Julia took a risk.
‘I think you’re wrong,’ she said. ‘If Mamma bought that lovely pink dress for you, then she’d want you to wear it, for her sake.’
‘But she won’t be there.’
‘No, but you can think about her, and you’ll know that you’re doing it for her.’
‘But that won’t bring her back, will it?’
‘It’ll bring her back in your heart, which is where it really matters.’
Rosa didn’t answer this, but she shook her head stubbornly. The impish confidence was gone, replaced by a stark misery that was all the worse because she felt that nobody really understood.
‘Let’s go back,’ Julia said gently. ‘Vincenzo will be worrying about us.’
The sun had gone from the day and a dreary rain had begun to fall. They found Vincenzo at the door, looking for them.
‘What is it?’ he asked as soon as he saw Rosa’s face.
In a quiet voice Julia explained. Instantly Vincenzo put his hands on the little girl’s shoulders, searching her face tenderly.
‘Hey there, piccina,’ he said. ‘Have you been crying?’
She shook her head. ‘I just remembered what you said—about how everyone leaves you.’
‘What?’ he said, aghast. ‘Rosa, I never said that.’
‘Yes, you did. You said it to someone at Mamma and Papà’s funeral. I overheard.’
‘But I—’ Vincenzo checked. What use was it to say that he hadn’t known she was listening? ‘Cara, I was feeling terrible, and that’s the sort of thing people say when—when—I didn’t mean it.’
‘Yes, you did,’ she said quietly, looking him straight in the eye. ‘And it’s true. People leave you even when you plead and plead with them not to.’
Her voice faded. She was staring into the distance.
‘Darling—’ Julia put a hand on the child’s shoulder, but Rosa didn’t seem to notice. She was lost in an unhappy dream.
‘Even if it’s the most important thing in the whole world,’ she said, ‘and you’re trying to make them understand and begging and begging them not to go—they still go—and they don’t come back.’
Suddenly she looked straight at Julia, who drew in her breath. Did she imagine that those childish eyes contained a hint of accusation?
Then the moment was gone, and Rosa was looking bewildered.
‘I think we should go straight up into the warm,’ Julia said.
Upstairs they thawed out with the help of hot drinks sent up from the restaurant. Rosa began to seem more cheerful.
‘Do you live here alone?’
‘That’s right.’
‘Can I come and visit you?’
‘Whenever you like.’ She noticed Rosa’s eyes closing. ‘We walked a long way today. Why don’t you take a nap?’
She tucked the child up in her own bed, where she fell asleep almost at once. Julia sat beside her for a while, free at last to watch over her with loving possessiveness.
You’re mine, she thought. If only I could tell you.
Terry Dale called her a week later. Things were moving fast.
‘The sooner you can get over here to sign the papers, the sooner you’ll have the money,’ he said.
‘Fine, I’ll be right there.’
‘What about Rosa?’ Vincenzo asked when she told him. ‘Have you thought that your going away might worry her?’
‘Yes, and I’ve got a plan. If I’m quick she need not even know I’ve gone. She’s back at school now, and you said she has a good friend who often invites her for sleepovers. If you can get her invited for a couple of nights I can be there and back before she knows it.’
A few days later he told her the plan was in progress.
‘She’ll go home from school with Tanya tomorrow,’ he said, ‘and stay for two nights. Can you be back by then?’
‘I’ll manage it.’
‘I’ve promised her you’ll have dinner with us tonight.’
It was a good evening spent eating, laughing and watching television. The shadow had gone from Rosa’s manner and she seemed free from the ghost that had briefly haunted her.
Julia promised to come to dinner again when Rosa returned from her visit, and the child went to bed, content.
‘And what about me?’ Vincenzo asked as he walked home with her. ‘Do you promise me that you’ll come back?’
‘Don’t be silly. You know I’m coming back.’
‘Sure, you’ll return for Rosa’s sake. You heard what she said. Everyone leaves you in the end.’
‘But that’s what you believe,’ she reminded him.
‘Only because I’ve been proved right so often.’
‘Trust me,’ she said, echoing the words that he had said to her so many times.
‘Shall I take you to the airport tomorrow?’ Vincenzo asked.
‘No, thank you. I have something else to do first.’
She refused to tell him any more. Next day she left, heading, not for the airport, but for San Michele. Before boarding the boat she bought flowers.
In the cemetery she went first to Piero’s grave, and used half of the flowers to refill his urn.
