Cobalt (8 page)

            Madeline wandered aimlessly through the hundreds of stalls. She casually examined the merchandise and haggled with the sales people, like a local, speaking perfect Italian. She brought a fine silk scarf and a small marble  replica of Michelangelo’s statue of David, for the fish-tank on the shelf in their shared office. She looked at her watch. Three hours had passed since Rick had left her at the gelato shop. She began to move back through the markets, towards the Duomo. She had wanted to visit the nearby Ponte Vecchio, which housed the goldsmiths' and jewellers' shops, but the day had escaped her. The bridge was built around 1350 AD, and it was the only bridge in Florence spared during World War II. Madeline decided that one day she would return to Florence and cross the bridge to visit the Palazzo Pitti. She read the brochure she had picked up at one of the stalls. It gave brief descriptions of all the Florentine attractions, and told her that the Pitti Palace had once housed the grand dukes of Tuscany from 1550 to 1859, however now it contained another famous art collection, particularly rich in works by Andrea del Sarto, Raphael, Il Perugino, Titian, and Tintoretto. Behind the Palace were the vast Boboli Gardens, botanical gardens of great beauty that Madeline had wanted to visit since she had first seen their photograph in a school text book. The picture in the brochure was just as spectacular as the one she remembered. As she turned the corner to stand directly in front of the Duomo she noticed that the sun had dropped behind the buildings and it was getting dark, quickly. As she moved along one of the narrow, cobbled side streets, her phone rang. Thinking it was Rick, she answered quickly.

     ‘Hello?’

     ‘Madeline?’

     ‘Yes.’

     ‘Location confirmed. Club Fun is a cover for the terrorist operation. You have clearance.. Proceed with caution.’ Madeline tensed. As the message ended, Madeline thanked the phone. She felt a bit silly thanking a computer-generated speaker, but she did it none-the-less. Madeline dialed the hotel in which they were staying while they were in Florence.

     ‘Mr Glazer's room, please.’

     ‘I'm sorry, he asked me to hold all calls.’ answered the concierge.

     ‘How long ago was that?’

     ‘About three hours, Signora.’

     ‘Did he give a reason?’

     ‘He said he and his wife didn't wish to be disturbed.’

     ‘That's funny. I'm his wife! Well, thank you.’ Madeline ended the call and thought to herself, I'm his wife in terms of the mission, anyway. She hurried back to the hotel, winding through the cobbled streets in the dusk light. Once inside the elevator she mentally and physically gained control over herself. She was not about to burst into the room, and make a complete fool of herself. Until now she had been able to separate her feelings from her work, and her associates, and she was determined not to discontinue now. As she reached their door, she heard laughter coming from inside the room. Quietly she opened the door, preparing herself for anything.

            Madeline strode confidently through the door, to be confronted by Rick and Angela seated on the couch, champagne in hand. Rick's shirt was open. Madeline quickly composed herself and addressed the blonde.

     ‘Angela, lovely to see you again. Rick, we've been given the go ahead. Say goodbye. Let's go.’ Madeline crossed the room and retrieved her gun from inside the lid of her suitcase. ‘Angela, be a dear and lock the door as you leave.’ she stated as she checked to see if the pistol was fully loaded. Clicking the bullet clip into position, Madeline walked back out the door, slipping the gun into her waistband, as she went. It took Rick a second to recover.

     ‘I'm sorry, Angela. It was nice seeing you again.’ Madeline looked back through the open doorway, at the two of them on the lounge. Thinking of what might have occurred over the past three hours made her ill. She snapped at Rick, unable to keep the jealousy and the anger out of her voice.

     ‘Move it!’ She turned and left once more.

Rick, hearing the tone of her voice, jumped up, grabbed his gun and went to follow her. Remembering Angela, he stated bluntly.

     ‘I won't ever be calling you, so please don't call me again!’ With that he left the room, leaving Angela sitting on the lounge, in a state of total confusion.

     ‘You called me, you jerk!’ she screamed after him, but he was already out of the building and jumping into a taxi behind Madeline.

     She looked at him. ‘I'm glad you got that out of your system. Now you won't be distracted, while we are working.’ He went to make eye contact, but she snapped her gaze out the side window. Despite her ice tone, and harsh words, Rick suspected, Rick knew she was hurt. He wanted to tell her nothing had happened, but perhaps this was exactly what Madeline needed to force her to open up to him, to force her to admit her true feelings for him. He decided to use Madeline's obvious jealousy to his advantage.

CHAPTER 12

It had been a long day one of many Gillian had had recently, so she was ready for bed. She walked into the bedroom. William was nowhere to be seen. After the fight that they had had, last night, and her talking to him earlier today, Gillian expected to find William waiting to reconcile. She had made her mind up, as she walked down the hallway, from the dining room, not to fall for his charm tonight. After all, she was still mad with him, over the infidelity accusations that had been filtering in through the press. That and the phone calls she’d receive from women who would call at all hours of the night, and when she’d pick up they’d respond, ‘Oh, you’re there. Sorry,’ and hang up. She had never been able to stay mad at William, but tonight she had decided her anger would last longer than its usual twenty-four hours. And she’d nearly made it.

