Chapter 29

Besides Silvio, there was another person waiting for them at Basta's house when they returned. She gave them a big grin.

"Hi lovelies," said Fiammetta. She and Silvio were in the kitchen. The boy was sitting at the table while the woman was stirring a pot on the stove.

Basta was not pleased to see her. That or he wasn't pleased about the mess she had made in the kitchen. It was in a worse state than Dafne had left it, to her relief. She had remembered just as they had been about to walk through the door, she had braced herself for his reaction. Thankfully the blame was now shifted onto Fiammetta.

"What are you doing here?" he growled.

"Making you dinner," Fiammetta replied cheerfully, unaffected by annoyance in his voice, "Soup."

Basta made a noise of frustration, turning to Silvio,

"Why did you let her in?"

"She was already here when I got back," Silvio said meekly, glancing at Dafne, "I think we forgot to lock the door when we left."

A forbidding look crossed Basta's face.

"You forgot..."

"Oh don't be angry at him Bastie," Fiammetta cut in, "He's such a sweetie."

She came up behind the boy and draped her arms around him. The boy gulped and flushed furiously. He looked at Dafne with pleading eyes. Fiammetta smiled, Dafne was unsure if she was oblivious to Silvio's discomfort or amused by it. Dafne couldn't help but find it a little amusing herself. He was so shyly sweet. He didn't seem to have a lascivious bone in his body.

Also had Fiammetta just called Basta Bastie?

Basta obviously didn't think much of the nickname.

He scowled, his attention diverted from rebuking the boy's forgetfulness,

"So why are you really here?" he demanded, "Besides making a mess in my kitchen."

Fiammetta pouted,

"Is that the thanks I'm going to get for my effort?"

"I don't need you making my dinner," Basta said, indicating Dafne, "I have a maid to cook for me. Now out with it. What are doing here?"

"Oh fine," Fiammetta sighed. She pinched Silvio's cheek and withdrew her embrace, the boy looking relieved, "I'm avoiding Cockerell. He's driving me crazy and I need a place to hide out."

"So?" Basta wasn't at all sympathetic to her plight, "There are plenty of houses to choose from."

"Yes but he won't come looking for me at your house," Fiammetta reasoned.

"What if he does," Basta said, "I don't want deal with him tonight."

"He won't come," Fiammetta said confidently, "He's scared of you. I heard all about you rescuing your damsel in distress."

She winked at Dafne.

Basta remained unconvinced.

"Come on Bastie," Fiammetta crooned, "Help another damsel out."

"Don't call me Bastie," Basta snapped, then snorted, "You a damsel? Yeah right."

Fiammetta put her hands on her hips,

"Why not?" she said looking offended, "Why can't I be a damsel?"

"Basta," Dafne said, "Surely there's no harm in letting her stay. She did make dinner."

Fiammetta turned smug.

"See Dafne has no problem with it," she chirped.

Basta threw Dafne a dirty look. It seemed to say why aren't you on my side?

"It's not Dafne's house," he said, crossing his arms, "it's my decision."

"Of course it is," Fiammetta purred, "Basta please let me stay," she smiled to herself, adding casually, "otherwise I might be forced to tell a little story about a certain someone."

Dafne had no idea what she was talking about but Basta obviously did.

He tensed, his face going red.

"You wouldn't dare," he said, his voice quivering with anger.

But there was worry in his eyes.

Fiammetta's face hardened with promise,

"Yes I would."

There was a moment of stand-off but Basta was one who ended up caving. But he wasn't at all happy about it.

"Alright! Alright!" he said, glaring at her resentfully, "You can stay."

Fiammetta beamed,

"Yay!" she said, peering into the pot, "Good timing. This is ready."

"You better clean all this up," Basta muttered threateningly as he went over to sit down.

Fiammetta frowned,

"Why? You have a maid, why should I clean it up?"

"You made it, you clean it up," Basta said, putting his foot down, "It's either that or you can go."

"How about this," Fiammetta said, "If I clean this up, you drive me over to the next village tomorrow."

Given how angry Basta was, Dafne was amazed that Fiammetta had the audacity to ask him for another favour.

"What?" Basta said vehemently, "No. I'm not doing that."

"Why?" Fiammetta whined, "It's time for me leave and I need a ride."

"So get someone else," Basta told her, "I'm not a chauffeur. It's bad enough I'm letting you stay here. Speaking of which, you're going to have to sleep on the floor."

"The floor," Fiammetta looked unimpressed.

