Elena closed her eyes. ‘He knows, then?’
‘I’m afraid it was unavoidable.’
‘And what did he say? What did he do?’
‘He said he was going home, I think.’
Elena looked hard at Rosanna. ‘But he came to talk to me?’
‘I told him where you’d gone and tried to persuade him to go after you.’
‘But he didn’t want to?’
‘He followed you out here, didn’t he? You can’t say he didn’t try.’
Rosanna was right. What did she expect if she kept running away from him? Elena thought of the wounded expression on his face when she’d handed him back his ring. She thought of how she’d hoped he would follow her out of the hotel when she’d left, but he hadn’t. And yet he’d come to the apartment. It had been too late then, though; she’d already gone.
But was it too late now?
‘I’ve messed up. I can’t go back.’
‘That’s rubbish!’ Rosanna shouted. ‘You came back for me, didn’t you? How hard was that?’ she asked, picking up Elena’s left hand and massaging it in hers.
‘But you’re family - you understand.’
‘And Mark was your fiancé. He would understand too. If you give him a chance.’ Rosanna sighed. ‘But what do you want, Elena? You have to be honest with yourself. You can’t just think you want somebody - you must know. Mark deserves that. He’s a good man and they’re damned hard to find.’
Elena nodded. She didn’t need to be told that.
‘You have to be honest with him - if you want things to work out, you must be absolutely honest this time.’
‘I know,’ Elena said.
‘About everything,’ her sister pressed.
A dark cloud seemed to pass over Elena’s face. Was she really ready for that? Was that what she really wanted?
Chapter 44
Reuben cried like a woman when Rosanna greeted him an hour later.
‘Did she say that? Did she really say that?’ he asked.
‘Yes!’ Rosanna said, somewhat frustratedly. ‘Now stop crying, for goodness’ sake - people are staring!’
They were standing in the lobby of his new, cheaper hotel, and Rosanna was right: Reuben was making a spectacle of himself. He mopped his eyes with a tissue the size of a duvet and then smiled. ‘Sorry!’ he said. ‘I don’t know what happened to me there.’
‘Neither do I,’ Rosanna said, her cheeks flushing. She’d never seen a man cry before and she wasn’t quite sure how to handle it.
‘It just doesn’t sound like Elena at all.’
‘You don’t think so?’
‘I mean - she was so upset when she found out.’
‘Of course she was! You two were engaged!’ Rosanna pointed out.
‘So what’s made her act like this all of a sudden?’
Rosanna shook her head. ‘I don’t think it’s all of a sudden at all,’ she said. ‘I think this has been coming on for some time now. That’s why she came to Venice - to sort herself out.’
‘So I’m all sorted out now then, am I?’
‘Don’t pretend your pride’s hurt, for God’s sake! This is what you want, isn’t it?’
Reuben grinned and Rosanna couldn’t help but smile back.
‘What about Mark?’ Reuben asked.
‘I think she’s in love with him. She hasn’t said as much but I really think she loves him.’
‘So, I never stood a chance then?’
Rosanna thumped him in the belly.
‘Sorry!’ he said quickly.
‘I just hope she manages to sort things out. I really like Mark.’
Reuben frowned. ‘You’re sure you’d not rather poach him from Elena than me?’
‘That isn’t funny!’
He reached out towards her and pulled her into his arms. ‘Sorry,’ he whispered, kissing the top of her head. ‘I was only joking.’
Rosanna closed her eyes for a moment. It still felt so strange being with Reuben; things had happened so quickly. For a moment, she thought about Corrado, wondering if he’d found somebody else as quickly as she had. She hoped he had. He wasn’t a bad guy, not really, and she felt sure he had the makings of a really fine partner if only he could free himself from the tentacled grip of his mama.
‘Are you okay?’ Reuben asked.
‘Yes,’ Rosanna said. ‘My head’s spinning with all this but I’m okay.’
‘Good.’
‘There’s something else,’ Rosanna said suddenly. ‘I’ve got a proposition for you.’