Then she went to find Bianca. Pushing the steps into place, she climbed up, removed the wilting flowers from the urn, and replaced them with fresh ones. For a long time she looked at the sweet face of the woman her daughter called Mamma. Then she touched it gently.
‘I just wanted to say thank you,’ she said.
Julia’s trip went well. She signed papers and received a cheque for the first part of her compensation, the rest to follow soon.
There were more questions about her husband, but she smiled and played dumb, and in the end her inquisitors gave up.
On the day of her return to Venice she was at the airport long before she needed to be, only to find it shrouded in fog. Passengers were allowed to board, pending an improvement in the weather, but it did not happen and they were requested to leave the aircraft.
Two hours later she called Vincenzo on her cell phone.
‘I’m going to be late for dinner tonight,’ she said. ‘There’s a thick fog and the planes are grounded.’
‘There’s no fog at this end,’ he said, frowning.
‘Well, it’s a pea-souper over here.’
‘How do I explain to Rosa? She doesn’t know you’re in England.’
‘Make some excuse. Say I’m not well. Say anything—’
There was a whistling sound in her ear as the line went dead. The phone needed a top-up. While she was looking around for somewhere to do it a voice came over the tannoy.
‘Will passengers for Venice please start boarding—?’
‘Thank goodness,’ she breathed. ‘Oh, why did this have to happen?’
Vincenzo turned to see Rosa watching him, very pale.
‘She’s not coming, is she?’
‘Cara—’
‘I heard you say she was in England. She’s gone right away and she’s not coming home.’
‘Yes, she is coming home, but her plane’s been delayed by fog. She’ll be here as soon as she can.’
‘You didn’t say she was going away to England.’
The sight of her rigid face shocked him. This wasn’t simply childish disappointment. She was reliving an old nightmare.
He dropped down so that their eyes were on a level, trying desperately to find a way past her defences. It was like trying to communicate with someone behind bars.
He was assailed by a feeling of danger. If he couldn’t reach her, and get her to reach out to him, she might be behind those bars for ever.
‘Julia only went for a couple of days, to get things sorted out in England so that she can come here for good. We didn’t tell you in case you were upset, and she’s coming home quickly.’
Rosa shook her head. Her eyes were blank.
‘No, she isn’t,’ she said.
He could have wept. If the child had been upset he’d have managed to cope, but her ca
lm acceptance was ominous.
‘You’d better talk to her yourself,’ he said, hoping the noise he’d heard on Julia’s phone didn’t mean what he feared. But when he dialled he heard the same noise again and ground his teeth.
‘She needs to top it up,’ he said in despair.
‘Perhaps she won’t bother,’ Rosa said.
‘Of course she will. Why wouldn’t she?’
She didn’t reply, but her eyes revealed what she really believed: that Julia had blanked them out, and it was convenient for her phone not to work.
‘She’s probably boarding the plane right now,’ he insisted. ‘That’s why she can’t do anything about her phone. We’ll hear from her when she lands.’
There was a touch of pity in the little girl’s eyes. Why couldn’t he face facts?
‘Can we have dinner?’ she asked. ‘I’m hungry.’
‘She’ll be here,’ he said, despairing.
‘It’s all right, Uncle. Honestly. You were right. People always leave you.’
‘Cara, I wish you’d forget I ever said that.’
‘But it’s true.’ Then, in a strange voice, she said, ‘I begged her not to go—but she did—and she never came back.’
It was as though a phantom had flitted past, chilling the air for a moment before it vanished.
‘Who are you talking about?’ he asked, barely able to speak.
‘Let’s have something to eat,’ she repeated.
‘Rosa, who were you—?’
But it was useless. The phantom had gone. He let the subject drop, fearful of doing damage if he persisted.
For the rest of that evening she behaved normally, even cheerfully. You had to know the truth, he thought, to recognise the storm she was suppressing. Nor could he help her, because she wouldn’t let him.
He kept hoping that Julia would find a way to call them soon. But the evening passed with no word from her, and at last it was time to go to bed.
He was awoken in the morning by Gemma, shaking him urgently.
‘I can’t find Rosa,’ she said.
He threw on his clothes and checked every room in the apartment, but it was a formality. In his heart he knew where she had gone.
‘Has the phone rung?’
Gemma shook her head.
‘All right, I’ll be back soon.’
He called for a water taxi and reached the nearest landing stage just as it arrived.
‘The airport, as fast as you can,’ he said tersely.
He entered the terminal at a run and kept on running until he saw Rosa sitting, watching the arrival doors with terrible intensity.
