City of Masks (9 page)

‘Nonna!’ cried Arianna and launched herself at the old woman, whose face lit up at the sight of her granddaughter.

How alike they are, thought Lucien. The old woman had a twinkle in her eye and a look that would mean mischief in a younger person, even though she seemed so respectable in her black dress.

‘Arianna! How lovely to see you! And your aunt Leonora too. And who is this young man?’

Chattering all the time, the old woman abandoned her lace and led them into her house. Lucien stopped a minute to look at the work. It must have been going to be a tablecloth or something like that. In the centre was a peacock, with its tail at full spread, which reminded him of the Glass Master’s finest work. All round the edge a pattern of leaves and lilies was being worked.

‘Glass and lace,’ said a voice, echoing his thoughts. ‘That’s what the islands are all about.’

Lucien looked up and saw Arianna’s grandmother had come back to usher him in. She was looking at him with a very intelligent expression and suddenly he felt seen through and acutely aware of his lack of a shadow.

‘It’s beautiful,’ he said, blushing. He had a terrible pang at the thought that he could never take such lovely lace home for his mother.

‘Beautiful and useful too,’ said the old woman, nodding. ‘It has its own language, you know.’

Before he could ask what she meant, Arianna came bouncing back.

‘Never mind lace,’ she said. ‘What about cakes?’

Arianna’s grandmother dispatched her to the cake shop, where her husband worked.

‘Tell him to come and join us,’ she called. ‘He’ll be shutting up for the afternoon soon, anyway.’

Arianna was soon back, with a wrinkled brown-skinned old man. He walked with a stick and Arianna bounded alongside him balancing a huge tray of cakes.

‘Luciano, this is my grandfather,’ she said. ‘He makes the best cakes on the island. Some of his recipes go back for generations and they’re great secrets, aren’t they, Nonno? You’re going to leave them to me when you die, aren’t you?’

‘So, you’re going to be a cake-maker, are you?’ asked her grandmother. ‘I heard it was a mandolier.’

Now it was Arianna’s turn to blush and she was quite subdued for a while. It made her uneasy to think that Leonora had told her family about her adventure on the forbidden day. How much did they know about Luciano, in that case?

But she was the only one not at ease. They were all sitting at a great stone table in the grandparents’ back garden, which was full of terracotta pots of red flowers and overflowing greenery. They made a pretty sight against the white walls. Lucien had a hunch that if Arianna’s grandfather had lived on Merlino, where all the houses were white, he would have painted his bright pink. He was that sort of a person. He wasn’t tall and his crooked leg made him seem even shorter, but he was an impressive figure, with his bushy white eyebrows. And he did make the most delicious cakes.

‘Try this kind,’ he said to Lucien, pointing to some crumbly, sugary ones in the shape of crescent moons. ‘I make them with lemons.’

The cakes, some of which were more like biscuits, were served with glasses of prosecco. Lucien stretched out his legs and drank the sharp wine with the sweet cakes, enjoying the scent of the garden and the warmth of the afternoon sun. He couldn’t remember ever feeling happier.

*

Giuliana was terrified. ‘You will get me into such trouble, Enrico! Not just me but my family too. I made a promise. And that Duchessa meant what she said. If she finds out I told anyone, then we’ll be banished from the city.’

‘You worry too much, cara,’ said her fiancé, smoothing her dark hair back from her forehead. ‘This Duchessa is an old woman. She won’t live for ever. And how can she hurt you when she is gone?’

Giuliana was not completely reassured. Behind her mask, she still looked worried. The Duchessa was not that old and she was suspicious that Enrico had so casually brought up the subject of her possible death. Giuliana had never been quite sure what her fiancé did for a living. He had trained as an ostler, but then come to Bellezza, where horses had been banned two hundred years earlier. She knew he now did some work for the di Chimici family, which often involved absences from her, but she didn’t know what sort of work and now she was frightened.

At the embassy, officials waved them through much more quickly than on Enrico’s last visit. His name was now worth something to the Ambassador and it didn’t hurt that he was with a young woman with a fine figure.

‘Ah, my dear,’ said the Ambassador when Enrico introduced his fiancée to him. ‘How good of you to come. Would you like some wine?’ He poured wine into the most expensive silver goblets for them. ‘Now, I’d like you to tell me all you can remember about this year’s Marriage with the Sea.’

