Unmasking Elena Montella (29 page)

After the most appalling night’s sleep, Elena got up and threw herself under a warm shower in an attempt to revive herself. The apartment was quiet and she did her best not to make too much noise. She couldn’t tell if Rosanna was awake or not. If she was, she was using her sense and allowing Elena to get out of the way before venturing downstairs.

She felt quite numbed by the events of the night before. They seemed almost like a nightmare: horribly frightening at the time but hard to comprehend in the light of day. Had it really happened? Had she witnessed Reuben and Rosanna together, eyes locked like honeymooners? As she walked through to the living room, she threw a glance over to the sofa where they’d been sitting as if it was to blame somehow.

She decided not to risk breakfast in the apartment; she could get something to eat en route but she poured herself an apricot juice and downed it quickly. The sooner she was out of Sandro’s, the better.

Picking up the suitcase which she’d packed the night before, she crept down the stairs and left, closing the door quietly behind her. It was only a ten-minute walk to Mark’s hotel and, as she’d only packed a few things for her trip to Positano, she didn’t mind dragging her suitcase through the streets.

The early morning air was cool and she inhaled a few deep lungfuls in an attempt at self-medication but nothing was going to ease the dull leaden feeling lodged inside her heart. She felt lost and alone in a city that didn’t care about her. It had lured her in with its pretty pink palazzos and its gentle serenity but it had chewed her up and spat her out. It was definitely time to leave.

She bit her lip. She’d make things quick with Mark and get away from Venice as soon as she could

‘
You’re running away again, Elena,’ a voice in her head told her – Rosanna’s voice. They might not have actually been on speaking terms but it didn’t stop Elena from hearing her.

‘
Shut up, Rosanna!’ she said.

It wasn’t her fault that her fiancés were behaving badly. She couldn’t be held responsible for Reuben falling in love with her sister or for Prof meeting somebody else so why should she be expected to stay and fight? They obviously weren’t worth fighting for, were they?

As she entered a small campo, she checked the piece of paper on which Mark had jotted the address of his hotel. She looked around. It had to be here somewhere. And then she saw it - hiding in the shadows of a small calle across the other side of the square. It wasn’t the Danieli, that was for sure. It was more like a poor relative – a cousin twice removed, perhaps.

Elena opened the door and asked the receptionist to ring Mark’s room. It was still early so he was probably in bed. He’d never been an early riser. Turning to face the door, Elena tried to compose herself for the scene ahead. She closed her eyes for a moment.

So, Rosanna thought she was running away, did she? That she wasn’t up to facing a situation? Well, what was she doing now, then?

‘
Elena?’

Elena span around and saw Mark. He looked bleary-eyed but his smile showed that he was pleased to see her.

‘
Hello, Mark.’

‘
I had a feeling you’d come today.’

‘
Did you?’

He nodded. ‘I don’t know why. Did you want to go somewhere and get some breakfast? I can go and get dressed properly-’

‘
No,’ she interrupted.

‘
Oh,’ he said. ‘Shall we meet later, then?’

For a moment, she didn’t know what to say. There was such expectancy in his voice and in his eyes.

‘
Mark-’

‘
What?’ It was his turn to interrupt and, from the tone of his voice, he’d guessed what she’d come to say – just as Elena had guessed what Reuben had wanted to say to her the night before.

‘
I’m going away for a while.’

He frowned. ‘But you’ve done that already by coming here.’

‘
I’m going to visit Mama.’

It was then that Mark noticed the suitcase. ‘And I don’t suppose there’s any point in me trying to persuade you to stay?’

‘
Not really.’

‘
And you’re not here to invite me to go with you, are you?’

She shook her head. ‘No.’

‘
So, why did you come to tell me?’

Elena paused and took a deep breath. ‘I’ve come to say goodbye.’

Mark stared at her silently. ‘Why does that sound so final to me?’ he asked, his eyes narrowing as he took a step closer to her. ‘Why do I get the feeling that you’re breaking up with me?’

Elena couldn’t bear to look at him and so cast her eyes down to the floor.

‘
Elena? Talk to me. Is it because of our fight the other day? Is it my fault?’

She shook her head. ‘No,’ she said.

‘
Then what’s going on? I thought we were engaged?’

She could feel her fingers bunching themselves into confused fists. She couldn’t very well explain to him that she’d become engaged to another two men, could she? She couldn’t tell him that an engagement looked slightly different to her than it did to him.

‘
I don’t think things are working out,’ she managed at last.

‘
Since when? They were fine a few days ago when we were back in London. Are you telling me something’s happened between then and now? God, Elena! I can’t understand you! I’m doing my best to make sense of all this but you keep dropping these bombs and I’m beginning to think that I don’t really know you at all.’

‘
That’s exactly why I think we should break up,’ she said, her voice tremulous. ‘I don’t think we can ever understand each other.’

‘
But you’re not giving things a chance! Each time I try to get close to you, you leg it in the opposite direction! I’ve followed you out here to Venice to try and talk to you and now you say you’re off again. Where are you going this time? How long can you keep on running?’

Elena could feel tears vibrating in her eyes. It was time to leave. Things were getting out of control.

‘
Don’t shout at me,’ she said.

‘
I’m NOT shouting!’ Mark shouted and then became aware of the receptionist’s presence and immediately felt self-conscious. ‘I’m not shouting,’ he repeated. ‘I might be raising my voice slightly but that’s only because I want to be heard,’ he said, giving her a tiny smile which was so like the first smile he’d given her that she couldn’t help but smile back.

