Dreaming of Venice

by Dreaming of Venice (retail) (epub)

  ‘Hi, Leonardo. I came back to see you.’

  ‘And you’re very welcome. You still look cold. What about some grappa?’

  Penny shook her head. ‘I’d better not, thanks, but I’d have a hot drink if that’s possible.’

  ‘Of course, what would you like?’

  ‘Could I have a cup of tea, English-style, with a drop of cold milk?’

  ‘Of course, and maybe a sandwich or a focaccia?’

  Penny spent half an hour there, doing her best to get over her disappointment that she hadn’t been able to find out about Rico. She even considered asking Leonardo if he knew him, but just enquiring whether he knew a tall man with a black beard would have sounded very lame and would no doubt have achieved nothing in a city of a quarter of a million people, excluding tourists. She ate a warm focaccia with a roast vegetable filling as she drank her tea and the whole lot cost less than a small beer in her previous hotel. She left there just before ten and managed to navigate her way back to St Mark’s Square successfully. By now she was feeling very tired after her broken night: she was back at the hotel and in bed before eleven, wondering how Olivia and Caroline were getting on with their dates and what Rico might be doing, wherever he was. Mercifully, she didn’t lie awake too long as tiredness overcame her and she fell into a deep sleep.

  Chapter 20

  Penny woke up feeling warm and comfortable. She had been dreaming of Venice again, but this time it had been a dream of magical islands and hot summer sun. She had been effortlessly sculling her own gondola across the lagoon when she had spotted Jimmy sitting in a canoe. He was carrying his new satchel in one hand and with the other he was pointing in the direction of a man standing on the shore of a tiny island. The man had a mass of unruly black hair and she could see the outline of his beard, but his face was turned away from her. She tried her hardest to row towards the shore, but the current kept pushing her away, closer and closer towards a rocky reef. Fortunately, it was at that point that she woke up.

  She glanced at the time and was surprised to see that it was already well past eight. Of course, she told herself, she was effectively on holiday today but, even so, she was surprised that she had slept so well and for so long. No sooner did her mind clear, however, than the warm comfortable feeling was replaced by a sense of melancholy that not even the prospect of a day on the Venice lagoon could shift. She was still lying there, unwilling to get up and launch herself into the day when her phone started ringing. It was Olivia and it soon emerged that she had some amazing news.

  ‘Hi Olivia, how did it go with Jonathan last night?’ Penny settled back against the pillow.

  ‘It went brilliantly. We had a super time and we talked and talked and talked. And part of what we talked about was you, Penny.’

  ‘Me?’

  ‘Yes, I told him all about how you’ve been standing in for me over these past few months and he was truly amazed. He had no idea at all that you weren’t me.’ Penny could hear her giggle. ‘He even confessed to having enjoyed the kiss you gave him so much he couldn’t sleep for thinking of me.’

  ‘It was only a teeny weenie little kiss, but I’m glad if it helped.’

  ‘Well, I gave him a considerably longer kiss myself later on, so he went off very happy indeed. Anyway, Penny, listen, are you interested in a job?’

  ‘A job? I thought you were back in business.’

  ‘And I am, but it’s not that sort of job. Listen, Jon’s father’s crazy about art. He and my father were very close friends and I know they even talked about setting up a gallery together. Anyway, since Daddy’s death, that’s what Jon’s father has done. He probably told you they have a charitable foundation, sort of like ours.’

  ‘He did, and he said the new gallery was here in Venice.’

  ‘That’s right. Anyway, they’re looking for an assistant curator. The right person would need to have an art degree, preferably postgraduate, and be fluent in Italian and English. Well, I immediately thought of you. What do you think? Interested?’

  Penny sat bolt upright in bed. She had been planning on existing on the proceeds of her work for Olivia at least until she could see the success or otherwise of her Piccadilly show. If her paintings started to sell well, then she hoped to make it as a professional artist. If, as was more likely, she only sold a few or, God forbid, none at all, she had no doubt that she would have to seek a “proper” job in order to support herself. But a job in a gallery here in Venice?

