, then he threw back his head and roared with laughter, tears streaming from his eyes. “That’s rich, really amazing. I wonder what you think makes a good husband.”
    “Well, I’d hardly expect you to know, since you aren’t one yourself.”
    “Vicious little bastard, aren’t you.”
    “No, I’m merely stating a fact, my dear boy.” Guido gave him a huge smile.
    “I’m not your dear boy. Don’t call me that.”
    “Alright, if you promise never to call me Papa.”
    They glared at each other, then Guido, held out his hand, “Peace.”
    Tebaldo gave him a scorching look, turned his back on him and marched towards the door. He fired a parting shot before leaving the room. “It won’t last long you know. You’ll end up like all the others, and you won’t get anything out of it, so don’t think you will.”
    Guido grinned as he sat down again. Of course he would get something out of it, and considering how much he was putting into this relationship, that was only right. All he had to do was wait.

CHAPTER SIX
    Lunch was late. Guido and Ursula had waited for Teo and Isabella before starting, until it became obvious they were not coming. What little remained of Ursula’s good humour had vanished when she realised that neither her son nor his wife had had the decency to phone. She ate with Guido and the two little girls who, possibly aware of the unexpressed disapproval of their parents’ absence, were remarkably subdued. Marta fussed about in the kitchen with Paola, the cook, and muttered about good manners. She took the food in and pointedly removed the two place settings from the table.
    The atmosphere was tense and the meal was quickly over. Ursula was inwardly seething. When Marta came back with the coffee she said, “Marta, I think the children should have a little rest before