‘Some day—’
‘Some day—when one of us has turned the other’s life upside down.’
‘Yes, we can’t get past that, can we?’ She sighed. ‘The rest is a happy dream, and dreams can only last so long.’
‘But you know better than anyone how long dreams can last,’ he said. ‘As long as you have the courage to make them. Let’s keep ours while we can, forget reality and think about us. I know, I know—’ He silenced her with his fingertips across her lips. ‘Who can tell if there’ll ever be an ‘‘us’’? But can’t we pretend, just for a little while?’
She tried to murmur, ‘Yes,’ but he silenced her again, this time with his lips. The touch of them answered all questions. For a few precious moments there was no other reality but the one to be found in his arms.
When he rose and held out his hand to her she went with him, smiling. As they passed through the dark hallways he held her close, burying his face against her neck, her hair, telling of his desire in whispered tones that made the hot eagerness spread through her like fire.
‘Mummy!’
The sound ripped through the air, piercing them, driving them apart.
‘Mummy, Mummy, no!’
It came from behind Rosa’s door and it was followed by a long, despairing wail. Julia was through the door in a moment, putting on the light.
Rosa was sitting up, her eyes closed, her arms outstretched as if in a desperate plea, tears pouring down her face, lost in some terrifying nightmare. Julia sat on the bed and pulled her into her arms, hugging her tightly until the little girl awoke.
‘There, darling, there, darling.’ She was talking English although she didn’t know it. She was aware of nothing except the need to soothe and comfort the child.
Rosa was awake now, sobbing violently, clinging onto her. Vincenzo went to Carlo, who’d been roused by the noise, and picked him up. His face was haggard.
At last Rosa’s weeping subsided, and she lay with her head on Julia’s shoulder, hiccupping slightly. Julia drew back and looked down into the tear-stained face, trying to believe what she had heard. The child’s words had been so like that other time. Surely it wasn’t possible—?
‘What happened?’ she asked, remembering to speak in Italian this time. ‘Did you have a bad dream?’
‘Yes—I think so—it was cold and dark and I was frightened.’
‘Can you remember anything else?’ she asked, trying not to let her voice shake.
Rosa frowned for a long time, but at last she shook her head.
‘It’s just dark, and I’m feeling scared and—so lonely and unhappy. It’s like—the worst thing in the world is happening, but I don’t know what it is.’
‘Do you—remember what you called out?’
‘I don’t think I said anything. I just screamed and screamed.’
She searched Julia’s face in sudden anxiety. ‘Did I say anything?’
‘No,’ Vincenzo said in a tense voice. ‘You didn’t. You just made a lot of noise and scared us both to death, you little rascal.’
His voice had become teasing, telling her everything was all right, warning Julia to probe no further.
The warning was needless. Not for the world would she have pushed her child faster than she was ready to go. Tonight she’d been shown a ray of hope, and she would live on that.
‘Do you want some hot milk?’ he asked.
Rosa nodded contentedly, resting her head against Julia again.
‘Can you get it, please, Uncle Vincenzo? I want Julia to stay.’
He laid Carlo back in his cot and went out to the kitchen.
‘Do you get nightmares often?’ Julia asked gently.
‘Sometimes. Since my parents died. But they’re all confused and muddled up and afterwards I can never tell what they were about…’
Her voice trailed off and after a moment Julia realised that she had gone to sleep again, contented now. She sat stroking the tousled hair, brooding over her child with fierce, protective joy.
After a while she laid her down, and Rosa half opened her eyes, whispering, ‘Is Carlo holding Danny?’
‘No, he’s on the floor.’
‘Can I have him?’
Julia picked up the shabby old rabbit and tucked Rosa’s arms around him. The child gave a small grunt of pleasure, and was asleep instantly.
Julia slipped to her knees beside the bed and knelt there, holding one of Rosa’s hands, watching her with loving eyes that missed nothing.
