by T A Williams
* * *
When they got down to breakfast a couple of hours later, Rich and Marina were already there and it was immediately obvious that Marina had been crying. Rich was sitting close beside her and he was holding her hand. He hadn’t been crying but he was looking pretty miserable. Emma immediately did her best to cheer them up, even though their sombre mood so accurately matched her own.
‘Hi, guys. Mark and I have just been saying that seeing as this is our last full day together, we need to do our very best to make it unforgettable. I know you two will be seeing each other again in a month or so, but we owe it to Emily and Robert to make sure we give them the very best final day we can.’
She deliberately omitted any mention of when she and Mark might be seeing each other again, if ever, and concentrated on sounding positive and in control of the situation and of her emotions.
At least for now.
‘Marina, I want you to book us into the most fabulous, romantic and exquisite restaurant in Venice for dinner tonight. Ideally, make it somewhere that was operating back then before the First World War so I can take a final few photos. Can you do that?’
She was delighted to see a little smile form on Marina’s face. ‘I’ve already done that, if you’re agreeable. It’s called the l’Antica Trattoria and it’s supposed to have been there since the Napoleonic wars. It’s a twenty-minute walk from our hotel and everybody says the seafood there’s exquisite.’
Emma smiled back at her. ‘I knew we could count on you, Marina. That sounds fantastic. And what about our trip along the canal to Venice this afternoon?’
Once again, Marina was on the case. ‘It’s a bit pricey, but I’ve arranged for a water taxi to pick us up partway and take us right to our hotel. They said they’ll give us a little tour of Venice en route.’
‘Terrific.’ The smile still firmly plastered onto her face, Emma did her best to keep the mood positive. ‘Right, seeing as we’re celebrating today, I think I can allow myself a plate of bacon and eggs.’ She glanced across at Mark. ‘You going to join me? I think we’ve earned it.’
He grinned back. ‘A double helping for me.’
* * *
They drove down to the outskirts of Padua and left the car in a big car park. From there, they took a taxi into the city centre. Marina queried with the driver where he thought they should start their tour and he had no hesitation.
‘You have to start with the Basilica di Sant’Antonio. It’s one of the wonders of the world.’
Marina turned to the others with a smile. ‘Exactly what I thought. Great. First stop the basilica.’
He deposited them in the wide square, directly opposite the massive church. This turned out to be the oriental-looking building Emma had glimpsed from afar the previous evening. Marina took over from Mark as their guide as this was a city she knew well.
‘The basilica was started in 1232 and it took almost a century to finish. It’s a unique mixture of styles, predominantly Romanesque and Byzantine. See the domes on the roof, for example. And if you wonder how I know that, it’s because I used to work as a tourist guide in my holidays when we were living here.’
The bulbous domes were unlike the roof of any church Emma had seen before and there was no missing the eastern origins of the design. Among them were tall, slim bell towers that reminded her of Turkish minarets. Altogether it was an astonishing building and Emma wasted no time in taking a load of photos and adding it to her list. Professionally, what particularly appealed to her was the relative absence of tourists, in comparison to Pisa and Siena and even Bologna. Here, she felt sure, it would be fairly straightforward to find the space for the film crew to operate.
From there, Marina led them into the maze of cobbled streets of the centro storico. Emma was very happy to follow her lead, walking hand in hand with Mark. Here among the ancient buildings, there was a real romantic feel and, for once, she abandoned herself to it for a couple of hours and just enjoyed being with him, doing her best to keep her thoughts in the present, rather than the looming future.
Marina took them into the very centre and to two charming squares: the Piazza delle Erbe and the Piazza della Frutta, with the imposing medieval Palazzo della Ragione dividing one from another. This stunning building was composed of row upon row of arches and capped by a long, curved roof like an airship hangar. Dotted around the flag-stoned squares were stalls selling local produce and beneath the porticoes were shops of all kinds. Sight of the shops reminded Emma she needed to buy a present for her parents. As she did so, she remembered Dexter.
