‘I doubt if I’ll buy anything. I’m sure I’ll enjoy Carnival, but I don’t think I need to dress up for it.’
He shook his head. ‘You won’t stick to that, Sally. You won’t be able to, once you’ve seen the range of disguises and all the new personalities they offer you.’
‘We’ll have to wait and see who’s right,’ she said.
‘I’m always right,’ he declared. But his teasing eyes robbed the words of bullying.
‘So am I,’ she said.
‘Good for you. We obviously have a lot in common. I recall you telling me, the first evening, that you didn’t really know yourself. Sometimes you thought you did, but you were always wrong.’
‘Yes. I feel as though I’m a lot of different people. It’s something to do with being an actress.’
‘I thought you said you were an accountant.’
‘I am. The acting is amateur. Just a hobby. I prize it because it gives me freedom.’
‘The freedom to be someone else,’ he said slowly.
‘That’s right. It can be boring being the same person all the time.’
‘And how many people do you want to be?’
‘It changes. It’s as though there are two or three versions of me. The accountant has to be severe and sensible, but I have an inner self who secretly wants to go mad and behave wildly.’
‘Only secretly?’
‘Well, I must admit she gets an outing now and then. I feel as though I’m always wearing a mask. I’m so practical on the surface, but if people knew me inside they’d get a shock.’
‘Then you’ve come to the right place. Venice is a city of many masks. You must find the one that suits you. Or perhaps several that suit you.’
‘I suppose we wear different masks for different people,’ she mused.
‘And some please us better than others.’
Inspiration dawned. ‘And when we know which ones please us best, then we know who we really are.’
He nodded. ‘I was about to say exactly the same. How well we understand each other. Now I must say goodbye and get to work. Enjoy yourself.’
He went to his office, turning at the door to give her a smile. She answered it with another, and was about to go upstairs when she heard the sound of vigorous voices coming from the breakfast room. Returning, she found find Pietro and Mario deep in argument. Pietro was clutching Toby’s lead.
‘He wants a mask too,’ Pietro declared. ‘I promised him one. We could come home and collect him when school’s finished.’
‘You can’t bring him to the shop,’ Mario protested. ‘They won’t let him in. Not after what he did last time. Now give him to me and be off to school.’
Reluctantly Pietro departed.
‘I hate refusing him anything,’ Mario said. ‘I always feel so sorry for him after what Imelda did, running out on him. Do you know about her?’
‘She was Pietro’s stepmother? I know she abandoned him.’
‘She was a monster. In the end she took herself off with a man.’
‘She was unfaithful to Damiano?’
‘Oh, yes. And not just once.’
‘Did he know?’
‘Yes. I thought he’d throw her out and divorce her, but he didn’t, for Pietro’s sake. She was nice to Pietro to begin with because she knew that was the way to get close to Damiano. And it worked. He thought she was nice, and they ended up in bed. But don’t tell him I told you that.’
‘I promise.’
‘Next thing she said she was pregnant. She knew how to get him to marry her and it worked. But there was no baby. After the wedding she said she’d “made a mistake”. She’d got what she wanted by then and she thought that was enough.’
‘But she was wrong?’
Mario looked around to check that they were still alone. When he spoke it was in a low voice.
‘He’s only ever loved one woman, and that was Gina.’
‘But she’s been dead for years,’ Sally protested. ‘Surely—?’
‘Yes, you might think he’d move on to someone else, but he hasn’t. Somehow he just can’t. I asked him about it once. He’d been drinking or I wouldn’t have dared, but he was in a mood to talk. He said he could never love again because once you’d known perfection, nothing else could do. Next day he didn’t remember saying anything and I didn’t remind him.
‘Imelda played the mother for a while, trying to impress him. But she was always jealous of Gina. That became jealousy of Pietro because he’s Gina’s son. She was sharp with him, neglected him, and finally abandoned him. Damiano was so furious that instead of divorcing her he had the marriage annulled. It was like he wiped her out of existence. That’s how he deals with people who offend him. They shrink to nothing and end up wishing they’d never offended him.’