  ‘Olivia, that sounds awesome.’ And it really did. ‘The only problem’s my show coming up in January. I would probably need a bit of time off to go back to London for the vernissage and to see how it’s going, maybe even do a few press interviews if I’m really lucky.’

  ‘I thought of that and mentioned it to Jon – he wasn’t bothered. In fact he was very impressed to know that you were exhibiting your own paintings. The gallery here opens its doors to the public tomorrow night, but that exhibition’s going to run until Easter. He says he could easily spare you for a few weeks in January. So, what do you think? Does it appeal?’

  ‘Yes, yes, it does. It appeals very much indeed. Wow!’ Penny’s melancholy had been chased away in a flash. She got up and pulled the curtains open, looking out onto the roofs, most covered with white frost. In fact, as she stared outside, she saw a few little snowflakes in the air. It didn’t need the sight of a row of pigeons, feathers puffed up to twice their normal size, sheltering on the window ledge directly opposite her hotel, to realise that it was going to be another extremely cold day, far from the tropical conditions of her dream. She returned to the matter in hand. ‘So what should I do? They’ll want to interview me.’

  Olivia gave Penny Jon’s phone number. ‘He said I should speak to you first thing and he asks you, if you’re interested, to ring him straight away.’

  ‘Fantastic, Olivia, I will. Thank you so much.’

  ‘No thanks needed. So, what’s your plan for today?’

  ‘Well, I’ll see what Jonathan says. By the way, his name’s Carstairs, isn’t it?’ She heard Olivia agree. ‘Once I’ve seen him, I’m planning on taking that tour of the outlying islands you recommended.’

  ‘You’ll love it. And what about your mystery man? Did you manage to contact him?’

  ‘The restaurant was closed last night. I’m going to have to try again today.’

  ‘Well good luck with it. I’m sure it’ll work out. Will you ring me this evening to tell me how you got on with the daytrip, the job and of course your pirate man?’

  ‘Of course. And thanks again, Olivia.’

  After she had rung off, Penny dialled the number Olivia had given her. As she heard it ringing she had a sudden moment of panic. What should she call him? As a potential employer, it should really be Mr Carstairs, but as her friend’s boyfriend and a man she had also kissed, then Jonathan would appear more logical. She was still weighing up her options when she heard his voice.

  ‘Hello.’

  ‘Um, hi, hello, it’s Penny Lane calling. You know, Olivia’s friend.’

  ‘Penny, hello. Thanks so much for calling. First of all, my congratulations on the splendid job you’ve been doing for Olivia. You had me totally fooled.’ There was a momentary pause during which Penny found herself wondering if he was going to comment on the fact that she had kissed him. Quite probably he was thinking along the same lines as his voice sounded more than a little sheepish as he carried on. ‘Yes, totally fooled. Anyway, has Olivia told you about our new project?’

  ‘The gallery you mentioned to me on Monday?’

  ‘That’s right, and has she mentioned that we’re looking for somebody to work alongside the curator? Well, if you can spare the time to come along this morning, we’ll both be there and we could have a little chat about your background and experience.’

  ‘Of course, thank you very much.’ A thought occurred to her. All her smart clothes were packed into suitcases in Caroline’s room. ‘I’m afraid I’ll just be in jeans, though, a
s I’ve left most of my clothes in the other hotel.’

  She heard him laugh. ‘Yes, Olivia told me the subterfuge extended all the way to your wardrobe. Anyway, don’t worry about that at all. Come as you are, we’ll be delighted to see you.’ He gave her the name and address of the new gallery and they agreed to meet at half past ten that morning.

  After putting the phone down, Penny had a sudden thought. She felt through the pockets of her jeans and, in the back pocket, she found the leaflet Rico had given her about a new exhibition opening that week. She had slipped it into her pocket without doing more than casting a quick glance over it and only now did she see that the name of the gallery was the Carstairs Gallery. There was a website address and, as she was searching for it on the internet, she suddenly realised that there was a chance she might meet Rico there. She resolved to go to the opening the following night, whether she got the job or not. This might be an even better way of getting back into contact with him than asking at the restaurant. Her spirits rose even higher.