‘Rich, have you ever seen Dexter’s poodle?’
He grinned. ‘Seen it? It even peed on my foot one time – damn thing. It’s on the small side. I suppose its head doesn’t even come up to my knee. Why do you ask?’
‘I want to buy him a present and I thought something for the dog might be a good idea.’
Marina turned back with interest. ‘If it’s a pet shop you’re looking for, there’s one just down one of these side streets if I remember right.’
A few minutes later, Emma found exactly what she wanted: a very smart doggie waterproof coat with an Italian flag on it. Although it didn’t rain too often in LA, she felt sure Dexter’s canine companion would cut a stylish dash when the rain did come. By this time Rich and Marina had also decided they needed to go off to buy presents and they all agreed to meet up in the historic Caffè Pedrocchi in a nearby square later on. Marina assured them this was the best-known cafe in Padua and a must for visitors, so Mark volunteered to go and bag a table while they did their shopping.
There was a market in the centre of the Piazza dell Frutta where Emma bought an old-fashioned moka coffee pot and some real Italian coffee for her mum and dad, and a handmade leather wallet for Elliot before making her way along to the cafe to meet the others.
She found Mark sitting at an outside table under the portico of the impressive neo-Gothic building and she took a number of photos of the cafe as she drew nearer. As the place where Emily and Robert were to get wind of the approaching war, it was suitably sombre with its imposing columns and elegant, formal interior with red velvet chairs and pristine white tablecloths. She could well imagine the scene in the movie where a uniformed postman would arrive bearing the two telegrams that would tear the lovers irrevocably apart. This reminder of their own forthcoming separation made Emma walk straight across to where Mark was sitting and throw her arms around him, kissing him with intensity, in spite of the looks of some of the other customers.
As he emerged from her embrace, Mark winked at her. ‘What was that about – absence making the heart grow fonder? It’s only been ten minutes. If we’d been separated for an hour I suppose you would have ravished me here on the table?’
She took a seat close beside him and grinned. ‘You bet your life. And imagine the treat in store for you if I’d been away for two hours or more.’
They sat in silence for a long time before she heard his voice, now no longer jocular.
‘I’m really going to miss you.’
‘And I’m going to miss you, too, Mark. Terribly.’
At that moment Rich and Marina reappeared and Emma once more bolted on her happy face.
* * *
After lunch they returned to the car and took it back to the rental company. From there, a taxi took them and their luggage out of the city and onto a minor road alongside a canal. The clouds had cleared and the sun was once more shining down on them. The land all around was as flat as a pancake and disappointingly built-up, with numerous small to medium-sized factories lining its banks. Marina informed them that this waterway was the Naviglio del Brenta that led all the way to Venice but, to Emma, it didn’t immediately look promising for the movie. That was, until they picked up their launch.
The boat was waiting for them just before the impressive and historic Villa Foscari. This imposing villa was set in its own extensive grounds and Emma immediately noted this as a very strong contender for inclusion in the
film. This mansion, Marina told them, was a genuine Palladian villa, dating back to the sixteenth century, and it was a magnificent piece of architecture with massive columns supporting the neo-classical façade. Once again, Emma could well imagine the pair of lovers passing by this way, maybe strolling through the grounds hand in hand, ever more conscious that this would be their last day together.
The launch was a Venetian water taxi made of highly-polished wood, its comfortable cabin fitted with leather-upholstered seats and with an open deck at the stern. The boatman cast off and they began to follow the ever-widening canal eastwards. The houses and factories alongside them gradually dwindled away until they found themselves running between wide marshy fields that the boatman informed them would flood at high tide. Here it was a lot wilder and they soon spotted ducks and geese on the water and cormorants perched on stumps, wings outstretched Dracula-style as they dried their feathers. Emma took more photos as this landscape was timeless and virtually deserted. Ideal for the movie.
As Rich and Mark were standing outside at the stern, Marina came over to sit beside Emma in the cabin.
‘Not long now.’