*

Torrone was a great contrast to the other two islands. While they had been bustling with life and activity, the smallest island was quiet and tranquil. There were visitors there, as everywhere in the lagoon, and there were a few stalls to sell them food and drink and lace and glass and even a few merlino-daggers. But the greatest number of people were streaming down the path by the main canal towards the church. ‘It’s a cathedral really,’ Arianna told Lucien, ‘but it’s no bigger than a church.’

All the bounce had gone out of her and, instead of skipping ahead of him down the path, she dragged back, unwilling to come face to face with her family. Her brothers led the way, chatting to Leonora and leaving a waft of fishiness in their wake. They stopped at a little whitewashed house and a comfortable middle-aged woman in a green dress came to the door.

In moments, she had made her way to Arianna and gathered her in her arms. It made Lucien quite homesick and he turned away. What was he doing here, hundreds of miles away in space and hundreds of years in time, and who knew how distant from his own family?

But Valeria, Arianna’s mother, made him welcome too. She seemed a bit in awe of him when she was told he was under Senator Rodolfo’s protection, but she was a hospitable woman.

‘Run and get your father, Tommaso,’ she said. ‘He’ll be closing the museum soon.’

‘But, Mamma, I’d like Luciano to see our cathedral,’ said Arianna, now her old self since her mother was obviously so pleased to see her.

‘All right. You two go with him and I’ll start my cooking. You’ll all stay and eat with us, won’t you?’

As Lucien and Arianna carried on down the path with Tommaso, people kept stopping to greet the ‘daughter of the island’. Her escapade had obviously been forgiven if not forgotten and every islander wanted to give her a kiss or a pat on the back. Arianna was in her element. Lucien could see how she had become so confident. Every person on the island treated her as special and took an interest in her. But they were all much older than her. The only other young people Lucien saw were among the visitors milling round outside the tiny cathedral.

But they went first to the museum, where a calm, grey-eyed man welcomed them, embracing Arianna with even more affection than the rest of the islanders had. Gianfranco was pleased to see them all and wanted to show Lucien the cathedral himself. Since it was almost time for it to close, they waited till the last tourists had been ushered out and then went in alone, Gianfranco jangling the keys on a large heavy ring.

The cathedral was cool and still, in spite of the tide of life that swept through it every day. Before the altar was a marble screen, carved with birds and flowers, as fine as Paola’s lace. And through it, behind the altar, was a huge mosaic of a woman. It was made of silver and blue and towered up into the dome of the building.

‘Our Lady,’ whispered Arianna, making the hand of fortune.

‘Mary?’ asked Lucien.

‘If you like,’ she shrugged. ‘Or the goddess. It doesn’t matter. She is the Mother of the Lagoon and everyone comes to see her. Not just the tourists. All lagooners come to ask the Lady’s help in times of trouble.’

Lucien could see a whole constellation of candles burning at the feet of the mosaic figure. And there were flowers and beads and all sorts of trinkets laid at its base too.

‘Do you see that stone slab behind the altar?’ Gianfranco asked him. ‘Under there lie the bones of a dragon. The Maddalena, patron saint of the lagoon, is said to have killed it by the touch of one of her tears. The sheer holy power of it shrivelled him up.’

As they completed the guided tour of the cathedral, Lucien felt more and more confused. On the one hand it was a church and he felt he ought to recognize what went on in it. On the other hand the lagooners seemed equally happy with stories of goddesses or dragons, which seemed to belong to an earlier, pagan time.

They went back to Arianna’s house, where Valeria had cooked the fish that her sons had brought with them and a big dish of pasta, with herbs and olives and garlic. It was completely unlike anything Lucien had ever tasted in Italian restaurants in North London.

After the meal, which was eaten on a little vine-covered terrace, Valeria made coffee. Leonora had paid the boatman off in Burlesca, as the two brothers had offered to bring them back in their fishing-boat.

‘We should go when we’ve drunk this, Mamma,’ said Angelo. ‘Fishermen have to start early in the morning,’ he explained to Lucien.

It was then that Lucien noticed for the first time that it was getting dark and the first stars were coming out. With a horrible jolt, he realized that, back in his world, it must be morning.

