Dangerous Games

  * * *

  Dangerous Games

  Copyright © Gillian Godden 2019

  All rights are reserved. No part of this publication can be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, without the written permission of the author.

  * * *

  DEDICATION

  For my son, Robert. This is for your birthday.

  Happy Birthday, Robert.

  Mum

  ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

  Thank you to Deryl Easton and the NotRights Book Club on Facebook for their help, encouragement and support.

  Sincere thanks to my neighbour, Avril, for reading drafts, supporting me, and encouraging me to keep going.

  Many thanks to my editor, Julie Lewthwaite, whose patience and guidance turned a writer into an author. http://www.mlwritingservices.co.uk/

  Cover designed by Louis Thorley.

  AUTHOR’S NOTE

  No character in this book is based on any person, alive or dead.

  CONTENTS

  THE RUNAWAY

  TOGETHER AT LAST

  STREET LIFE

  THE LONG, STRAIGHT ROAD

  NO PLACE LIKE HOME

  THE HARSH TRUTH

  HOME LIFE

  BROTHERS IN ARMS

  FAME AT LAST

  A CHANCE ENCOUNTER

  MIRIAM

  FAMILY TIES

  THE HEIST

  HIDDEN DEPTHS

  HOMEWARD BOUND

  MISTAKEN IDENTITY

  OUT WITH THE OLD

  A WELCOME PROPOSITION

  THE RUNAWAY

  ‘Come on, Antonias, get up. Shush now, quickly.’

  The bedroom was in darkness, only the moonlight shining through the blinds at the windows giving a little light to see by. Antonias yawned and rubbed his eyes.

  ‘Mummy, where are we going?’ The little boy, just five years old, looked up at his mother as she pulled back the bedclothes and began manoeuvring him out of his bed.

  ‘Shush, Antonias, we’re going to play a little game of hide and seek on Grandma and Granddad. Get up, now. Let’s be as quiet as mice.’

  Little Antonias was still half asleep, and bleary eyed. It was the middle of the night. He stood while his mother dressed him in a T-shirt and trousers.

  Annette was already dressed. She was being as quiet as she could, so she didn’t disturb the rest of the household, but even her breathing seemed to make a noise, and her heart was pounding in her ears.

  Annette would be glad to see the back of this place. When she had met Marias on holiday, she had thought this was going to be la dolce vita, the sweet life. All she had got was life on a boring grape farm, owned by his parents.

  She was nervous, but tried to hide it; she didn’t want to frighten her beautiful little boy. His mop of hair – golden, like her own – was a rarity, considering he was half-Italian, although his blue eyes were like his father’s – his, and that bitch, Miriam’s.

  Smiling and hugging him close to her, Annette made it all seem like a little secret game they were going to play.

  Antonias was still rubbing his eyes, and smiling and giggling with his mummy. Annette picked up the holdall containing the money she had taken from the safe. Miriam, her mother-in-law, had given her a cheque, but it wasn’t enough; she needed more if she was going to leave this place and start again.

  Annette took Antonias’s hand and crept down the dark staircase, towards the front door. She opened it carefully, then turned and took one last look up the staircase and around the hallway, before stepping out into the darkness of the vineyard.

  She winked at Antonias and put her finger to her lips, to indicate to him to be quiet. Slowly, they started to walk the long path that led up to the main road.

  Annette had to carry Antonias half of the way. Although he was excited by the game, he was tired, and the night air made him shiver.

  As Annette got closer to the main road, she looked around frantically. She was nearly out of breath. What with the holdall and little Antonias to carry, she was exhausted.

  She looked around again and finally spotted the truck. It was parked in a lay-by, with its headlights on low beam. Carlos got out of the truck and smiled at her, and then he saw Antonias and the smile faded.

  ***

  Carlos had made life worth living again. Annette had met him at the vineyard. He had been one of the many extra hired hands they used when the grapes were ready for picking. That was a busy time – all the grapes were ripe and needed to be picked and stored quickly.