‘Until we get to the hotel?’
‘Until it’s all over. Then what’re you going to do, Emma? I’ve seen you and Mark together. I think you’re made for each other. Are you really going back to the US while he stays here?’
Emma took a couple of deep breaths before replying. ‘I have to, Marina. It’s my job.’
She saw Marina nod her head slowly. ‘It’s tough, isn’t it? I’ve got a job I love, too. But at least I know I’m going to be with Rich again in only six or seven weeks. What about you and Mark? Do you plan on coming back to Italy to see him?’
Emma did her best to sound as positive as she could, although internally she was feeling anything but upbeat. ‘I’m not sure when, but I know I’ll see him again before long. Maybe in the autumn? I don’t know.’
‘And is that how it’s going to be? A long-distance affair that brings you together for a few weeks of the year and the rest of the time you’ll be apart?’
‘Seems like I don’t have a choice.’ Unless, she thought to herself for the hundredth time, she turned her back on her career and followed her heart as so many women had done in the past. But was that what she wanted? Her train of thought was interrupted as Rich’s voice called them to come outside and take a look at a beautifully restored canal boat chugging up towards them. As they both got to their feet, Marina caught hold of Emma’s hand and gave it a squeeze.
‘Remember what Erasmus said. It’ll work itself out.’
Chapter 24
They approached Venice from the west. Over to their left as they emerged from the canal was a sprawling industrial complex and docks with a massive cruise ship moored there but, ahead of them, the unmistakable sight of La Serenissima, the serene Republic of Venice, greeted them just as it would have done Emily and Robert. The launch headed straight towards a mass of red-brick buildings on the land directly ahead of them, cutting across one of the main shipping channels as they did so. A luxury yacht almost the size of a warship passed very close to them and they slipped into the mouth of a surprisingly narrow canal. This, the boatman told them, would lead to the Grand Canal.
On either side of them were ancient buildings, many that were probably warehouses, with massive tree trunks driven vertically into the seabed in front of them to act as mooring posts. Bright green barges carrying everything from piles of rubbish to crates of beer chugged past, performing the same tasks that vans and trucks would do in a normal city. Carving through them, the long, low vaporetto – waterbuses – carried passengers to and fro just like ordinary buses did on dry land. A police launch and a fire brigade boat came past and Emma realised that even cities built in the middle of a lagoon could catch fire or have bank robberies. Gradually, she started to come to terms with this city on the water. It truly was unique.
They passed under a number of modern-looking bridges before they found themselves approaching the railway station.
‘Is this where Emily and Robert say goodbye?’ Mark was at her side. Emma shook her head.
‘No, the big heart-breaking goodbye scene is on the quayside. He goes off in a launch like this.’ She hesitated. ‘Mind you, I suppose it only took him to the station and from here he would have caught a train to wherever he was going. That is, of course, if there already was a station here in 1914.’
‘A station, yes – just not this one. The line linking Venice with the mainland was completed, believe it or not, as early as the middle of the nineteenth century, but this station was built to replace the original one between the First and the Second World War, so it wouldn’t have been there at the time of your movie. So Rich’s dad’s idea of having the big farewell at the waterside makes sense.’
The launch passed underneath the beautiful wide-arched Ponte degli Scalzi and entered the Grand Canal. Gradually the more modern buildings around the station area gave way to ancient palazzi with arched windows and ornate render on the walls. Some were white, many a sun-bleached pink and others different shades of ochre from bright orange to palest cream. The mooring posts were no longer bare wood. Many were painted in colourful stripes and whirls and for the first time they began to see the iconic gondolas. Narrow alleys and equally narrow canals led off on both sides and many of the grander houses had their own moorings and entrances directly off the Grand Canal itself. Emma breathed it in and just knew that the finale of the movie had to be set here.
‘Do you intend putting Emily and Robert on a gondola?’ Mark had been watching the seemingly effortless skill of a gondolier in his stripy jumper as he sculled a gondola out of one narrow canal and across the main channel before disappearing into an even narrower canal on the opposite side of the Grand Canal.
