Annette had watched him leave and had felt sad. She’d waited for the other workers to take their food into a nearby barn for shade and, making sure she wasn’t seen, she had sneaked off to find Carlos.
Carlos lay in the field, perched on his elbow, his head resting in his hand. He’d known Annette would come. He knew she was smitten, and 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. He reached up to move a wisp of hair from her face and she 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.
After that first kiss, Carlos and Annette started an illicit and dangerous affair. The stolen moments they spent in the fields became Annette’s whole world. Carlos’s lovemaking seemed exciting and forbidden, and when Marias reached out for her in the night, she feigned sleep.
Carlos knew Annette was now putty in his hands, and that she owned half of a vineyard. He saw the fine jewellery she wore, and she was always giving 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.
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.
One day as they were lying in the warm Italian sun, 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 the shocking news.
‘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. 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.
When they finally arrived, the paramedics gave Marias a hefty injection of painkillers and he slipped into a deep unconsciousness.
It was obvious to them that half of Marias’s body had been crushed and 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 any chance of survival.
During his hospital stay, Annette had played the dutiful wife and sat by his side, crying and showing distress while he was in a delirium, and after he had undergone extensive surgery.
But Miriam did not believe Annette. She had always been suspicious of her motives for marrying Marias, and recent gossip about her sudden interest in the farm workers and the vineyard only fuelled her suspicions. She’d voiced her opinions to her husband many times that Annette had only married Marias for what she could get out of the union.
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 with Carlos, 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 a farm hand while Marias had been crushed under a tractor, and he was now fighting for his life.
Marias didn’t wake up; he got an infection in his remaining leg, which led to gangrene, and that, too, had to be amputated. A month later, despite the doctors doing everything they could to save him, he died.
Annette was secretly pleased; she hadn’t wanted to play nursemaid to her crippled husband. She knew Miriam would have forced her to look after Marias, out of guilt, if not out of love.
Annette had loved Marias in her own way, but they had just been so different in their outlook to life. Marias had enjoyed a quiet family life, which was what he was used to, whereas Annette wanted fun and excitement.
Annette decided she was not going to be a widow for the rest of her life. She started making plans with Carlos, and shortly after Marias’s funeral she approached Miriam.
‘I’ve decided to go back to my family in England, Miriam. There is nothing for me here now. I need a fresh start; this place has too many memories,’ she had said, then put her hands to her face and started to cry. The tears were not for Marias, they were for herself.
Annette was wearing black again, and would be expected to visit that little church in the vineyard grounds, that Miriam loved so much, and pray for Marias. She had tried to play on Miriam’s sympathy, but it wasn’t working.
‘I understand, Annette,’ said Miriam, for the first time seeing her cold-hearted daughter-in-law for what she truly was. She had only ever wanted Marias’s money, and didn’t care for anyone but herself. ‘While you’re getting yourself sorted out back in England, why don’t you leave little Antonias here?’ She had just lost her son, she didn’t want to lose her grandson, as well.
Annette ignored the question about Antonias; she knew he was all Miriam cared about now. ‘I’ll need money,’ she said, ‘to find us both somewhere to live. Did Marias make a will or some sort of arrangement for us?’ She knew Miriam didn’t give a fig about her. As far as her mother-in-law was concerned, Annette could leave without a penny. That wasn’t going to happen, however, and so she persisted. ‘Can I have my share of the vineyard? Surely, I am entitled to something.’ She cleared her throat. ‘Actually, I don’t want the vineyard, just Marias’s money. I am his widow, after all, and I have our son to look after. Antonias, at least, has a share in all of this.’
Annette was pushing the subject hard, now.
Miriam nodded. Now she understood. Annette was prepared to sell Antonias to her, he was her bargaining tool.
Annette knew that if she let the boy stay, should she ever need any more money, she could blackmail Miriam – all she’d have to do would be to get in touch and let her know she was going to take Antonias away from her, and she would pay. Stupid old woman.
‘How much do you think you would need, Annette?’ said Miriam. Her voice was calm, although she was sick to her stomach. She knew Annette’s intentions were not honourable. If she had been truly grief-stricken and wanting to go home, Miriam would have understood, but she felt this was more to do with Carlos than Antonias.
Both women knew exactly what they were talking about, although neither of them would say the words: Annette would leave Antonias behind for a price.
‘Fifty thousand of your English pounds, Annette, is the best I can do for you now. Later, depending on how much your home costs and what your expenses come to, we will talk again.’ Miriam took out her cheque book and wrote out the cheque.
Annette was disgusted; that wasn’t enough. There was Marias’s share and Antonias’s, too, and this old bitch thought 50,000 would cover that? More to the point, was that all she thought Antonias was worth?
Annette smiled to herself. No way, thought Annette; she would take the money and Antonias.
During the night, when everyone was in bed, Annette had gone into the room where the safe was kept. She had watched Marias take money out of it many times and, without him realising, she had noted the key code number. There was the equivalent of 10,000 pounds in the safe; it was the wages for the workers and the petty cash. She took it all out and stuffed everything into a holdall.
That done, she had gone into the bedroom where Antonias was sleeping, taken him from his bed and disappeared into the night.