‘Yes,’ she murmured. ‘I can imagine.’
*
Midway through the afternoon Sally, Charlie and Mario set out on their expedition.
‘Pietro’s school isn’t far,’ Mario said. ‘Just a few alleys further. They should be coming out by now.’
Out of sight Sally crossed her fingers, hoping that all would be well with Pietro.
She knew her prayers had been answered when she saw him at the school gate, beaming and waving to her. A little distance away, a small crowd of boys was regarding him wryly, almost nervously.
‘That’s Renzo,’ he said, pointing to one in the front.
Renzo seemed about the same age as Pietro, with a lean, scowling face.
‘Why is he looking so cross?’ she asked.
‘Because I got the better of him,’ Pietro said happily.
‘How?’
‘I called him a pesky twerp. He didn’t know what it meant, but one of the others did, and they thought it was funny that he didn’t know. They started chanting it and it made him look silly.’
‘Well done,’ she said. ‘That’s the way to deal with bullies.’
As they left Pietro waved at the little crowd, most of whom waved back. Renzo didn’t, but nobody seemed so impressed by him now.
In a merry mood they all made their way along the narrow alleys until they reached the shop that offered dazzling masks and glittering costumes.
Sally had read that Carnival dated back to the twelfth century, when the Venetians fought back against an enemy who tried to conquer them. They were successful, and celebrated their triumph by dancing in St Mark’s Square. For the next few hundred years the festival grew until Venice was conquered by another opponent who outlawed Carnival and forbade the wearing of masks.
‘That’s one reason masks are so important,’ Mario told her. ‘Our conquerors were afraid of them because having our faces covered made it easy for us to fight back. If you can hide who you are you have great freedom to defend yourself.’
‘Freedom to be who you really are,’ she murmured.
‘If you know who you really are,’ Mario observed. ‘Maybe you use the freedom to make that discovery.’
‘And your enemies didn’t want you to know that,’ she said.
‘Right. In the end they resorted to banning Carnival entirely, and it stayed banned until it was restored nearly forty years ago. The cynics will say it was brought back to attract tourists, but there’s more to it than that. Carnival is our proof of liberty, our assertion that we are Venetians.’
Excited, she plunged into exploring the shop. Each mask seemed to offer her the chance to become a new personality, and their sheer number left her stunned.
‘I can’t get my head around this,’ she said. ‘How many masks can I buy?’
‘First you need a half-mask, to emphasise your beauty,’ he said.
She almost replied, ‘Beauty? What beauty?’ But she stayed silent and was glad when she saw what he’d chosen. It was a half-mask, covering only her eyes, nose and upper cheeks, leaving her mouth free. Flowers and feathers adorned the crown.
She regarded the vision in the mirror with wonder. Truly that was a beautiful woman look
ing back at her, but was it really herself?
She removed the mask reluctantly, and looked around the shop until she saw something that made her grow still.
‘Those white faces,’ she said. ‘So many, all exactly the same.’
He lifted one. It was a full face mask, completely white except for the closed mouth that was painted on. The only spaces were for the eyes.
‘A mask like this has two names,’ Mario explained. ‘One is “volto” which is Italian for “face”. The other is “larva”, which is Latin, and means “ghost”.’
‘Oh, yes, I can see why,’ she said, examining it in delight. ‘There’s no life in it. It could be a dead person.’
‘They’re popular because they give nothing away about whoever’s wearing them. And that can be useful if you don’t want to be recognised.’
He said the last words with a teasing significance that made her look up quickly.
‘Don’t want to—? Just what do you think I’m going to get up to?’
‘Much the same as everyone else gets up to. Don’t be offended.’
‘I’m not. But watch it, cheeky.’
‘Yes, ma’am.’