‘Oh?’
‘You like Venice, don’t you?’
‘I love Venice!’ he said. ‘In fact, I was thinking about the possibility of-’ he paused.
‘What?’ Rosanna looked up at him. ‘What? Tell me!’ she said when he smiled a mischievous smile at her.
‘Perhaps living out here.’
Rosanna’s mouth widened into the happiest of smiles. ‘Well,’ she began, ‘I might just have just what you’re looking for.’
Reuben nodded. ‘I knew you did from the moment I first saw you.’
*
Elena could have run but she’d had quite enough of running in the past few hours. Anyway, it wasn’t that far to Mark’s hotel and she had a horrible feeling that he wouldn’t be there and that she should delay finding out for as long as possible. Why should he be there? She’d made him no promise of coming back - quite the contrary - she’d told him not to follow her. Still, as she entered the lobby and walked up to the reception desk, there was a little spark of hope inside her. She couldn’t let herself imagine, for one moment, that he’d flown back to London - back to a life that didn’t include her. It was just too grim. No. She had to remain optimistic. He was her Mark: the one who’d stood by her; the one who’d followed her out to Venice when she knew full well that he couldn’t even afford a taxi fare into London let alone a plane ticket to Italy. He had to be there for her now.
‘Good morning,’ she said to the desk clerk, dazzling him with a smile which completely masked her nerves.
‘Good morning,’ he replied, his voice as stony as his demeanour.
‘I was wondering if I could speak to Mr Mark Theodore. He’s a guest here.’
The clerk shook his head. ‘I’m afraid Mr Theodore has left.’
‘No.’
‘Excuse me?’
‘You don’t understand,’ Elena said.
‘What don’t I understand?’ the stony man asked.
Elena bit her lip. ‘When?’ she asked at last, her voice sounding helpless and hopeless. ‘When did he leave?’
‘Yesterday.’
‘I don’t suppose he left a note for-’
‘He left nothing,’ the man said, casting his eyes down to an appointment book on the desk in front of him. Their conversation was over and Elena’s spark of hope was extinguished. Mark had left. Rosanna had said he was going back to London and yet Elena had still wanted to believe that he’d be here for her - when she wanted him to be. It wasn’t meant to work out like this: this was too messy and ugly.
She walked out of the hotel, the sunlight unable to penetrate her world. She didn’t see the reflection of the bright washing in the canal of the first bridge she crossed nor did she smell the waft of coffee from a window whose emerald shutters had been flung open. Everything felt dark and dismal and she felt so unutterable alone. She shouldn’t have been in Venice; its beauty brought her no solace. Venice wasn’t meant for the unhappy: it was a city which assaulted the senses with vibrancy but, in her sadness, Elena had completely shut it out.
Everybody should have a place to go to in times of trouble: a haven when the world is horrible and, for Elena, that place was Viviana’s. She retraced the familiar path to Dorsoduro through the streets lined with mask shops. She could talk to Stefano. He would understand.
She realised that this might actually be the last time she went to Viviana’s and the thought made her extremely sad. She’d only been in Venice for a f
ew days but Viviana’s had become a sanctuary and she had no idea what she’d done before it had become a part of her life.
Following the narrow streets and walking over the bridges, she found the shop again and went inside, the familiar tinkle of the bell singing its welcome to her. Peace enveloped her in comforting arms and she immediately felt easier with the world.
She glanced up at the masks hanging from the dark beams of the shop. They had become like friends: the white and gold plague doctors with their pelican-long noses; the jolly-faced jesters with their bright bells; the elongated moons with lipstick-bright faces; the sunbeams; the harlequins; and the muted masks of the Commedia dell’Arte. She was going to miss them all.
‘You’ve come to say goodbye, haven’t you?’ a voice asked.
Elena turned to see Stefano standing right before her. He did have the most unnerving habit of doing that.
‘How do you know?’
He shook his head as if in exasperation at her question. ‘You have that goodbye look about you.’
