Venetian Masquerade (7 page)

Unexpectedly, her chance came when his mobile phone rang, and with a curse, he got out of bed, picked it up, and looked at the number flashing on the screen. “Please excuse me a moment. I have to take this, and then we must talk. Don’t move.”

He took the phone into the dressing room, searching for a pen, and she slithered out of bed and pulled on her clothes in record time. Then, before he returned, she slipped quietly out of the apartment and frantically pressed the lift button outside. To her everlasting relief, the door opened immediately, but the journey to the ground floor seemed to take forever, and she shivered with shock at what had just happened and with anxiety in case Alessandro was already descending in the other lift, trying to catch her.

She fled from the hotel, gasping with relief when a taxi pulled up in front of her immediately, but in the traffic, it took an age to get back to the office to collect her car, by which time she was a nervous wreck. Amy paid the taxi driver with shaking hands and crossed the road to her car, looking around all the time in case Alessandro had caught up with her. By chance, Sandra was going to the post. Amy called to her urgently as she left the office and signaled her to get into the car.

“Amy! What happened? You have to tell me!” she demanded breathlessly.

“Something that never should have, and now I have to fly back to Venice as soon as I can get a flight. I only cleared half the things out of my office, but I can’t go back, so will you finish it for me? Can you put any personal stuff in the post?”

“Of course I will. Keep in touch, Amy. I’ll call your mother if there is anything to report.”

“Thanks. You’re a star.”

They hugged, and Sandra checked there was no sign of Alessandro before getting out of the car. Amy raced off to collect her things from her house, say a hasty goodbye to her mother, and make a dash to Heathrow Airport. By the evening, she was flying over the English Channel and away from Alessandro di Benedetto. But as she stared down from the aircraft window, her heart ached for what she had lost.

Chapter Five

H
ving left London in such a hurry, Amy had not had a chance to alert Gabriel, so there was no one to meet her in Venice, and she took a
vaporetto
back to the Lido. She dragged her case the few hundred yards from the landing stage to the villa and went inside to find Sonya in the kitchen making dinner for everyone.

“Mama!” James flew to her, and she swept him into her arms.

“Amy! Heavens, we had no idea…I’m so embarrassed,” said Sonya, coloring a bright pink. “You must think it very strange to find me cooking in your kitchen, but we’ve all been working hard, and I thought a huge pot of spaghetti would be a good energy booster.”

“I don’t mind in the least—” Amy sniffed the wonderful aroma appreciatively “—as long as there’s enough for me. It’s so kind of you.”

Sonya relaxed and shooed the children to set the table.

Carmela and Antonio appeared, looking tired and dusty. “I’ve been in the attic room, Amy,” Antonio told her, “with Gabriel. All the old trunks have been brought down, and we got rid of everything except some old photos. We found one of your father with you as a little girl—look.”

They all pored over the pictures, seated around the table eating Sonya’s delicious spaghetti and drinking a well-earned bottle of chianti. Amy thought, not for the first time, how close they had all become and how lucky she was to have such wonderful friends.

Later, she and Gabriel wandered round the house, which now looked rather bare. A few basic bits of furniture remained, but they had taken down the dusty old curtains and thrown away the threadbare rugs. Sonya had cleaned the windows, and moonlight flooded the rooms.

“It’s going to be lovely, Gabriel. This is going to be the dining room, overlooking the canal. The proportions of the villa are so graceful, and Maria will be proud when she looks down and sees how beautiful it will be.”

“Once the plans are through, the main house can be converted in about three months, so with luck, you should be able to open for business in February—in time for the Venice Carnival.”

“That would be wonderful. I’ve never seen it, except in pictures.”

“Then you have a treat in store. Amy, I have to be away for a few days. I’m going to be travelling to auctions in Zurich, Barcelona, and Turin, and possibly Christies in London, as well. If you take me to the airport tomorrow, you can keep the boat while I’m away.”

“Thank you, Gabriel. That would be so useful. We must buy our own soon; perhaps you can help me to choose one when you get back?”

Gabriel fell silent for a moment, then turned her to face him. “Did you see him?”

“How did you know?”

“It’s in your eyes.”

“He came to the office while I was there.”

“And?”

She fell silent, her shoulders bowed with misery.

“I see.” Gabriel sighed. “You know the lawyer will be corresponding with his company to transfer deeds to some of Maria’s investments to you, right? He might see your name on some documents.”

“I know.”

“Amy…would it help if…if I married you?”

“Gabriel!”

“Well…I care for you very much, and I would be good to James. I think we could make a go of it.”

“But why? Why would you do something like that when you know how I feel about Alessandro? I could never love you like that, even though I adore you as my friend.”

“Because then Alessandro would have no hold on you. I would adopt James so that even if he did find out about him, he would be powerless to take him away from you.”

Amy put her arms around Gabriel and rested her head on his shoulder. “That is the most wonderful thing anyone has ever offered to do for me, darling Gabriel.”

“Think about it. Give me your answer when I get back from my trip.” He tipped her head back and kissed her lightly on the mouth. “I think it would be fun being married to you, Amy. We should fight a lot, but I think I can promise you it would be interesting making up.”

“You are outrageous.”She laughed softly. “And I do love you. Truly, I do.”

Neither of them heard the door softly close as Sonya crept sadly back to the kitchen to take Donna home to bed.

The next morning, when Amy returned with the boat, which she was now very adept at using, Carmela told her Sandra had called from England and that she should call back urgently. With trepidation, she called the office, and Sandra answered, sounding very flustered.

