Fallen Gods

Three

Paula Viareggio looked to her left and saw herself in the big mirror that stretched across the width of the dressing table. She saw him too, although he was lost somewhere in a dream. She slid out from underneath his muscular arm, rolled out of the huge sleigh bed and stood up.

Still looking in the mirror, she touched herself between her breasts with a fingertip, then traced it slowly down to her navel. Not bad, she thought, appraising her body in the morning light. She did not think of herself as being vain; no, she was simply proud of her olive skin with its velvet feel, of her long supple limbs, and of her classic high-cheekboned face. Most of all she was proud of her long cascading hair, turned silver from black in her mid twenties, helped on its way, if truth be told, by some judicious colouring by Charlie Kettles, her hairdresser. "Yes, not bad for thirty-something," she murmured.

She heard a muffled grunt behind her, as Mario McGuire came back to wakefulness.

"Where you gone?" he whispered.

"Nowhere," she answered.

"Come back in here then."

"Let me guess," she laughed. "You're going to tell me you're at your best in the mornings."

"Something like that," he agreed, cheerfully.

"As if I didn't know that already." She turned towards him, facing the bed. "This can't go on, you know."

He propped himself up on an elbow. "Bloody hell," he exclaimed. "You spend all those years trying to get me into your bed, and now you're giving me a hard time over it."

"You know what I mean, Mario," she said, heavily. "This situation can't go on. What did you tell your wife this time? Are you working late in Galashiels again?"

"I didn't tell her anything. Things are bad enough between Maggie and me, without burdening them with unnecessary lies."

Her mouth dropped open for a second or two, until she loosed a short, sarcastic laugh. "Hah! Are you going to tell her where you've been, then… presuming you deign to go home at some point today?"

"No. I'm not going to tell her anything, and she's not going to ask. I promise you that. She won't."

"You're kidding yourself!"

"Maggie will not rock the boat."

"If it was my bloody boat, I'd tip you over the side. In fact I think

I'll do just that." She reached out, grabbed a corner of the duvet and yanked it away, uncovering him. "Go on," she said. "Get up, get dressed and go on home to your wife, and your new family, where you belong!"

He smiled up at her. "If you really mean that, I will." He rolled out of bed in a single easy movement and headed for the bathroom.

Involuntarily, she reached out and caught his wrist, before he was halfway there; he turned and pulled her towards him, enveloping her in his arms, pressing her body against his, burying his face in her hair.

"No," he whispered, "I didn't think so."

They moved back to the bed, leaving the duvet on the floor. "Listen to me," Mario said softly, stroking her belly with the flat of his right hand. "A few months ago, on any given Saturday morning in Edinburgh, it would have been Maggie and me lying like this. I loved her, no mistake, and I wouldn't have looked at another woman. I still wouldn't, if it weren't for you. But that's all gone; Mags has changed, and changed for good."

"But why?" she asked. "And why so suddenly? That's what I don't understand."

He kissed her on the forehead. "I don't think I can find the words to tell you… no, not even you… exactly why, or how, it happened.

Let's just say that all her life, she's been fighting this battle with herself, about how she relates to men; now, finally, she's lost it." He hesitated. "Paulie," he asked, 'can I trust you to keep a secret?"

"Don't be daft. You know you can."

"Okay." He fixed her with his eyes. "Maggie was raped," he told her, firing the words at her, watching her hands go to her mouth in horror, waiting as she took it in. "The man who did it killed himself," he went on, when she was ready, 'and it was all covered up, but that's what her emotional breakdown, the one we pretended was flu, was about: not all, but that was a big part of it. Now, in the aftermath, even though she's back in control of herself, she just can't bear me to touch her. She can live with me around the house, okay. We're pleasant to each other. We still care for each other. But physically, our marriage is over."

Paula looked up at him with doubt in her eyes. "She'll get over it in time though, won't she?"

"No," he replied. "No, she won't, or at least it's very unlikely that she will. She's had counselling, we've both had counselling, and the top guy in the business has told us that in his opinion, nothing's likely to change."

"But can't she be put on medication?"

He snorted. "What? Love potion number nine, do you mean? No, Paulie, there is no medication that will counter what's wrong with Mags. She's lost the ability to love, and not just to make love, either. She's withdrawn herself from me."

"Aren't you even going to try to draw her back?"

"Turn on the McGuire charm, you mean? No, I'm not."

"But why not? The two of you had so much going for you." She frowned.