‘I do?’
He nodded.
‘You’re right,’ Elena sighed. ‘And part of me wants to go, of course - there are so many things to sort out - but part of me doesn’t want to leave at all.’
‘That’s Venice for you!’
Elena nodded, suddenly realising something. ‘You’ve never left, have you?’
‘Once, when I was young and thought I knew everything there was to know about everything when, in fact, I knew nothing at all. I missed her like crazy! Not a night went by when I wouldn’t dream of Venice: her colours and textures, her reflections, her bells. I would walk over her bridges and across her squares - not going anyway, you understand - just walking. And then I’d wake up and feel the full weight of being somewhere else. No,’ he said, shaking his head and smiling, ‘I couldn’t live anywhere else because nowhere else comes close.’
Elena felt dazzled and dazed by his words, as if she’d just heard a beautiful poem. But his words also made her feel sad because she’d never had that connection with a place before. She loved Venice, of course, but she didn’t belong there. She certainly didn’t love London - not the part she lived in, anyway. Part of her was Italian; part of her was English. The truth of the matter was, she was a mongrel with no home to call her own.
‘But home isn’t always a place,’ Stefano said, interrupting her melancholic thoughts.
‘What do you mean?’
He looked at her closely as if assessing whether or not she was ready for what he had to say. ‘Home can be a person too.’
Elena’s eyes narrowed, unsure of what he was saying.
‘If you have a special person then, wherever they are, that is home. You have a special person, don’t you?’ His voice was like her conscience speaking to her: something she wanted to suppress but couldn’t.
‘I do,’ she replied. ‘That is, I did.’
Stefano nodded as if he already knew all about it. ‘And where is he?’
‘I was hoping he was still here - in Venice - but he’s left.’
‘But you can follow him, no?’
Elena bit her lip. Could she follow Mark back to London? He had followed her out to Venice, hadn’t he? Surely she could summon up the courage to do the same for him.
‘I can follow him, yes. I have to - we work at the same place. But I’m not sure he’ll listen to what I have to say,’ she said, her eyes welling up with sadness. ‘I think I’ve left things too late.’
‘He’s not dead, is he?’ Stefano suddenly barked, startling Elena. She’d never even heard him raise his voice before let alone bellow like that.
‘I - er - don’t think so!’
‘And you’re not dead, are you?’
Her face creased in bewilderment. ‘No!’
‘Then it isn’t too late, is it?’
Elena felt herself blushing. She didn’t know what to say to such an assertion. But he was right, wasn’t he? There was nothing stopping her except her own fear of being rejected and that was a lousy excuse for inaction.
‘What are you waiting for?’ he asked, his white eyebrows almost leaping right out of his head with excitement.
What was she waiting for? What had made her come to Viviana’s? Surely she should have gone straight to the airport after finding out Mark had left. But there was something else: the mask.
‘There’s just one more thing,’ she added. ‘Will the mask be okay leaving Venice? I mean, can I take it home?’
‘Is that what you came to ask me? You’ve postponed telling your lover how you feel about him because of a silly mask?’ Stefano tutted and shook his head. ‘Of course you can take the mask home with you! Why shouldn’t you?’
‘But will it work outside Venice?’
‘Will you want it to?’
‘I don’t know,’ Elena said.
‘Then it probably won’t.’
‘Oh.’
‘Elena,’ he began, ‘you think about things too much.’
‘Do I?’
‘Yes! Why else are you here? You keep on coming back here asking questions, questions, questions - you’re the English inquisition.’
‘I’m sorry - I don’t mean to bother you-’
‘I didn’t mean that! Of course you don’t bother me. I look forward to seeing you but it’s always a worry when I do because I know you have these questions and I’m never sure if I can answer them for you.’
Elena gave a hesitant smile. ‘I’m a bit of a wimp, aren’t I?’
‘No, no!’ he said, shaking his head. ‘I think you just lack the confidence to be honest with yourself, that’s all. You have all the answers yourself but you’re reluctant to dig deep enough to find them.’