  As she slowly perused the website for information about the new gallery and the exhibition, she phoned Caroline. She explained about the job interview and broached the subject that had been worrying her. ‘The thing is, Caroline, if they offer me the job, it’ll mean me coming to live here in Venice and that means moving out of your place. I don’t want to leave you in the lurch. Is that going to screw things up for you with the mortgage?’

  ‘Not at all. I’ll be sorry to lose you, but, to be totally honest, I somehow don’t think it’s going to be long before Nick and I start thinking about moving in together.’

  ‘Things that good between you and him?’

  ‘Things are just amazing between us.’

  ‘I’m so, so pleased for you both. Well, if you’re sure, wish me luck.’

  ‘You don’t need luck. You’ll nail it.’

  As she settled down to study the website, Penny found she was humming to herself.

  * * *

  The new gallery was housed in the most amazing Renaissance palace right beside the Grand Canal. As a place of work it looked truly remarkable. Penny arrived just before half past ten and walked up three steps into the stunning entrance hall. The floor was a complex mosaic of pink and white marble, worn smooth in places by the passage of countless feet. Massive stone columns supported a ceiling made up of huge oak beams, between which were strung steel wires studded with ultramodern LED lights. Right in front of her, as the glass doors slid silently apart, was the base of a column supporting a naked torso without a head, perfectly sculpted out of the finest Carrara marble. Penny stopped to admire it for a moment before turning towards the reception desk. A girl was standing behind the long counter and she looked up with a smile.

  ‘Good morning, signorina, how can I help? The exhibition doesn’t open until tomorrow.’

  ‘Hello, my name’s Penny Lane and I’ve got an appointment…’ A voice from behind interrupted her.

  ‘Penny, how wonderful to see you.’

  She turned to see Jonathan running down the stairs towards her. ‘I saw you on the screen.’ He pointed towards a bulbous lens at ceiling height. ‘Security has to be tight here. The artworks on display are irreplaceable.’ He smiled across at the girl behind the desk. ‘It’s all right, Carla, I’ll look after Penny.’

  He came across and shook her hand and then led her back up the stairs towards the first floor. He kept glancing across at her and smiling. Finally he clearly couldn’t hold himself back any longer. He stopped just before the top of the wide marble staircase and turned towards her. ‘It’s absolutely amazing just how similar you are. Are you sure you and Olivia aren’t estranged twins or something like that?’

  Penny grinned. ‘I’ve got a friend who thinks that, but I think it’s just coincidence, and a bit of smoke and mirrors with hairstyles and fingernails. We are very similar though, I must admit.’ Her grin broadened. ‘I had you fooled, didn’t I?’

  He blushed. ‘Yes, you certainly did. Anyway, come and let me present you to Enrico. He’s our curator.’ Penny followed his outstretched hand up the stairs and paused at the top to wait for Jonathan. He guided her towards an open door on the left, gave it a little tap and led her inside. ‘Enrico, please let me introduce you to Penny. She’s interested in being your right hand.’

  An elderly gentleman with a shock of white hair looked up from his desk and dropped his pen onto the documents he had been reading. He stood up and came around to greet her, removing his reading glasses as he did so. As he reached her he shook her hand and gave a little bow of the head. ‘Enrico Innocenti. How very good of you to come and see us.’

  Penny answered in Italian and, as she did so, she was turning over the old gentleman’s name in her head. It suddenly came to her. She gave him a big smile. ‘Professor Innocenti, it’s a privilege to meet you. Your work on Venetian artists of the Renaissance pretty much wrote my MA thesis for me.’ She glanced across at Jonathan who was looking on amiably. Sensing that he wasn’t following the conversation, she translated into English. ‘Professor Innocenti’s books are world famous. I’m so excited to meet him.’