Vincenzo, coming in a moment later, found them like that, and went silently away without being observed.
Chapter Eleven
GEMMA returned next morning, and Vincenzo walked home with Julia. Rosa would have come with them, but Vincenzo gently discouraged her. This was their first chance for a private conversation since the events of the night before.
She had remained with Rosa a long time, emerging to find that Vincenzo had gone to his room. That had been a kind of relief. What would they have said to each other?
Now they walked in silence until Julia said, ‘I feel as if I’d got to know Bianca, with Rosa’s help. I’m glad. She’s real now. And I have to deal with her.’
‘Deal with her? How?’
‘By accepting her. I suppose I had some idea of driving her out because she was usurping my place, but I can’t do that. There has to be room for all of us. Rosa will only turn to me if she can bring Bianca with her.’
‘Does that make you hate my sister?’ Vincenzo asked in a low voice.
‘No, I’m grateful to her. She did me no wrong. She looked after my child, and made her happy. Rosa says that Bianca actually defended me when her father tried to wipe me out. She wouldn’t let him do it.’
‘She was the most generous woman alive,’ Vincenzo said sadly.
‘Yes, I know that now. She tried to do me justice, and I’ll do her justice.’
‘And in the end Rosa will turn to you,’ Vincenzo said. ‘And you’ll take her away.’
‘Are you saying you’d just stand back and let me?’
‘I won’t stop her being with her mother, if that’s what you mean. It has to be her choice, but you’re going to win. We both know that. The affinity is there. She feels it. Deep down inside that child knows who you are. She doesn’t understand what she knows, but it’s there, and sooner or later it will come to the surface.’
‘It nearly happened last night,’ Julia said. ‘She was crying out in English.’
‘How can you tell? No is the same in both languages.’
‘But she cried ‘‘Mummy’’ not ‘‘Mamma’’.’
‘Yes,’ he said heavily. ‘She was reliving that moment, but when she woke up she didn’t remember. Next time—’
‘It’s a lot for her to take in,’ she said placatingly. ‘It might be a while yet.’
She wondered at herself for denying the very thing she most longed for, but, intentionally or not, he’d reminded her that they were on opposite sides, and she wanted to comfort him for the loss he was facing.
As the restaurant came in sight, still closed up, they saw a young man standing outside, trying to peer through the windows.
‘Hallo,’ Vincenzo called.
The young man jumped. He was thin, fair-haired and awkward-looking.
‘Hallo?’ he said. ‘I’m Terry Dale. I work for Simon and Son. I’m looking for Mrs Haydon.’
‘That’s me,’ Julia said at once. To Vincenzo she added, ‘They’re my lawyers in England. I called them when I moved in here.’
‘Let’s go inside,’ Vincenzo said, opening the door to the restaurant and ushering them both in.
‘I came because I’ve got good news about your compensation,’ Terry Dale said when he was inside.
‘I thought it was far too soon for the compensation to be settled,’ Julia said.
‘Normally, yes, but now that the conviction’s been quashed, they want this one off their plate fast. They’ve made a generous offer.’ Conscious of Vincenz
o’s unmoving presence, he scribbled something on a scrap of paper and thrust it at her. ‘How about that?’
Julia’s eyes opened wide at the sum.
‘Are you sure you didn’t add on an extra nought by mistake?’ she asked.
‘Good, isn’t it? But that’s not all. Everyone knows you’ve been looking for your husband, and if you’ve got any leads—well—’
‘It’s been years,’ Julia said carefully. ‘He may not even be alive any more.’
‘That doesn’t matter. Even if he were dead the police could track back and find out who he’s been associated with, interview anyone he’s known, that kind of thing. It could be worth quite a bit more to you.’
‘I didn’t know it worked like that.’
‘Officially it doesn’t, but this kind of information can help—’
Terry Dale was scribbling more figures, showing them to her like a puppy appealing for a pat.
‘I don’t like this,’ she said. ‘It looks like some people still think I’m in cahoots with him.’