  Carlos was exciting and funny. Annette had first seen him when she had heard the loud, clanging dinner bell and looked out of her bedroom window. All the workers were coming in from the fields to the tables that were laden with food for them all, but it was Carlos who caught her eye.

  Normally, Annette never bothered with anything to do with the vineyard. She didn’t like being away from the excitement of the big cities, and the place had seemed like a prison to her, especially over the last couple of years. Her husband, Marias, worked all the hours God sent and seemed to expect her to settle down here, like his mother, Miriam, had, all those years ago.

  Once Carlos was on the scene, however, Annette amazed the household with her sudden eagerness to help out, as she joined them outside and offered to pour the wine and help serve the food to the workers.

  Some of the hired hands, men and women who temporarily worked at many farms, offering manual labour, were grateful just to have food in their bellies. The Lambrianus were good employers who paid good wages. They were a reputable family, and had worked hard all their lives. They knew the meaning of a good meal in people’s bellies, and money to pay the rent. Some of the workers were regulars who went back year after year, when it was grape-picking season.

  Annette had watched Carlos in the hot midday Italian sun, strutting around and flirting with the young women who were working there. He also laughed and joked with the old women. He was a charmer and everyone liked him. Annette certainly liked what she saw. Tanned from the sun, and wearing only shorts and a white vest, stained from all the red grapes he had picked, he would flex his strong, muscled arms, knowing that the women at the vineyard were watching him. He was vain and proud, but as poor as a church mouse.

  Carlos had noticed Annette hanging around, her long blonde hair swinging around her shoulders making her stand out from the rest. He had watched her serving the wine and glancing in his direction.

  ‘You English, si?’ he had asked her one day, daring to speak to the boss’s wife and at the same time breaking the ice with an innocent question.

  ‘Yes, I’m from London,’ she had said, and blushed.

  He had laughed with her and the others at the tables, calling her the ‘queen’, because only the queen lived in London, and here she was serving the wine.

  Carlos had flirted with her, and she with him, whenever possible, although she always ignored him when her husband or the foreman were around, and especially when Miriam’s eyes followed her like a hawk.

  Annette hated her mother-in-law and resented the way she monopolized her son, Antonias. She had to admit that, in some respects, Miriam was a good woman who wanted the best for her family, but Annette wanted more than just to be a wife and mother, buried in the back of beyond.

  She wanted to go into Naples and Rome and enjoy the clubs and the nightlife Italy had to offer. Annette had expected life to be so different.

  She had met Marias on holiday, and it had been such a whirlwind romance she had decided to stay longer. Seeing the vineyard in all its glory, and realizing the wealth it carried with it, had make it seem too good an opportunity to miss.

  Miriam had never trusted her, she knew Annette wasn’t happy with the way things
had turned out. Marias worked the vines all day, and when they were able to go out, they did, but then Antonias came along and everything changed.

  Annette had been expected to drop in to a family routine of looking after little Antonias, and having more children to follow him. She had soon grown bored with it all.

  It didn’t matter that Marias told her that one day Antonias would be a rich man and inherit everything; Annette wanted her share now, and never mind Antonias.

  And then she had seen Carlos, who seemed to ease the boredom. He made her smile again.

  Annette had told him tales of London and Big Ben, and elaborated on the truth when she boasted about how many famous people she knew. He seemed impressed, and listened intently.

  Eventually, Carlos had taken a napkin full of bread and cheese, walked away from the lunch gathering and gone into one of the nearby fields, to eat his lunch.

  Annette had watched him leave, and had felt sad, then waited for the other workers to take their food into a nearby barn for shade.

  Making sure she wasn’t seen, she had sneaked off to where Carlos was eating his lunch.

  Carlos lay in the field, perched on his elbow, his head resting in his hand. He knew Annette would come. He knew she was smitten; it was time to make his move. She was a beautiful woman, and now she would be his.

  Annette had sat beside him while he told her how beautiful she was, and reached up to move a wisp of hair from her face. Annette had felt the excitement bubbling up inside her.