"Yes the floor," Basta said with certain satisfaction, "Dafne sleeps in the bed, Silvio sleeps on the couch and I sleep in the armchair."

Fiammetta shrugged,

"Why can't you and Dafne sleep in the bed?"

Three sets of eyes regarded her in shock.

Dafne met Basta's gaze and quickly looked away. Her cheeks were burning.

Stupid Fiammetta, what kind of suggestion was that? Did she assume like the rest of the village that they were a couple?

"What?" Fiammetta said amidst the awkwardness, "Isn't your bed big enough for two people?"

"Who cares if it is," Basta said emphatically, looking as embarrassed as Dafne, "We're not doing that."

Fiammetta rolled her eyes,

"Why? All you'll be doing is sleeping," she said, "How about me and Dafne?"

Basta looked at Dafne for opinion. She shrugged helplessly.

"I suppose," she said.

Fiammetta took that as a yes.

"How about that Basta?" she teased, "You get to have two women sleeping in your bed."

"Shut up," Basta said in a tight voice, "I'm rethinking letting you stay at all."

But his threat carried no weight and Fiammetta winked at him cheekily,

"Aw lighten up."

But she didn't press him further. She served up the soup, humming cheerfully.

Dafne was about to make her way over when something caught her eye.

Something moving down the staircase.

It was a ginger cat and not just any ginger cat. She recognised him.

"Um," she said, calling attention to it confusedly, "Why is Vanetta's cat in the house?"

"What?"

Basta's head whirled around to look, confirming the cat's presence for himself.

"What's a cat doing in my house?" he said, turning an accusing eye on Fiammetta.

"Don't look at me," she protested, "Kiddo here brought him in."

Silvio sunk guiltily in his seat.

"Silvio," Basta said in a quiet displeased voice, "Why is there a cat in my house?"

Silvio squirmed under his gaze.

"It's Netta's cat," he said, "I promised her I'd take care of it."

"Oh really? How nice," Basta drawled, "Why didn't you ask me first?"

"I thought you wouldn't mind," Silvio said meekly.

Basta slammed his first on the table,

"Of course I mind. I don't want cat hair all over the place," he said, wrinkling his nose.

Ignacio appeared unfussed by the trouble he was making. He brushed against Dafne's leg in a sort of greeting. She bent down and scratched him behind the ear, eliciting a purr.

"Oh Basta, that surely wouldn't be the end of the world," she said.

"Please Basta," Silvio begged, "He won't be any trouble. It will only be at night. I'll let him out during the day."

Basta starred despairingly at the ceiling.

"I've lost control of my house," he said to himself.

"Does that mean he can stay?" Silvio asked hopefully.

Basta sighed,

"For now. Just keep it away from me," he said wearily.

Silvio grinned gratefully.

"Thanks Basta," he got up and went over to Ignacio, lifting the cat into his arms, "Say thanks Ignacio."

Basta rolled his eyes.

"If it pees anywhere, I will skin the stupid thing," he said, "I don't care what your girlfriend thinks."

"I told you she's not my girlfriend," Silvio complained.

"Why else would you agree to look after it?" Basta said.

Silvio shrugged, lowering the cat to the floor where it completed a figure eight around his legs before prowling off.

"Because she's a nice girl," he said, "and Ignacio is the only family she has."

Basta sneered,

"Family? It's a cat."

Silvio frowned,

"What's wrong with that?"

Basta didn't answer. His eyes were following Ignacio as he had made his way into the kitchen, slipping under the table where he rubbed against the tip of Basta's boot.

Both Dafne and Silvio held their breath.

Basta gave it a gentle push with his foot. The cat looked up him irritably. Basta scowled back.

"Don't look at me like that you ungrateful cat."

He scraped his chair back, the movement and sound sending the cat fleeing.

"I need some fresh air," he said.

"I might join you," Fiammetta said, going to follow him.

Basta took her by the shoulders and spun her around in the direction of the sink.

"No, you clean," he said, giving her a push.

He ignored Fiammetta's subsequent complaining and when he reached Dafne, he extended his hand out,

"You have my cigarettes," he said.

Dafne starred at him confused until she remembered she was still wearing his jacket. She took off and handed it back to him.

Basta left and there was suddenly a wolf whistle from Fiammetta.

"Nice dress Dafne."

Dafne blushed. She had forgotten what she was wearing underneath too.

She noticed Silvio staring at her too.

"I know. I look stupid right," she said to him.

Silvio shook his head,

"No," he said.