‘
Come on, Elena. You can’t leave things like this. I won’t let you.’

A strange silence hung between them and Elena wished she could turn to the mask for help. This was one time she truly wished she could just disappear.

‘
I’ve got to go.’

‘
No you haven’t.’

‘
I’ve made up my mind,’ she said.

‘
Then
un
make it.’

She shook her head. ‘It won’t work, Mark. I know it won’t.’ She stopped, waiting for him to contradict her but he didn’t say a word. They stared at each other. He looked scruffy with his uncombed hair and his unshaven face. His blue shirt was crumpled and he’d done his buttons up all wrong. For a split second, she almost reached forward to correct them but her hand delved into her pocket instead and she took out the ring he’d bought her, handing it across to him.

‘
Won’t you say goodbye?’ she asked but he didn’t say a word nor did he make a move to receive his ring.

‘
Please take the ring,’ she said.

Mark stood perfectly still, as if paralysed, so Elena took a step forward and slipped it into the pocket of the crumpled shirt with the buttons done up the wrong way, picked up her suitcase and left the hotel.

She half-thought that he might follow her outside – perhaps run after her and ask her, once more, not to go. But he didn’t. He’d finally given up on her. So why did she feel so desolate? Wasn’t that what she’d wanted? Wasn’t that what she’d asked of him?

As she entered the campo, a single tear fell down her cheek. Quickly, she brushed it away with the back of her hand. She wasn’t allowed to do that; crying was for cowards and she wasn’t a coward – she was strong.

Rosanna had lain in bed listening to Elena moving around the apartment, wondering when she would leave and when it would be safe to venture downstairs. She had to get out to an appointment on the Lido with a retired art teacher who liked his models on time and naked within two minutes of arriving.

She’d tiptoed to the ensuite bathroom and stared at the mirror above the sink. Her face had been unnaturally pale and her eyes had looked hollow and lifeless. Not that the retired teacher would notice. He always left her face blank. The only thing he ever noticed was her torso.

Only when Rosanna had heard Elena leaving the apartment did she venture downstairs, treading with cautious feet as if Elena might come back at any moment. Thankfully, she didn’t. But she had left a note - obviously before the revelation of the night before.

Gone to visit Mama. Forgive me for not telling you earlier! Love, Elena x

Forgive
her?
Rosanna could easily forgive Elena but could Elena ever forgive her?

It was a breezy boat ride out to the Lido. The water looked greyer than usual and the view back to the Riva was dull. Even a jewel like Venice couldn’t sparkle when you were in a bad mood, Rosanna thought. The most beautiful of cities could fail to inspire you when your life was falling apart.

Rosanna caught sight of the fondant pink façade of the Danieli and wondered what Reuben was doing. Probably looking for a cheaper hotel, she thought, remembering what he’d said the night before.

She tried to fix her mind on the morning ahead but it kept diving back to the previous night and his dark eyes staring into hers and the touch of his hands on the back of her neck. And his kiss. She blushed as she remembered - ashamed at having received it and yet longing for another.

She remembered the sketches in his book. He’d imagined her naked over and over again. The thought sent a warm shiver through her body. He’d been fairly accurate too! Had he really imagined it all or had he used Elena’s body? She didn’t want to think about that - it raised too many prickly issues. Like the fact that she’d stolen her sister’s fiancé. It was unforgivable. Elena was right to leave. What other option was there? But would she be coming back? Was she just having a cooling off period? And what did the future hold? If Reuben and Rosanna were going to make a go of things, Elena would have to come round eventually, wouldn’t she? Or maybe she wouldn’t.

Rosanna closed her eyes and groaned. She didn’t want to be the cause of a big family bust-up but what was she going to do? She was falling in love with Reuben but it was looking as if she’d have to choose between going out with him or having a sister. It just didn’t seem fair. She hadn’t felt this way about somebody for years. Why did Fate have to choose her sister’s fiancé for her to fall in love with? Why couldn’t life be easy? Why couldn’t she have loved Corrado and adored his mother?

She gazed up into the pearly grey sky, half-imagining that somebody was watching her from above - somebody who was having a laugh at her expense.

Reuben was out of the Danieli first thing in the morning and had booked himself into another hotel less than a fifth of the price. Of course, it didn’t have a view of the lagoon but at least he wouldn’t feel guilty any more. Anyway, he thought, there was no telling how long he might be staying in Venice now and it would be exorbitant to pay out more than he really needed to.

Leaving his things in his new, more modest room and finding a small internet café, he emailed a few contacts at home letting them know that he wouldn’t be back for a few days. As he sent his messages, he wondered what the future held in store. He was serious about Rosanna, and the ferocity of his feelings surprised him. He found himself contemplating the possibility of selling up in London and moving out to Venice to be with her. Would that work? He certainly got the impression that she wouldn’t want to leave Italy and he had come to see the magic of Venice in the short time he’d been there. Could he base himself there? He didn’t see why not. The place was idyllic for an artist.

He thought of Sandro Constantini and how annoyed he’d be when he got back to discover that his favourite model had been poached by another, more superior artist. Reuben grinned to himself. Of course, Sandro Constantini was Italy’s main export in the art world and Reuben would certainly have a rival but he’d never feared competition – it was healthy enough - and it would be fun to try to overtake Signore Constantini in the fame-stakes.