Emma nodded. ‘I hope so, but on quiet backwaters, I would think. It’ll depend on Erasmus, but it would be a shame to bring them to Venice and not let them go in a gondola. Have you ever been in one?’
‘I’m afraid so.’
‘Why “afraid”?’
‘You’d think it would be a lovely romantic way to travel, but all it did for me was to make me feel like a goldfish in a bowl. Everywhere you go, you get your photograph taken and I certainly didn’t find it conducive to romance.’
‘So you’re not going to take me on a romantic moonlit tour of the city in a gondola?’ She was kidding, but she enjoyed teasing him.
‘My darling girl, if you want a ride in a gondola, I’ll grit my teeth and come with you, but I’d feel happier wearing Ethan’s wig and shades if I did.’
Emma rather liked the sound of being his ‘darling girl’ so she relented. ‘It’s all right, I won’t force you. We haven’t got much time anyway.’ That, she knew, was all too true.
From time to time they passed old churches, glamorous hotels or ostentatious palazzi. Everywhere they looked there were window boxes brimming with colourful flowers and even a few canal-side gardens boasting palm trees. Many of the buildings had roof gardens overlooking the canal and Emma definitely liked the look of those. She could imagine Emily and Robert, or maybe Mark and herself, standing up there looking out over the fading grandeur of this marvellous city. Remembering what Rich had suggested in Siena, maybe a scene shot at rooftop level might be the best way of avoiding the crowds of twenty-first century tourists.
The further along the Grand Canal they travelled, the more splendid the buildings became. The boatman pointed out magnificent palazzi like the Venice Casino, the Cà d’Oro gallery and the Foscari family’s Venetian palace as the canal took a right-hand curve and they were confronted with the famous Rialto Bridge. This stunning marble-faced bridge with its covered porticoes was packed with tourists and Emma began to realise that almost everywhere else that wasn’t water was similarly crowded. Venice was very definitely full to bursting. Managing to get space for a film crew was going to be near impossible – unless they went up onto the roofs.
The cana
l continued to wind its tortuous way through the city until the broad expanse of the lagoon was once more visible in the distance. As they finally emerged into open water, the buildings on their left suddenly gave way and they had a clear view of St Mark’s Square, the Palazzo Ducale, St Mark’s Basilica and the famous red-brick bell tower, rising high into the sky. It was an impressive and beautiful sight and Emma was delighted when Marina told them their hotel was barely a hundred yards or so from here. Emma resolved to come back on foot and take a closer look – in spite of the mass of humanity already doing just that.
* * *
Their hotel was exquisite. Marina told them it had been built in the fourteenth century and the interior was like something out of the Arabian Nights – a symphony of marble, fine art and unashamed luxury. She immediately recognised it from a Hollywood movie starring Johnny Depp and Angelina Jolie and wondered if JMGP would use it for Dreaming of Italy. Whether they did or didn’t, as the place where she and Mark would spent their last night together, it was unparalleled, and Emma could feel a wonderful sense of anticipation growing inside her, even though she knew it would only be short-lived.
As far as the whole ‘better to have loved and lost’ thing was concerned, she would now at least be able to say she had loved. And in a place like this with a man like Mark, she knew it would be unforgettable.
In spite of the wonders of Venice just outside the door, Emma had no hesitation in spending the remainder of the afternoon in bed with Mark. Marina had somehow managed to find them two rooms with a communicating door linking them together and when she saw him come through the door, with just a towel around his waist, she thought she would explode with joy.
The rooms were at the front of the hotel and looked straight out onto the lagoon. She made them cups of tea which they drank sitting up in bed looking out over the grey-green water, criss-crossed by the wakes of boats of all sizes. The hotel had also supplied some gorgeous chocolate biscuits and she happily nibbled one as she leant against his shoulder. If it hadn’t been for their imminent separation, it would have been heaven. His mind must have been working along similar lines.