Dafne smiled. She had a feeling that Silvio would never tell if she looked ridiculous. Still, she felt self conscious in this dress and planned to change back into her old one the first opportunity she got.

"So you saw Netta today?" she said, changing the subject, "How is she?"

"I can tell she's still sad," Silvio said, "But she was happy to see Nacy. He turned up while I was waiting for you outside that lady's house. I recognised him and took him to see her. She was worried the men might shoot him so I told her I would keep him indoors at night," he sighed, "Basta doesn't like him does he?"

"He'd like him a lot less if he were a black cat," Dafne said, "I think he'll get used to it."

She watched the cat jump onto Basta's armchair and curl up. It seemed to be asking for trouble. She was considering shooing it off before Basta came back when Fiammetta called out to her,

"Hey Dafne. A little help?"

Basta probably would have disapproved but she lent her assistance to the other woman. She felt partially responsible for the mess. She quickly drank some soup first, it had cooled but it tasted fine.

"So what's the deal with the dress?" Fiammetta asked as they worked. She had cajoled Dafne into washing up while she dried, "You look more like a princess than a lowly maid."

"Capricorn gave it to me," Dafne told her.

Fiammetta raised a curious eyebrow,

"Why'd he do that?"

Dafne wasn't sure how much she wanted to divulge to her. Earlier today she had confessed everything to Dustfinger but she now thought it was better to keep everything that had gone on between Basta and herself confidential. This woman was friendly with the other men and she didn't want any word getting out and spreading through the village. Rumours were bad enough.

"It was a gift," she said, leaving Capricorn's ulterior motive out of it, "for teaching him how to read."

"Interesting gift," Fiammetta commented, "I've heard that Capricorn gives the maids jewellery sometimes. If he fancies them."

"He doesn't fancy me," Dafne said, thinking this was what she was implying.

"I think I know a certain someone who does," Fiammetta said in a singsong voice.

Dafne cringed. What did she know?

"What are you talking about?" she said, feigning innocence.

Fiammetta looked over her shoulder at Silvio. Dafne followed suit. He was kneeling by the armchair where Ignacio had nested. His lips were moving but his words were too hushed to pick up. But the cat listened, blinking lazily. Neither noticed that they were being watched.

Fiammetta leaned towards Dafne,

"Bastie of course," she said in a conspiratorial whisper, "I've heard he's smitten with you."

Dafne made a scoffing noise, trying to look nonchalant.

"Who told you? Cockerell?"

Fiammetta shrugged,

"Not just him but yes. Cockie said he's fixated on you. Good job on Cockie's face by the way. Makes my job harder."

"He deserved it," Dafne said, hoping to shift the topic away from Basta and herself.

"Oh honey I don't doubt that," Fiammetta purred, but then a moment later she sighed, "He's gotten so obsessive lately. Like he thinks we're exclusive. But really I'm here to do my job. I can't do that when he scares off every other man. That's why I'm leaving. It'll give him time to cool off."

"How can you stand to be around him?" Dafne asked. She shuddered to remember him holding her against the wall.

"He has his moments," Fiammetta said, "I could ask you same thing about Basta. Last time I saw you, you hated him."

That seemed like such a long time ago. So much had happened since then.

"I got to know him better," Dafne said.

Speaking of Basta, he had been outside for awhile now. She wondered if he was prolonging coming in due to his unwanted guests. She felt a little sorry for him. He had had a big enough day as it was. They both had. Was he was standing out there thinking about her?

"Obviously not as well as I know Cockerell," Fiammetta said, interrupting her thoughts, she snorted with amusement, "You should have seen your faces when I suggested you sleep in the same bed. God, that was funny."

Her laughter turned Silvio's head.

"What's so funny?"

"Dafne and Basta," Fiammetta said.

"What about them?"

Fiammetta opened her mouth. Dafne flicked suds at her and she jumped as they hit her cheek.

"What did you do that for?" she said, wiping them off.

"Because you are making fun of me when I'm helping you," Dafne replied, raising a dripping hand threatening.

"Alright I'll stop," Fiammetta said, shielding her face with her hands, "Forget about it Silvio," she told the boy who was still looking at her enquiringly.

"Silvio, you might want to move Ignacio before Basta comes in," Dafne advised him.

"Oh right," the boy gathered the cat up and sat down on the couch with him. The cat seemed irritated by its upheaval and leapt off his lap, taking to the stairs.

He disappeared just moments before Basta came through the door.

"Where's the stupid cat?" he asked, looking around for it.

"Bedroom."

Basta looked aghast.

"It's going to put hairs all over the bed."