She’d never thought of it like that before. As ever, Stefano was able to part the fog that was blocking Elena’s vision.
‘Does that make sense?’ he asked.
‘Yes!’ Elena nodded. ‘You should have your own problem page. You’d make a terrific agony uncle.’
Stefano’s faced scrunched up like a prune. ‘I can’t think of anything worse!’
‘But you’ve been so wonderful with your advice. I don’t know what I’d have done without you. And I don’t know what I’m going to do when I leave,’ she said sadly.
‘You’ll be fine. Absolutely fine,’ he reassured her.
She smiled at him. ‘Thank you,’ she said and then she reached forward and hugged him.
‘You’ll let me know how you get on, won’t you?’
She laughed. ‘Of course I will!’
A few moments later, when the hug looked as if it was about to become a contender for the Guinness Book of Records, Stefano spoke.
‘Isn’t there somebody else you’d rather be hugging?’
Elena wiped a tear from her eye and nodded as she let go of Stefano.
‘Then go home and hug!’ he said.
This made Elena smile. Maybe she did have a home after all. But there was only one way to find out for sure, and that was to leave Venice.
Chapter 45
The plane was travelling at over five hundred miles per hour but it didn’t seem fast enough. Elena had calculated the arrival time at Gatwick and how long it would take her to get home from there. She should be back at her flat by late afternoon and could get a taxi to Mark’s. She hadn’t worked out what she would do once she got there. She was half-hoping that just being there would be enough and that things would sort themselves out but, in her heart of hearts, she knew there was more to it than that. She knew, this time, that she was going to have to be absolutely honest with Mark - about her past, her misdemeanours - everything. Only then could they stand a chance of sharing a future together.
She looked out of the window into the cotton-soft world of clouds. Venice seemed a whole world away now. She thought of her parting with Rosanna. After saying goodbye to Stefano, she’d returned to the apartment and told Rosanna she had to go home straight away.
‘Well, don’t leave it so
long before you visit next time,’ Rosanna had chided.
‘I won’t. But don’t forget you can visit me too!’
There’d been a moment’s pause.
‘Is Reuben staying out here?’ Elena asked.
Rosanna nodded, her expression hesitant. ‘Is that okay with you?’
‘It’s fine. I’m pleased - really pleased for both of you.’
‘Sandro’s actually going to let his apartment to us,’ Rosanna whispered.
Elena’s eyes widened. ‘Really? You’ll both be living here?’
‘I can’t believe Sandro agreed to that but he’s off to America and didn’t want to sell up over here.’
‘That’s great! Reuben will love it here.’
‘I know.’
For a moment, the two sisters just looked at one another but there was no rivalry between them any more, just a deeper understanding of what made each other happy and the part each could play to make things work.
‘You’re doing the right thing, Elena,’ Rosanna had said and they’d hugged. ‘Let me know how things go, won’t you?’
Elena nodded. She was feeling rather emotional with all the partings that the day was throwing at her and so made her own way to the Alilaguna. She hated protracted goodbyes. Rosanna had waved her off from the top of the stairs and, when Elena had slammed the heavy door behind her, she took a deep breath in anticipation of the journey ahead.
*
After travelling by vaporetto, plane and taxi, Elena reached home. Her hands were shaking as she delved into her handbag for her front door key and let herself in. Dumping her suitcase and bag, she ran to her phone, noticing that the answer machine was flashing. Had Mark called her?
She pressed play. You have three messages.
‘Hello, Ms Montella, this is John Philips calling from Lloyds TSB. If you could give me a call -’
Elena winced, thinking that all three messages were probably from him as she was overdrawn on her account again.
‘Elena? Is this thing on?’
Elena groaned as the second message played. It was her mama.
‘I hate these machines. Am I speaking loudly enough?’ her mama bellowed. ‘Give me a call to let me know you got home safely. For all I know you might have been kidnapped by the Mafia in Naples.’
Irresistible You Page 26