  The interview took place partly in English and partly in Italian. By the end, Penny knew she would love to work with Professor Innocenti, here in this amazing place. Jonathan, it turned out, was only here for a few days to see that the grand opening tomorrow went well and would only be popping back from time to time to check that everything was going smoothly. Penny wasn’t sorry. Somehow, after the intimacy of her first meeting with him, when he had clearly been besotted with her, albeit thinking she was somebody else, she knew it would be weird to work with him on a daily basis, knowing that he had strong feelings for her sort-of-identical twin. As it was, this sounded like a perfect solution.

  Professor Innocenti asked her a number of searching questions about her MA studies and she had to rack her brains to remember some of the names and dates but, all in all, she thought it went pretty well. He was fascinated by the study she had made of Olivia’s Bosch triptych and she promised to send him a copy of the article. He was very interested in her upcoming exhibition and insisted upon her showing him some photos of her work that she had on her phone. He studied them reverently, zooming in and out of the pictures, lavishing as much attention upon them as if they were priceless historical canvasses, before pronouncing his judgement upon them.

  ‘You have considerable talent, Miss Lane. I think you will go far.’

  She blushed red, awed to receive praise from such an exalted source. Finally, Jonathan asked her if she would mind taking a seat downstairs in the entrance hall for a few minutes so that he and Enrico could have a little discussion. Penny made her way back downstairs again, really hoping she would get the job.

  The receptionist, Carla, offered her a coffee and Penny accepted gladly. A quick telephone call and two minutes later a waiter appeared at the door with a tray. Carla explained that the café across the road was very obliging and always happy to deliver. Penny was impressed. With espresso coffee just a phone call away, she knew she would have to watch her caffeine intake if she did come to work here.

  As they drank their coffees, they chatted in Italian. Penny asked her about the palace itself. Carla explained as much as she knew. ‘To be honest, I only started two weeks ago and there’s been so much to do with getting the exhibition set up and making the arrangements for tomorrow night’s vernissage party, I haven’t had much time to find out all about it. I believe Jonathan said the building dates back to the fifteen hundreds.’

  Penny nodded. That sounded about right. ‘I wouldn’t be surprised if parts of it were even older. This floor, for example, is stunning. I wonder if it might not even be early medieval. Who owns this place? Jonathan and the Foundation?’

  Carla shook her head. ‘No, they lease it, I think. It belongs to some old noble Venetian family. And you, Penny, are you from an old noble family in England?’

  Penny laughed. ‘No, dead common I’m afraid. I’m an art
ist and I’ve been working in a café for the last couple of years, trying to make ends meet.’ She glanced round at the unbelievable decorative refinement of the palace and reflected upon the difference between it and the Apocalypse Café. She decided that, sooner or later, if she did get the job, she would have to get Jimmy to come over and see it for himself.

  A few minutes later, the phone on the counter rang and Carla told Penny she had been asked to return to Professor Innocenti’s office. Feeling really quite nervous, she walked back up the stairs, but she needn’t have worried. Professor Innocenti was waiting for her with a sheaf of papers and the offer of a job.

  ‘Jonathan has been called away for a video conference, so let me tell you what we’re offering, in the hope that you will accept our offer and take the job. Personally, I would be delighted and proud to have an artist of such talent working with me. And a Renaissance art historian as well!’ He went on to outline the terms and conditions of the job and Penny was pleasantly surprised to hear the salary. She knew that accommodation would be her biggest expense here and in all probability, she would have to do as so many did and live on the mainland in Mestre or Marghera and commute by bus or rail to work. Even so, a quick calculation confirmed that she should be able to live on what they were offering and even maybe start saving a little every month. When he had finished explaining everything, repeating that it was perfectly all right for her to take time off in January for her exhibition in London, she gave him a big smile and said yes.

  ‘Professor Innocenti, I’m delighted to accept the offer. I can’t imagine a more wonderful working environment, and the idea of working for you is too exciting for words.’

  They decided that Penny would start work at the beginning of January, so that she had a little time to make all the practical arrangements before then. The first person she called when she emerged from the interview was Caroline. It was almost half past eleven and she hoped to catch her during the mid-morning break at the conference. She did.