"Why do you care, you're not sleeping in it," Fiammetta pointed out.

"Keep giving me cheek and you won't be sleeping in it either," Basta retorted.

Fiammetta pouted.

"I cleaned like you wanted me too."

Basta ignored her, turning to Dafne,

"Why did you help her? I didn't say you had to."

Dafne shrugged,

"It got done quicker."

Fiammetta skipped over to the couch and threw herself down besides Silvio.

"So what do we do now?"

"Dafne usually tells us a story," Silvio told her.

"A story?" Fiammetta said in a slightly incredulous voice, "Like a bedtime story?"

"Do you have a problem with that?" Basta growled.

"Nope," Fiammetta said, resting her head on Silvio's shoulder, causing the boy to go rigid as a statue, "Fire away."

Dafne picked up where she had left off in Great Expectations, reading until she was interrupted by Silvio.

"Dafne, Fiammetta's asleep," he whispered in a distressed voice.

She looked up from the book to see what the great concern about that. During the story, Fiammetta had stretched out lengthways on the couch and put her head in Silvio's lap. She had fallen asleep in this position and this was Silvio's current predicament.

Not able to suppress a smile, Dafne came to his aid and shook the woman awake.

"Huh? Wha..." Fiammetta mumbled as she sat up, "Story over?"

"Yes, story over. Time for bed."

Fiammetta stretched,

"Maybe I should sleep here. Silvio makes a good pillow."

Silvio shot Dafne a panicked look.

"Come on," Dafne told Fiammetta, "Let's go."

Fiammetta sighed,

"Sorry kid," she said, ruffling Silvio's hair as she rose, "Maybe next time."

"Um yeah," Silvio said unenthusiastically, now able to stretch out into a sleeping position.

Basta had already fallen asleep in his armchair. Fiammetta went and leaned over him, grinning.

"Aw, he's even frowny when he's sleeping. Should I give him a goodnight kiss?"

Dafne's eyes widened in alarm. She wouldn't really do it, would she?

"Don't you dare," Basta said, making them jump. He opened one eye menacingly.

Fiammetta pouted, more annoyed at being startled than the rebuff.

"Hey, you were just pretending to be asleep."

"I was resting my eyes," Basta said, "How's a person supposed to sleep with someone like you around? You were about to take advantage of me."

Fiammetta snorted,

"It was a joke," her eyes narrowed mischievously, "Maybe you'd prefer someone else to kiss you goodnight?"

Basta's other eye flew up.

"Go to bed would you!" he spluttered angrily.

Fiammetta danced away laughing.

"Okay!" she looped her arm through Dafne's, "Come on."

"Goodnight," Dafne said as the other woman pulled her towards the stairs.

"Goodnight," echoed Basta and Silvio.

"You guys are like a little family," Fiammetta remarked once they were in the bedroom, "Have you noticed that?"

"I suppose Basta treats Silvio like a son," Dafne said.

Ignacio was curled up on the bed. He looked up at their intrusion but soon put his head back down and closed his eyes. Their conversation didn't interest him.

"I think you do too," Fiammetta said perceptively.

"You're not the first one to notice that," Dafne said, "But yes I do care about him like a son. Or more like a younger brother. I'm not really old enough to be his mother."

Fiammetta flopped down on the bed, the movement stirring Ignacio who opened his eyes to glare at her.

"I have a son you know," she told Dafne.

"Really?" Dafne said surprised.

Fiammetta's face lost some of its brightness.

"Yes. He should be turning one soon," she said, "I gave him away you see."

Dafne was stunned to hear this. Fiammetta had an irreverent personality that her seem unburdened by the line of work she was in, the kind of men she entertained. So it came as a shock to have her confess a secret like this, something she hid very well behind her cheeky grin.

"I'm sorry," Dafne said, sitting down beside her.

She vaguely recalled the other maids gossiping about Fiammetta on the day of her return. There had been something whispered about a pregnancy but Dafne had dismissed it as rumour. She hadn't known the other woman at all then.

Fiammetta's eyes were sad and her smile was bitter.

"It was for the best," she said, "What kind of mother would I have made? I don't even know whose it was. Cockie's probably. The kid had red hair."

"Did you tell him?" Dafne asked.

Fiammetta shook her head horrified by the thought.

"God no! What good would it have done? Even if he was the father. He and I are the last people who should be taking care of baby," she sighed, "The kid's better off where he is, with people who can raise him properly."

Dafne nodded. She had no business disagreeing. It had been Fiammetta's choice.