Chapter 8

A Jar of Rainbows

This time when Lucien came round, it was much worse. It wasn’t just his mother peering anxiously into his face; their local GP, Doctor Kennedy, was there too, with her stethoscope on his chest. When Lucien’s eyes fluttered open, his mother collapsed in tears. He felt dreadful seeing her so upset.

‘It’s all right, Mrs Mulholland,’ said Dr Kennedy, when she had taken his pulse and shone a torch into his eyes. ‘Lucien seems to be perfectly well – as well as he can be at this stage of his treatment.’

‘Mum, I’m sorry,’ said Lucien. ‘I didn’t mean to frighten you. I was having a dream about some beautiful lace I was going to buy for you. And I just couldn’t seem to come out of the dream.’

He was lying but he couldn’t bear to see her so upset and she would never have believed the truth. He decided to get the doctor on his side.

‘It’s happened before. I seem to have these very heavy sleeps now, much heavier than I used to. Is it the illness or leftover tiredness from the chemo? I was tired all the time when I was on that.’

‘Hard to say,’ said the doctor, with a little frown. ‘It sounds like a bit of a leftover from the treatment, but I’ve never come across it before. Anyway, you seem fighting fit now. You’ve just slept in a bit late. And he isn’t the first teenager ever to do that, you know,’ she added to Lucien’s mother, who managed a watery smile.

‘I’m sorry I called you out for nothing,’ she apologized. ‘But I was so frightened when I couldn’t wake him up. Last time it was only a matter of minutes, but as I said, this time I’d been trying for about half an hour.’

After the doctor had gone, Lucien got up and dressed and behaved as animatedly as he could, though in fact he was now dog-tired. It was almost as bad as when he had been having the chemo, and he had forgotten what it was like to feel so drained. For the last few weeks he had begun to feel almost normal again. When his mother decided he was well enough to leave him on his own and went to the supermarket, Lucien immediately lay down on his bed.

But not to sleep. He fell into unconsciousness clutching the book, wishing himself in Talia, desperate to get back to the boat, from which he had made such a sudden disappearance the night before.

Lucien had drawn Arianna aside, as soon as he realized how late it was.

‘I’m going to have to get back. It’s daytime in my world and if I don’t wake up there, there’ll be the most almighty scare. It’s happened before. I must stravagate soon.’

Arianna looked at him in disbelief. ‘You can’t just disappear! What can I tell everyone?’

‘If it’s like other times, I’ll be gone for only a few moments – the blink of an eye,’ he told her.

‘Are you sure?’ asked Arianna doubtfully.

Lucien hesitated. ‘No, I’m not entirely sure. I’ve only done it in Bellezza before, in Rodolfo’s laboratory. But I’ll wait till we’re on the boat. It’s getting darker and you can cover for me – take everyone’s attention from me.’

It had been decided that Arianna would return to Bellezza to continue her stay with Aunt Leonora but no one referred to it now in terms of punishment. Arianna felt forgiven and as if she could now enjoy her holiday in the city. But she was worried about Lucien.

As soon as the goodbyes had been said, which seemed to Lucien to take forever, and the brothers had rowed their boat out into the waters of the lagoon, he signalled to Arianna that he was ready. It seemed as good a chance as he would get, although theirs was not the only boat in the water. The nearest one was far enough off for nothing to be noticed in the dark.

‘What’s that over there?’ asked Arianna excitedly, pointing towards the city. Everyone craned their necks to see what she was talking about – and Lucien disappeared.

She had been going to make something up about a shooting star or a flying fish, but the sudden sense of Lucien’s absence froze the invention in Arianna’s throat. One minute she could feel the warmth of him next to her, his side lightly touching hers, and the next he was gone. It left her trembling.

‘What?’

‘Where?’

Fortunately, there
was
something. A rocket or flare launched into the night sky above the cathedral, sending out a shower of red sparks to illuminate the curves and lines of its unmistakable rooftops. At the same moment, Arianna felt the warmth of Lucien return. She gasped.

‘You have very good eyesight, niece,’ said Leonora. ‘What is there to see
before
a firework goes up?’

‘Wasn’t it pretty?’ said Tommaso.

‘Signor Rodolfo must be preparing his next display,’ said Angelo. ‘For the Maddalena’s day.’

‘It’s not like the Senator to be so careless, is it, Luciano?’ asked Leonora.

‘No indeed,’ said Lucien, who was also trembling. ‘He must have meant to set it off.’