  Tentatively, Carlos had kissed her cheek and, noticing she didn’t pull away, he moved closer to kiss her on the lips.

  Carlos and Annette started an illicit and dangerous affair. The stolen moments they spent in the fields became Annette’s whole world. This was what she waited for. Carlos’s lovemaking seemed exciting and forbidden, and when Marias reached out for her in the night, she feigned sleep.

  Carlos was content; he knew Annette was now putty in his hands, and she owned half of a vineyard. She was made of money. He saw the fine jewellery she wore, and she was forever lending him money when he said he might have to leave the vineyard to find better-paid work.

  Annette was to be his ticket out of this never-ending peasant life; she could take him to London, and he would live like a rich man.

  It was actually Miriam’s vineyard, and it hadn’t always been a vineyard. It had been a farm, when her father was alive.

  During Miriam and Fredo’s married life, the farm had started doing badly. They had one bad crop after another, yet the bills still had to be paid. There was a living in it, but not much of one.

  Fredo made wine for a hobby, using the grapes on their land. The alternative was to give them away, because there was no profit in them. And so, to pass the time, he made a small number of bottles for himself, plus some he shared with friends.

  His friends had enjoyed the wine and praised it; it had a taste all of its own. When word spread about this local winemaker, the owner of a small nearby restaurant had come to taste ‘Fredo’s wine’, and liked it.

  He had taken half a dozen bottles on sale or return. It had surprised them both that the bottles had sold and the wine was popular.

  More orders were put in, and soon Fredo was taking on extra help to pick his grapes. Eventually, they decided to give up on the farm and to grow more grapes, instead.

  ‘Fredo’s wine’ proved to be popular, it was his beloved hobby and now he had found his niche. He was starting to make more money out of the wine than he ever had, living hand to mouth from the farm.

  The hot Italian sun made the grapes grow full and large, and Fredo knew just when to pick them, when they were at their best.

  Fredo and his best friend, Alfonso, whom he had known since childhood, picked the grapes together, after Alfonso’s farm fell on hard times and drained all of his funds. Fredo moved Alfonso and his family in with them, and gave him money to help pay off some of the debts he owed.

  Alfonso had spoken many times of a cousin who lived the other side of Italy. He was starting an import and export business and wanted Alfonso and his family to join him, but they couldn’t afford to go.

  Fredo and Miriam had talked things through together. Alfonso was a good and trusted friend and they felt they should help him.

  Fredo had given Alfonso the equivalent of five hundred pounds, a lot of money at that time, but the wine sales were taking off. Fredo had wine-tasting days for local restaurants, and they really helped boost orders.

  He had been sad to see his childhood friend leave, but wished him well in his new venture.

  ‘I will pay you back, Fredo, every penny of this, I promise, someday I will pay you back for your kindness.’

  ‘We are friends, Alfonso, I do not want your money, only your friendship. There is no debt,’ said Fredo.

  They had hugged each other, Fredo knowing that he would probably never see Alfonso again.

  The owner of a large restaurant in the city had come to taste the wine; they had liked it very much, and gave Fredo a regular contract. The only thing wrong with it was they had not written that they wished to purchase ‘Fredo’s wines’ on the contract, but ‘Lambrianu Vineyard wines’.

  Fredo and Miriam both agreed that, while it would always be known as ‘Fredo’s wine’ to them, their surname gave the wine more class, and would be easier to sell, and so ‘Lambrianu Vineyard wines’ was born.

  Their own son, Marias, had started working with Fredo as a young boy, and learnt how and when to pick the grapes. He had seen the operation grow into a sizeable business. Fredo had taken a huge loan out, using the farmland and the house as collateral, and had used the money to pay for sterilizing equipment, bottles and labelling.

  They’d had to go through all sorts of safety inspections and achieve a variety of hygiene certificates, but it had all been worth it. The vineyard had more orders than it could cope with. Fredo was buying up nearby farmland, to plant more grapevines. It was all a great success.