"I got to name him though," Fiammetta said, "I called him Rufino."

"That's a nice name," Dafne said.

"It means red-haired," Fiammetta said then waved her hand about, "But enough of the sob story..."

She got up and crossed over to the dresser.

"I see Basta's still collecting bricks," she said, stroking one with her finger and examining the soot it picked up.

"You know about that?"

Fiammetta rubbed the soot away between two fingers,

"The collection was smaller last time I saw it."

"So you've been here before," Dafne said quietly, realising what this implied.

Fiammetta looked at her guiltily. Obviously it had been a slip of the tongue.

"You and Basta..." Dafne said in amazement.

Fiammetta didn't deny it. Instead she slapped a hand to her forehead, groaning.

"I'm so stupid. It was one time. Don't tell Basta I told you. He'd throttle me."

"So that's what you were blackmailing him with," Dafne said.

Fiammetta grimaced,

"Yes I know, I'm a horrible person. But I really needed to stay here and it was the only thing I could use against him."

"Why would he want to keep it a secret?" Dafne said, "I mean a lot of the men probably..." she trailed off because she felt uncomfortable with what she was insinuating about the other woman.

"Are you kidding?" Fiammetta said, "Why do you think he wants to keep it a secret?" she pointed a finger at Dafne, "He likes you. You're the one he doesn't want knowing."

"Why would I care?" Dafne said, pulling at the bed-cover distractedly, "It's not like we're in a relationship or anything."

"But he'd like that to change, am I right?" Fiammetta said.

Dafne didn't answer. He did but why should she admit this to her. When she looked at Fiammetta now, she imagined Basta kissing her. Their bodies pressed together, falling onto the bed, where she now sat, where she had slept, not knowing the act that had taken place there. No wonder he acted so edgy around Fiammetta, given their history. She felt a surge of anger. It was just like the bricks. Why did he conceal things from her? She felt, she felt... betrayed? He had lied to her, complaining how no woman would have him, letting her feel sorry for him. Well here was a woman who hadn't refused him even though her consent had been bought.

Would Basta fall back on her since Dafne had rejected him?

Well she could have him, because right now, Dafne certainly didn't.

"It's not going to change," she said sharply to Fiammetta, "Ever."

Fiammetta sighed regretfully,

"Look," she said, "I don't mean to cause trouble between you two. It was a long time ago. Before you came to the village. Like I said, it was only once and he's really embarrassed about it."

Dafne scowled,

"That's his problem. Not mine."

"Then why does it sound like it bothers you?" Fiammetta said.

Dafne flinched at her observation.

"It doesn't," she cried, "I'm just a little shocked is all."

"He wasn't like the others you know," Fiammetta told her, "He was so shy. I don't think he'd ever... Anyway, I think he came to me because he was lonely."

Dafne sighed. This was a more sympathetic portrayal of the affair but she had heard enough. She was tired. Uncertain and tired.

"Look, let's just sleep okay?"

Fiammetta nodded,

"Okay... Are you going to wear that to bed?" she asked as Dafne was pulling back the covers.

"It's either this or my old dress," she said.

"Why don't you wear one of Basta's shirts?" Fiammetta suggested.

"I don't think..." Dafne began but Fiammetta ignored, fetching one and throwing it at her.

"Why not? You won't be able to breathe with that corset laced up," Fiammetta threw her a sly smile, "Unless you just want to sleep naked."

Dafne looked at her appalled,

"With you. Never."

Fiammetta laughed,

"Then put the shirt on."

Dafne conceded and Fiammetta helped her untie the corset strings so she could wriggle free of Capricorn's accursed dress.

"Nice rock," Fiammetta commented as Dafne was pulling on the shirt.

"Huh?"

"Your necklace."

Dafne looked down at the ruby between her breasts as she did up the buttons.

"It's not mine. I'm just keeping it safe."

Fiammetta yawned, slipping under the covers.

"For who?" she asked sleepily.

It felt strange for Dafne to be wearing Basta's shirt, the sensation of the fabric against her skin. It felt intimate. It felt like she was wearing him. Given everything that had happened, all the revelations that had surfaced, it wasn't a feeling she was comfortable with. But it was pointless taking it off now.

She went to answer the woman's question and found that she had already drifted off.

She crawled into bed, mindful of the cat and reached down to find his head to stroke it.

"It belongs to my master Ignacio," she said, closing her eyes, "Though I don't think I will ever see him again."

That was only one of her disappointments. But thankfully she was too tired to concentrate on them. There was always morning to do that.

To be continued...