"I know it's a hell of a thing for me to be saying, but surely, big boy, if you really gave it a go…"

"Yes, but that's the point. I loved her, and I still care for her, but

I don't love the woman she's become. We sleep in separate bedrooms now, and one night I heard her locking her door. She doesn't need to, though. I've got no wish to open it."

"But what about the wee boy you're adopting? The lad you took in after he was orphaned. I thought the idea was that you were going to raise him together."

He drew in a deep breath. "We are, and until Maggie says different, we will. I'll go home this morning and we'll take Rufus out. If it's as nice a day as yesterday, we might take him to the seaside."

"Will you be allowed to adopt him, though? I thought you had to have social workers confirm that you have a stable marriage, and all that guff."

Mario hesitated. "What?" she asked, reading his indecision, as he pulled himself up to lean against the high, curved headboard of the bed.

"I didn't want to tell you this; I didn't want to tell anyone who doesn't have to know, but especially not you. So promise me again it stays our secret." She nodded. "The thing is," he continued, 'we don't need the law to let us adopt Rufus. He's Maggie's half-brother."

He looked at her as she worked through the implications of what he had told her. "God!" she whispered at last.

"God had no hand in it," he said, grimly. "Mags's father, may he rot in peace, was a real bastard. Rufus's mother was barely more than a kid, but he liked them young… liked to hurt them too. Anyway, even if the relationship wasn't there, we wouldn't have a problem with the social workers. We're both detective superintendents of police, for fuck's sake."

"How could I forget?" she muttered. "Okay, so you've told me. That's how things are for you. So where does it leave you and me?"

He smiled at her. "It leaves us, cousin, as joint trustees of the

Viareggio family enterprises, with compelling business reasons to meet regularly… even if I have given a bright young corporate lawyer my power of attorney, because of my public position." He looked down at her long body and grinned. "It's perfect cover for having it off as well." He paused. "Talking about cover, you know my mum's moving to Tuscany pretty soon? I was thinking about going out to help her settle into her new place. Do you fancy coming?"

Paula managed to gasp and laugh at the same time. "Are you crazy?" she exclaimed. "I may have lusted after your body for most of my adult life, Mario, but the last thing I want is for my Auntie Christina to find out that I've finally got it. The same goes for any other member of our family, and maybe for anyone at all, if you value your job."

"It's a big house that my mother's bought," he pointed out. "And don't forget; she's very clever and she's very, very shrewd. She knows about you and me, I'll bet, even though she hasn't said anything."

"You serious?"

"Sure. I'm her only son; we don't need speech to communicate."

"But what'll she be thinking about it?"

"Same as me… Keep it to yourselves… which is, I suppose the best advice we could have. I concede also that going to Italy together would be taking it too far, from the family's point of view. So we won't." He paused. "Not that the job is a consideration, though."

She looked surprised once again. "What? Is the police force not big enough for you and Maggie any more?"

He shook his head. "No, that's not it. I'm not sure that I'm as committed to it as I need to be: not any more, at any rate. We're all still stunned by what happened to Bob Skinner; things just aren't what they were without him around."

"Yes," she agreed, 'that was a shocker. What his wife must be feeling; to have him collapse just like that in the middle of her parents' funeral."

"Too right. As for me, well, Willie Haggerty, the assistant chief constable and Dan Pringle, the head of CID, may be good guys, but put together they don't make one of big Bob. I just can't get used to the idea of him not being around any more. With everything else that's going on in my life, the idea of turning it in and running the Trust full-time has its appeal."

Paula drew herself up beside him. "Do you mean that?"

"I'm not sure. How would you feel if I did?"

"Honestly? A bit scared. The way things are, I can handle it when you go home; but if we were working together through the day, it might be more difficult. Have you talked to Neil about this?"

"Mcllhenney? About us? Not in so many words, but he's nearly as close to me as my mother. He knows too."

"Not about us, you idiot, about leaving the force?"

"Yes. He says he feels much the same. He was the big fella's executive assistant, remember, as well as being one of his few real pals. But at least he can shut himself away in the Special Branch office, and go home to Louise and the kids every night."

She turned her head and looked him in the eye. "And you can't, can you, you poor love. All you can do is fit me in, whenever the opportunity arises."

He slid his arm around her shoulders and pulled her down until they were lying side by side once again. "It's a hard old life, Paulie," he said, and then he grinned, the bright wicked smile she had known for so long, and wished for so long to have directed at her. "All we can do is get on with it." He rolled over, into her embrace. "Hey," he whispered in her ear. "What?"

"I really am at my best in the mornings, you know." She beamed at him.

"Oh, I know, I know. I really do!"