‘Oh, no, but they know you’re looking for your daughter, and when you find her it’ll help us get onto his trail. Like I say, it could be worth a lot of money to you.’
‘That’s too bad, because there’s no help I can give,’ she said firmly. ‘I can’t point you in the direction of my husband, and you can take that as final. The lesser compensation will have to do.’
‘Well, it’s a pity because—’
Julia picked up the paper with the figures and tore it again and again.
‘Goodbye, Mr Dale. Please thank your boss for his efforts and ask him to finalise matters.’
She saw him out and turned to find Vincenzo regarding her with a look that was half appreciation, half suspicion.
‘I didn’t see the figures,’ he said now, ‘but it must have been tempting.’
‘Oh, yes? And have police swarming all over the place, upsetting Rosa? No way.’
Inwardly she was cursing Bruce. Was his malign influence going to spread over the whole of the rest of her life, blighting everything?
‘I’ve made my decision,’ she said, ‘and now I know where I’m going from here.’
A light had come on inside her. Vincenzo was reminded of the night she’d returned from Murano, ablaze with confidence and decision.
‘What are you going to do?’
‘First, give up my job as soon as you can do without me.’
‘Right now if you like. Celia’s due back from honeymoon.’
‘Can I stay in the apartment for a while?’
‘Sure. She won’t be moving back in. But what are you going to do?’
‘Get in practice at my job. Hone my skills again before I start on your place.’
She thought for a moment before adding, ‘There’s one thing I’m grateful for, and that’s that the Montressis were away. If they’d been there I might have stirred things up in a way I’d be regretting now.’
‘He’s lucky they never bumped into him,’ Vincenzo observed. ‘They might have recognised him.’
‘Not really. I don’t think he’d seen them for years. They were only very distant relatives, but I pinned everything on them because they were all I had. Well, I won’t need to bother them now. I’m just going to get to work.’
In prison she’d done some drawing, and even taken an art class for other prisoners, but now she needed sustained work to bring herself back up to standard.
Taking sketch books and charcoal, she began to walk around Venice the next day, making rapid strokes, creating life on the paper.
At first she took in the showplaces, St Mark’s, the Rialto Bridge, but then she turned away into the little canals, the calles with washing strung overhead, the empty boats bobbing in the water. The outlines were easy, but when she’d mastered them there was the more tantalising task of evoking the atmosphere of those mysterious little places.
Absorbed in this challenge, she took a while to realise that she wasn’t alone. A small but determined ghost was flitting just behind her, always vanishing if she turned her head, but then emerging again in determined pursuit.
‘All right,’ she called at last. ‘Come out where I can see you.’
A figure, swathed up to the eyebrows in scarves, and down to the ears in a thick woolly hat, emerged from around a corner and presented herself. Julia folded her arms, regarding her wryly. The figure immediately folded her own arms.
‘Are you following me?’ Julia asked.
A nod.
‘Is anyone with you?’
A shake of the head.
‘You’ve run away on your own?’
The eyes were as mischievous as the voice. ‘I’m not on my own. I’m with you.’
Rosa pulled down the scarf, revealing a cheeky grin.
‘Uncle Vincenzo let me come to the restaurant with him today. He said you were upstairs so I was going to go up, but then I saw you leaving by the side door. So I followed.’
‘Does anyone know where you are?’
‘Yes. You do.’
‘I don’t think that’s quite enough,’ Julia said, trying not to laugh, and pulling out her cell phone. In a moment she was through to the restaurant.
‘Vincenzo? I’ve someone here who needs to talk to you.’ She held out the phone to Rosa. ‘Talk.’
Rosa giggled and began her persuasion.
‘I ran after Julia, and she says I can spend the day with her—’
‘I said no such thing.’
‘But you were just going to, weren’t you? I can, can’t I, Uncle?’
‘Give that to me before you land me in trouble,’ Julia said, hastily seizing the phone. ‘Vincenzo?’