He grinned, regarding her with pleasure. When she put the beautiful half-mask back on her face he eyed her with frank admiration. But then an impulse made her remove it and put on the ghost mask. Just as the glamorous one gave her a new self, the ‘ghost’ concealed her entire self.
‘I’ll have them both,’ she said.
Charlie and Pietro were going through the shop excitedly. Pietro chose an extravagant mask with a huge nose. Charlie purchased two masks and two costumes. Sally paid for them, then indicated the door.
‘Out.’
‘But I also want—’
‘Out.’
‘Bully.’
‘All women are bullies,’ Mario said cheerfully. ‘The trick is to know how to get on their right side.’
He winked at Sally as he spoke, and she laughed. She liked Mario’s jokey nature. Damiano had hinted that he was also a bit of a ‘bad lad’, but he had so much charm it was easy to ignore everything else.
‘Are you going to buy a costume?’ he asked. ‘Damiano’s giving a ball at the hotel to mark the start of Carnival. Say you’ll come with me. Come on, say it.’
‘All right. It sounds nice. What kind of costume do I need?’
‘Just a long dress. It can be anything you like.’
She found what she needed almost at once. It was blue, a slim, satin dress with a long skirt that started immediately under the bosom.
‘Makes me look like a Regency heroine,’ she mused, pleased with its austere elegance.
That evening Mario and Pietro displayed their masks at dinner.
‘That?’ Damiano exclaimed, staring at the mask, so ugly that it was practically a gargoyle. ‘Isn’t that a bit overdone for you?’
‘It might have been yesterday,’ Sally explained. ‘But today it shows the new Pietro, the hero of the hour.’
Damiano regarded his son, noting the air of triumph that had rarely been there before.
‘Tell me more,’ he said. ‘Did you fight a lion?’
‘No, he fought a bully,’ Sally said. ‘Not with fists but with words, which are far more effective. There’s a boy at school who’s been giving him trouble, but after the way Pietro stood up to him today he’s going to be a lot more careful.’
Nothing in Damiano’s expression revealed that he’d heard any part of this story before.
‘What kind of trouble?’ he asked his son.
‘Renzo laughed at me,’ Pietro said, happy to tell his father everything now that he could boast of a triumph. ‘So the others laughed at me as well. But today I called him a pesky twerp. His English is all right in class, but he doesn’t understand slang.’
‘Pietro caught him off guard,’ Sally said. ‘That’s the way to deal with a foe.’
‘Yes, it is,’ Damiano agreed.
Across the table Sally gave him a significant glance, urging him to make the most of this chance. He seemed to understand because he went on,
‘This Renzo fellow sounds like a few I met when I was your age. Making them look silly is the best way to bring them down. Well done, my son. I’m proud of you.’
Pietro didn’t reply in words, but the look he turned on Damiano said everything that was needed. To have won his father’s pride and respect filled him with a joy and awe that made his eyes shine. In his turn Damiano too seemed struck by feelings that had taken him pleasantly by surprise.
‘I think I’ll have an early night,’ Sally said. ‘I still need a little rest. Goodnight, everyone.’
She slipped away into the hall, feeling that father and son would do better without her intrusion. But before she reached the stairs she heard Damiano’s voice behind her.
‘Sally, wait!’
Turning, she saw him hurrying across the floor. As he caught her he laid a hand on her arm as though afraid she would escape. He was beaming.
‘Is there anything you can’t do?’ he demanded. ‘I was going out of my mind trying to think of a way to put things right for Pietro, but you just waved your magic wand and solved every problem.’
‘Not entirely. Renzo will pull himself together and try again.’
‘But Pietro will cope, because of your help.’
‘And yours. Did you see his face when you praised him? You took a huge step forward with him tonight.’
‘Thanks to you. But why did you leave just now? It’s your achievement. You must take the credit for it.’
‘No, I mustn’t. This is about you and Pietro. Not me. Time for me to withdraw.’
‘Withdraw? You mean go back to England?’ he asked sharply.