“Amy, I got this number from your mother because I had to talk to you personally. After you left, Alessandro came back to the office and went straight to your room. He went through your remaining personal stuff, even though I gave him a real roasting for it. He said he couldn’t believe you had run away from him again and that there had to be a reason. Fortunately, there was nothing with your number or address in Venice in the drawer—but there was a picture of James.”

“Oh, no,” sighed Amy. “What did he say?”

“He looked at it long and hard and put it in his pocket. I think he knew instantly—well, you could hardly miss the likeness, could you? He went very pale and just left the building without saying a word to anyone.”

“Well, I suppose it had to happen sometime. Now that he has edged back into my life, I had a gut feeling he would find out. Thanks for letting me know.”

“Look, Amy, he can’t just come in and take James away—however powerful his family is, there is still the law. And you know it might be important for James to know his father. Have you thought of that?”

“Yes, increasingly, I have. I am so confused, Sandra, because James has been my reason to live ever since I split up with Alessandro. I have an almost pathological fear of losing him too. But I have denied him his father, and one day, he may hate me for it.”

“I think you should just wait and see how Alessandro deals with the knowledge, which I am certain he now has. He will probably move heaven and Earth to find you, so be on your guard. But I wonder how he will explain an illegitimate son to his wife?”

“Has she been to the office?”

“No, nor has he mentioned her at all, come to think of it. But then, we have kept all discussions on strictly business footing, and he hasn’t socialized with any of us. I know he was due to fly to Paris today and then back to Rome next week with a couple of stops along the way, so you’re not likely to see him for a while. He has a busy schedule, and he still doesn’t know you’re in Venice. Take care, and keep me informed.” She rang off, leaving Amy staring at the phone in dismay.

For the next week, Amy was very jumpy. She spent a lot of time with James after school, and most days, Donna came round to play. The children rarely quarreled, so it was with some concern that Amy went running to the garden when she heard their voices raised. A shouting match was in progress, and James was bright red with tears running down his face.

“I never had a papa,” he yelled. “I didn’t need one because I had Mama and Grandmamma. And you’re telling lies! You never had a papa either because he wouldn’t have left you if he loved you! Papas who love you stay.”

Donna instantly burst into tears too. “I did have a papa,” she sobbed, “and he did love me, he did! But God took him away because he was ill and couldn’t stay with us anymore. But he still loves me from Heaven and my mama too. If your papa doesn’t know you, how can he love you? If he’s in Heaven, he must be wondering who you are.”

Amy moved quickly between the children and gave them both a hug.

“Now, now, little ones, that’s enough. Come and have some tea and be friends.”

The children quickly forgot their quarrel, but Amy knew that coming so soon after her conversation with Sandra, it was an omen; the time was coming to talk to James about his father.

The next day, being Saturday, she asked Sonya and Donna to come with her and James for a day of sightseeing. She’d had very little time to visit any of the wonderful places in Venice during the five weeks she had been there. “I need a breather, and some new clothes, so what do you say?” she begged.

“We would love to come,” said Sonya. “We’ll take a
vaporetto
early and have breakfast when we get there. What a good idea.”

The late September day dawned fresh and clear, and by eight o’clock, they were all jammed onto the
vaporetto
with the many workers on their way to shops and offices on the islands. The children, excited by the outing, enjoyed the choppy crossing. The boat docked at St. Mark’s Square, and they joined the thousands of awestruck visitors gazing at the scene before them. They stood where so many had before them, looking up the canal at the Bridge of Sighs, over which so many miserable wretches had been led to the dungeons and a horrible death. They walked past the graceful arches of the Doge’s Palace and into St. Mark’s Square itself, to stand and stare at the Byzantine basilica with its four horses gazing down at them from their balcony.

“It’s stunning.” Amy sighed with pleasure. “It’s so long since I’ve seen it, I had forgotten the impact of just being here.”

“Can we feed the pigeons?” pleaded Donna.

So they bought the children some packets of corn from one of the many sellers in the square and laughed as the children quickly disappeared under a grey flapping cloud of hungry birds. James stood frozen as one sat on his head and three others clutched at his sweater and clambered up his arm, but he didn’t panic and bravely held out his hand for them to feed. When they had finished, it was time for a late breakfast at a restaurant overlooking the canal.

While the children were busy looking at nearby stall that sold every kind of souvenir, Amy told Sonya about the conversation she had overheard between the children. “I am sorry if James upset Donna. But he doesn’t understand about fathers because I am afraid I have never told him anything about his own. Donna obviously remembers her papa?”

“Yes, she does. He died about eighteen months ago, from leukemia; he was only thirty-five, and it was very traumatic for us both. She remembers him cuddling her, and she knows that he still loves her. I sometimes hear her talking to him in her room. She has adjusted really well, as children do, and mercifully seems to only remember the nice things.”

“You, on the other hand, are still coping with the aftermath,” said Amy, taking her friend’s hand.

“I am much happier now, especially since you and James have moved in so close by. I am ready to move on. What about you?”

“James is everything to me. I never married his father, and he doesn’t figure in our lives at present. But I am afraid the time has come to be honest with James, and I’m dreading it. After hearing his confused conversation with Donna, I know I have to try to explain things to him.”

“Just keep it simple. Don’t overburden him with your own anxiety, and he’ll accept it. Kids do. Shall we shop?”

They spent the rest of the day wandering round the back streets, over endless canal bridges, watching gondoliers punting along with boats full of camera-hung Japanese tourists, and had lunch. They explored a couple of the incredible Renaissance churches, drooled over paintings by Titian and Tintoretto, and Amy found some clothes she liked in a boutique. Finally, they caught a late ferry back to the Lido, with two exhausted children sleeping on their laps.