‘I’d only just discovered that you’re both gone,’ came his harassed voice.
‘Vincenzo, if you’re thinking what I think you are, I’ll never forgive you.’
There was a silence.
‘I wasn’t thinking that.’
‘Really?’
‘I wasn’t thinking that you’d run off with her,’ he said tensely.
‘You’d better be sure about that.’
‘Is she all right?’
‘Of course she is. She’s having the time of her life laughing at both of us. You’d better let her stay with me officially, otherwise she’ll just creep after me at a distance. Don’t worry, she’s safe with me.’
She couldn’t resist adding, ‘Whether I’m safe with her is another matter.’
At this Rosa gave a giggle that clearly reached Vincenzo down the line.
‘I’ll say yes—having no choice. But you’d better put yourself in her hands. She knows Venice better than you do.’
Julia hung up and turned to her daughter. ‘We’re going to have a great time.’
Rosa gave a brilliant smile, took her hand, and they wandered on together.
‘What did you think Uncle Vincenzo was thinking?’ Rosa asked.
‘It’s a long, complicated story,’ Julia said hastily. ‘I’ll tell you another time.’
After that the child said little, simply seeming to be content to be in Julia’s company. And it was she who chose the next object to draw, pointing at an ornate bridge.
Julia promptly took out her sketch book, sat on a small flight of steps, and began to work rapidly. When she’d finished she showed the result to Rosa, who gave her an impish look, took the book, flipped over a page, and began to make a sketch of her own.
With disbelieving pleasure Julia looked at the result.
‘You can draw,’ she breathed.
Another page, another rapid sketch, drawn with an inexperienced but confident hand. Beneath a quiet surface Rosa was already a boldly confident artist. This was truly her daughter.
‘Papà didn’t like me drawing,’ she confided. ‘He said it was a waste of time. But Mamma said I should do it if I wanted to. It was our secret.’
‘She was—’ Julia checked herself and started again. ‘Your mother was right.’
The words were
hard to say, but she felt she owed Bianca that much.
After that, wherever they stopped, they shared the drawing. Julia showed the little girl some new strokes, and had the delight of discovering a responsive pupil. It was a perfect day.
But then something happened that was like the sun going in.
As they moved closer to the glamorous heart of the city she noticed that almost every street had a shop that sold wild, colourful masks for the coming Carnival. Several times she would have stopped to look closely, but Rosa always pulled her on.
‘Hey, stop a minute,’ Julia begged at last.
Rosa stopped obediently and stood beside her, looking into the window. But she said nothing.
‘They’re for the Carnival, aren’t they?’ Julia said.
‘That’s right.’ Just the two short words, almost snapped out.
‘It’s quite soon, isn’t it?’
‘Next month.’
‘I’ve seen pictures, of course—people in those incredible costumes—it must be so exciting.’
‘Yes, it is.’
Julia turned her head uneasily to look at the child, conscious of something strange in her replies. Her delight of only a few minutes ago had been abruptly quenched. Now she spoke like a robot, and her face was stiff.
Then Julia remembered Vincenzo saying, ‘Last year she had a wonderful time at Carnival with James and Bianca, but this year she refuses to think of it.’
Silently calling herself a fool, she said, ‘Why don’t we go and have something to eat?’
Rosa nodded and followed her to a little café.
When they were seated with milk shakes she said, ‘I’m sorry. I didn’t think. It’s your parents, isn’t it?’
Rosa nodded. After a moment she said, ‘I had a costume with lots and lots of colours last year, but this year I wanted a pink satin one. So Mamma bought it for me last July. She said we’d keep it for the next Carnival. Only then—’
She stopped. She was controlling herself almost fiercely, but her lips trembled.
‘And you don’t want to go without her?’ Julia asked gently.
‘I won’t ever go again,’ Rosa said, calming herself at last. Now her voice was too controlled, too unyielding.
A Venetian Affair Page 47