Arianna said nothing. She was so stunned by having witnessed a stravagation that she didn’t say anything else for the course of the journey.

As soon as they were back on Bellezza and he had escorted Leonora and Arianna home, Lucien raced to Rodolfo’s palazzo. It was very dark now and he didn’t see that not one, but two figures watched him from the shadows.

Alfredo let him in and Lucien ran up the stairs two at a time. The laboratory door opened before he could knock and he fell into the room panting.

‘Can’t stay ... got to get back before Mum ... supermarket ... stayed too late on islands ... big hoo-ha.’

He sank into a chair and Rodolfo looked at him seriously.

‘So my mirrors told me. I told you to miss your morning lessons, not disappear for the whole day and forget to return to your home world. I sensed you were still here. That’s why I sent up the flare.’

‘I didn’t see the flare, but I heard about it,’ said Lucien. ‘Look, never mind. I’m dying to ask you all sorts of things – about Doctor Dethridge and Arianna’s grandmother and the merlino-fish and the glass mask, but I must go. I’ll be back tonight – I mean tomorrow morning.’

He clutched the book and hurled himself into meditation. His whirling thoughts steadied and settled like sediment in a glass and he found himself sinking with them, away from the laboratory, from Bellezza, from Talia.

Rodolfo stood for a long time looking at the empty chair and sighed. ‘Remarkable, most remarkable.’

*

The two shadows in the street outside Rodolfo’s palazzo moved away and headed for the nearest tavern. One had a blue cloak and walked with a swagger. The other was dressed in rough workmen’s clothes. They had both got off little boats at the Piazzetta mooring and found themselves trailing the same party. Now it was time to share a few glasses of Strega and some information.

Lucien awoke as he heard his mother’s key in the door. He ran down the stairs, almost as fast as he had run up the others in Bellezza, and greeted her in the hall.

‘Let me help you unpack,’ he said.

‘Well, you certainly seem well enough now,’ said his mother, and he was relieved by her sunny look.

But lugging the bags in from the car and distributing the contents into cupboards, fridge and freezer left him exhausted. As soon as he felt he could risk it, Lucien yawned elaborately and said, ‘I do feel just a little sleepy. Mind if I lie down for a bit?’

‘No,’ said his mother, without suspicion. ‘You go on up and have a nice nap. I’ll bring you some tea in about an hour. You don’t want to spoil your night’s rest.’

Rest was something that Lucien never had now. Every night was passed awake in another world. All the exercise he was getting there, and the fresh food, was in one way doing him good. He was putting on weight and getting his muscle tone back in his own world. He was even beginning to grow a dark fuzz of hair. But one way and another, he was still exhausted. Now he took the precious notebook out of his pocket and put it carefully on his bedside table. This time he wanted to be sure of a proper sleep.

Guido Parola was at his wits’ end. He should have been going to university in Padavia but there was no money for that now. His older brother had drunk and gambled all the family fortune away and had now disappeared. Their father was very sick and there was no money to pay for a doctor to cure him or even a woman to help with his nursing. Guido’s mother had died when he was still little.

It was touching to see the tall gangling red-haired boy tending his father so gently. But they were down to their last few scudi and he had to buy good-quality nourishing food to keep his father alive. He was in the market when a schoolfellow of his called out to him. Within a few minutes, they were in a local tavern and Guido was drinking heady Bellezzan red wine, paid for by his friend, and pouring out his troubles.

*

‘Today we are going to make fireworks!’ announced Rodolfo as soon as Lucien returned to Bellezza the night after the near-disastrous trip to the islands. The sunlight streaming into the laboratory gave Lucien the strangest feeling that Rodolfo could turn night into day. Perhaps he could. Lucien still had no idea how powerful Rodolfo might be. But today they were going to make fireworks.

‘For the Maddalena,’ explained Rodolfo. ‘Her feast day is on the twenty-second of July and, since she is the patroness of the lagoon, I always have to do something special. But this year’s must be even more special than usual because the Feast will coincide with the opening of the church in thanks for recovery from the plague.’

‘Arianna says your display was something special at the Marriage with the Sea,’ said Lucien. ‘I wish I’d seen it.’

‘You won’t be able to see any of my displays, Luciano,’ said Rodolfo gently. ‘You can’t have fireworks by day. There are some things that need the dark.’