William stood behind one of the French doors, waiting for Gillian to enter the room. In his mind, and many of his surrounding congressmen, she was a beautiful creature, and he wanted to get back on her good side. She was intelligent and an important part of his political team. In fact, William believed she was one of the main reasons he had been elected. William had been planning this evening all day, especially as Gillian had spoken to him, after the press conference. By speaking to him, Gillian had opened up the possibility for reconciliation, and William was definitely going to make the best of the opportunity.

As she reached the centre of the room, Elvis’ version of  ‘Unchained Melodies’ began to play. She turned to face the source of the music. As she did so, the doors closed and William appeared from behind one of them, dressed in his navy satin lined bathrobe and matching pyjamas.  Obviously she was not going to get the early night she had planned, and obviously she was right about William wanting to seduce her into forgiving him. He smiled and walked towards her. She pouted.

     ‘May I have this dance, Madame?’ he said, holding out his arms for her to take.

     ‘If you must.’ She rolled her eyes at him. He always picked the strangest times, to get intimate. But then again, it wasn't very often he joined her before midnight. He was a very busy man whose schedule was only interrupted out of dire necessity. And obviously, in his mind, reconciling with her was a necessity. Gillian smiled. At least I’m still important to him, she decided. At that thought her anger began to dissolve.

     ‘Oh, don't sound so enthusiastic...’

     ‘No, really, I'd be delighted.’ She smiled at him. This time, she meant it.

     ‘That's better, now there's just one thing you have to know...’

     ‘And that would be?’

     ‘I have to warn you, when I dip, I dip low, and I dip often.’ With that he took her in his arms, and twirled her around the room. When William danced he really performed for the audience, even if there was no one to really see. He covered the whole floor, and partook in a number of fancy moves. Something that was not widely known about him, was that in high school, thinking that he could meet girls easily, he took up ballroom dancing. Those six months really paid off. He met girls, and now he didn't make a fool of himself, when it came to balls he attended as part of his job.

As William got Gillian over the bed, he dipped her ninety degrees, and then dropped her onto her back, on the bed. He fell down beside her. It was Gillian's turn to lead. She rolled over, towards her husband, and went to kiss him.

     ‘Mum?’

     ‘Saved by the bell, Mr. President.’ she whispered.

     ‘Mum, will you come and tuck me in.?’ It was Rianna. She had been in bed for two hours, and chose now to want another kiss goodnight.

     ‘Ok sweetie, I'll be right there.’ Rianna left the room. Gillian looked at her husband once again. ‘Don't go anywhere, I'll be right back.’ He tried to kiss her. ‘Hold that thought.’ Gillian left the room, and went into her daughter's bedroom, two doors down the red carpeted hallway.

Rianna was sitting in her bed waiting for her mother. Gillian sat down on the bed beside her. ‘What's wrong honey?’

     ‘Is dad in trouble?’

     ‘No baby, what would make you think that?’ She looked at her daughter, with concern. For someone who was only ten years old, she worried a lot.

     ‘Suzy said Dad got a nasty letter, blaming him for something’ Rianna said, yawning.

     ‘Nothing is going to happen. It's just some mean people, nothing else. Okay?’

     ‘Okay, goodnight.’

     ‘Goodnight, baby.’ Gillian kissed her daughter on the head, waited until she had settled into sleep, thinking of how cruel children could be. Suzy was Senator Bowen's daughter. He was from the other party. She was twelve, and always picking on Rianna. She had probably told Rianna this to scare her. Gillian kissed her sleeping daughter and went back to her bedroom.

When she got there she discovered the music was no longer playing, and William was in bed, apparently asleep. She closed the doors behind her, crossed the room, taking off her satin robe as she did so, and got in beside her husband. After a minute, she rolled over and looked at his face. He was only just managing to keep his eyes closed. She blew across his cheek. William covered his face with the sheet, the movement of the fabric giving Gillian a brief glimpse of his bare shoulder and chest underneath.

     ‘Stop it Gillian, I'm not in the mood.’

     ‘Liar!’

     ‘Who are you calling a liar?’ William grabbed her wrists, twisted her onto her back, and began to tickle her. As she moved to escape his grip, she felt something hard under the centre of her back, at the same moment, the music once again filled the room. Gillian laughed as she pulled the remote from under her, and turned it off. William kissed her slightly above the navel.

     ‘I thought you said you weren't in the mood,’ she teased. William then made his way up her body, sliding the top of her lavender satin pyjamas, as he slid his hands along her sides. He kissed her between the breasts.

‘I lied...’ Then at the base of her neck.  ‘Just don't....’ On her lips. ‘Tell my wife!’ He muttered the last of his statement as he kissed her lips, more passionately.

Gillian shoved him away from her, anger suddenly taking the place of the passion she had been feeling.

   ‘That’s not very funny, William.’ She said, straightening her pyjama top. ‘You know how I feel about that. I trust you, but I’ve been given so many reasons not to. And then you go and say something like that.’

     ‘Honey, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean anything by it. I was just trying to make a joke about the accusations.’ William began to reassure her with gentle caresses.

     ‘Well, it wasn’t very funny.’ Gillian said as seriously as she could.

     ‘I love you. And there’s no-one else I want in this entire world…’

Gillian cut him off. ‘Look at this. I was sent this in the mail.’ Gillian opened the top draw of her bed-side table and removed a photograph. The picture was of William and a blonde woman strolling casually, arm in arm, down a city street. On the back read ‘Thanks for the wonderful evening. Love Angela.’  William studied the photo, and began to laugh.