  Marias didn’t need to work the vines with his father, but they both still enjoyed it, and Fredo still wanted to manage his beloved grapevines.

  Marias had met Annette when she was visiting Italy, and had instantly fallen in love with her. Her pale skin and long blonde hair bewitched him. He had taken her home to meet his parents and visit the vineyard, and when he had asked her to stay in Italy and marry him, she had agreed.

  The vineyard was a big business, they were exporting wine to different countries and many well-known supermarket chains. Miriam and Fredo now had their own factory.

  Annette had enjoyed playing the lady of the manor and receiving beautiful jewellery from her husband, but then she’d had Antonias.

  Miriam was obsessed with him, her blonde-haired, blue-eyed grandson. Annette resented the way Miriam lavished money on him, when he didn’t need it.

  Marias was always busy. The times they did go out, it usually ended up as a business meeting with some client. Boring! Annette wasn’t interested in the vineyard, just the money. She was young, she wanted to go out dancing the night away. And so the novelty had soon worn off … until she met Carlos.

  She had started to enjoy the vineyard again, and playing lady of the manor; she had enjoyed laughing and flirting in the sunlight with the workers.

  She left Miriam and the cook to look after Antonias; they enjoyed it, so why shouldn’t she? Annette didn’t like the responsibility of a child and his needs, and felt she was far too young to become burdened with motherhood.

  After six weeks of passion and excitement, and all the wonderful plans Carlos had made for them – if only he had the money – things had come to a head. Fate had stepped in.

  There was screaming and shouting, the shrill screams of panic filled the air. Annette and Carlos looked up at the sky from where they lay. They heard the commotion, straightened their dishevelled clothing and ran towards the vineyard. The foreman was ringing the farm bell and people were running around, then suddenly Annette heard it.

  ‘
Marias has been in an accident, quick, help! Marias is injured!’

  Everyone in the house ran out to see what had happened. Miriam and Fredo had recently bought an adjoining field. It was overgrown and hadn’t been used in years. It was from an adjacent farm that had gone into bankruptcy. In the end, the farmer and his family owed so much money that they had simply packed their bags and walked out before the bailiffs came, leaving it all behind.

  Fredo and Miriam had traced the owner, and had been able to buy it cheap.

  Marias had gone out with the farmers to oversee the chopping down of the trees. One of the tractors had got stuck, and Marias and the foreman had gone around the back of it to see what the problem was.

  The handbrake of the tractor hadn’t been put on properly and it had rolled backwards, over Marias; he was trapped under the wheels.

  The foreman, not wanting to move him, had first secured the tractor then run back to the vineyard, to raise the alarm.

  An ambulance was called. The foreman tried driving the tractor forward, to release Marias from the wheels. Marias was screaming and shouting in pain. At least he was still alive.

  The workers were going to construct a makeshift stretcher to lift him, but Miriam thought it would be better not to move him until the ambulance came.

  The paramedics gave Marias a hefty injection of painkillers and he slipped into a deep unconsciousness.

  The paramedics had looked at each other; it was obvious to them that half of Marias’s body had been crushed. They moved the unconscious man as gently as they could onto a stretcher and put him in the back of the ambulance. Miriam had gone with them to the hospital.

  The worst news ever, for Miriam, was that Marias’s right leg was so crushed it would have to come off to give him the chance of survival.

  Annette had played the dutiful wife and sat by his side, crying and showing distress. Miriam had stayed by his side while he was in a delirium, and after he had undergone extensive surgery.

  She turned accusing eyes to her daughter-in-law. ‘Where were you, Annette?’ she said. ‘Playing in the fields with the hired help, again.’ Miriam felt bitter. She’d had a good idea what Annette had been up to, but had kept quiet, hoping it would run its course. Now she was disgusted; not only had she turned a blind eye, but the wife of her beloved son had been with Carlos while her son had been crushed under a tractor, and he was now fighting for his life.