‘No, I mean… You and that lovely boy have a chance to move on, and I’ll just be in the way.’
‘But you will return to England eventually,’ he mused.
‘Is that your way of telling me not to stay here too long?’ she asked in a teasing voice.
‘No, it definitely isn’t. The longer you stay, the better.’
‘You’ll be offering me a job next.’
He regarded her. ‘Maybe I will.’
‘You think I’d make a good governess?’
He regarded her in silence for a moment before saying slowly, ‘I think you’d be good at whatever you set your mind to.’
‘Very kind. I’m flattered. Now I’m going to bed and you should get back to Pietro because I’m sure he’s got a lot to say to you. And you’ve probably got a lot to say to him.’
‘I said you were good at whatever you put your mind to, and you’ve just proved it.’
‘Go back to Pietro,’ she repeated. ‘And don’t say I’m turning into a nag because I know I am. It’s a very useful accomplishment.’
He smiled. ‘I’m sure it’s one you use whenever it suits you.’
‘I do anything I want when it suits me. Don’t you?’
‘Absolutely. Goodnight, my dear friend.’
‘Goodnight,’ she said and hurried away up the stairs. Something in the warmth and charm of his smile had made it urgently necessary to get away from him.
At the corner she looked back to find him in the same place. Now the smile had gone and his face was transformed by a frown that suggested deep inner confusion.
Impossible, she thought. This man was never confused by anything. Yet that strange look stayed with her as she lay awake that night.
*
The next day, Damiano said, ‘Sally, everyone else has shown me their masks. What about you?’
‘Don’t show him, Sally,’ Mario said. ‘Take him by surprise.’
‘Right, I will.’
‘That’s the spirit.’ He laid a finger over his lips and his eyes twinkled.
‘You can’t keep it to yourself for ever,’ Damiano observed. ‘We’re having a masked ball in the hotel tonight. I expect to see you there.’
‘She will be,’ Mario said, slipping an arm around Sal
ly’s waist. ‘She’s already promised to let me escort her.’
‘Indeed,’ Damiano observed wryly. ‘I wonder how you managed to extort that promise.’
‘I used my charm, of course. How else?’
‘Is that what you call it?’ Sally queried with wide-eyed innocence.
‘Just tell me if you want protection from my brother,’ Damiano told her.
‘Thank you but I’m more than capable of taking care of myself,’ she said cheerfully.
‘Can I come to the ball?’ Pietro asked with delight.
‘Just for an hour,’ Damiano told him. ‘Then it will be bedtime.’
‘I’m really looking forward to this,’ Sally said.
It was true. New vistas were opening before her, and she was advancing to them eagerly. She spent the next few hours preparing her appearance.
Now she found that there was substance in the theory of masks and different selves. The glamorous dress, the extravagant mask with its feathers and jewels surely had nothing to do with her. Yet they attached themselves to her as though this were where they belonged, and she wore them with ease. The only part of herself that could be seen was her mouth, and suddenly this became the mouth of a beauty.
She smiled to herself.
‘I don’t know who you are,’ she murmured. ‘But you’re me and I’m you. And I think we’re going to get on very well.’
There was a knock on the door.
‘It’s me,’ Mario called.
She found him dressed in an elegant velvet suit of dark brown. His face was half covered by a mask that suggested a lion.
‘Grrr!’ he said, raising his hands with the fingers curled like claws.
‘You’re really scary.’ She chuckled.
‘To everyone but you, I hope.’
‘Oh, I’m not easily scared.’
‘I guess that’s why you handle Damiano so well. He scares everyone else.’
‘He wouldn’t be the perfect employer, would he?’
‘Employer? Has he offered you a job?’
‘He dropped a hint that I might make a good governess for Pietro.’
‘Governess? He’s mad. Mind you, he tends to see everything from Pietro’s angle. But don’t let him get away with it.’
Not Just a Convenient Marriage Page 7