She glanced at him as he sat beside her, and something in her face silenced all words of reproach.
‘How long have you been here?’ he asked quietly.
‘A couple of hours.’
He looked up at the board. It showed two planes landed from England, but he didn’t know if either of them was Julia’s.
‘She’ll be here,’ he said. ‘She promised.’
There was no reply, but he felt a small hand creep into his and grip it so tightly that he winced with pain.
The doors slid open. Passengers were beginning to stream out. Rosa’s gaze became fixed again, as if her whole life depended on this moment. Vincenzo too watched, trying to distinguish one figure from the many others.
But it was Rosa who saw her. Leaping up with a sudden shriek, she began to run.
‘Mummy—Mummy—Mummy!’
Heads turned as the child darted through the crowd to throw herself into a pair of open arms. With a heart overflowing with relief, Vincenzo followed her until he was a few feet away from Julia, and was in time to see Rosa draw back to look her radiantly in the face and say, ‘You came back.’
Chapter Twelve
‘YOU came back.’
‘Yes, darling. I always meant to, it was just the fog.’
But Rosa shook her head, impatient that Julia hadn’t understood.
‘You didn’t come back before,’ she said.
Then the first inkling of the truth came to Julia and her startled eyes met Vincenzo’s.
‘Before?’ she asked cautiously, hardly daring to hope.
‘You went away before,’ Rosa cried, ‘and you never came back.’
Julia dropped to her knees, holding onto Rosa and searching her face.
‘Do you remember that?’ she whispered.
Rosa nodded. ‘You gave me Danny, and then you went away. And I cried. I didn’t want you to go, but you went.’
‘Do you know—who I am?’
‘I—think so,’ Rosa said slowly. ‘I think—you’re Mummy.’
‘Yes, darling. Yes, I am—I am, I am—’
She buried her face against Rosa and wept tears of joy, feeling them sweep away all the other tears she had cried through so many bitter, anguished nights.
‘But I don’t understand—’ Rosa said.
‘I know, piccina—this is your mummy,’ Vincenzo said. ‘There’ll be time to understand later. Let’s all go home.’
He took charge of Julia’s trolley, and wheeled it out of the airport, glancing over his shoulder to see where they were following, walking slowly because they were hugging each other at the same time.
He helped the boatman with the suitcases, noticing that Julia had managed to acquire several new ones, and that they were heavy. By the time they caught up, everything was ready for departure.
He sat in the front, leaving them together in the back, just sitting, holding hands, not speaking through the roar of the engine, simply content in their discovery. As they sped across the water he wondered where the future led. He had only to glance at the faces of the mother and child in the back to know that each of them had all they wanted.
At last the boat came to a halt in the Fondamenta Soranzo.
‘You need to be here tonight,’ he said in answer to Julia’s look of surprise.
While waiting for Julia’s arrival he’d already called Gemma to say that Rosa was safe, so they arrived to find the apartment empty, Gemma having taken Carlo shopping.
Vincenzo assigned himself the role of cook and waiter, plying them with breakfast while they looked at each other in their new light.
‘Why did you go away?’ Rosa asked sadly. ‘You left me, and you never wrote or sent cards, and Papà said you were dead—’ Her voice shook.
Until this moment Julia had never quite decided how much she would tell Rosa when the time came. To speak of prison and her father’s betrayal seemed terrible. But now she saw that the child was carrying a burden that crushed her, the belief that her mother had callously abandoned her.
‘I had no choice, darling,’ she said softly. ‘They put me in prison for something I didn’t do, and then your father took you away. I didn’t know where you were, but I never stopped loving you, and as soon as I could I came looking for you.’
She knew she’d judged right when she saw the load lift from Rosa’s face. Her mother had not, after all, walked away from her. Nothing really mattered beside that.
Rosa noticed Vincenzo carrying Julia’s things upstairs.
‘Are you coming to live with us now?’ she asked, thrilled.
‘I’ll be here tonight, and we can talk all we want. After that—’
After that—what? She sought Vincenzo’s face for some sign of what he was feeling, but his features revealed nothing.
‘You can have my room,’ he said.
‘That’s very kind of you, but you—’
‘I’ll be fine.’ He almost snapped out the words. ‘It’s time I was getting to work. I’ve neglected it a bit recently.’
‘I’m sorry about what I did,’ Rosa told him. ‘I mean, running off. But you see—’
‘Yes, I do see,’ he said, ruffling her hair. ‘But we were very worried about you. I’m so glad you’re safe. Now I must go.’
They didn’t see him for the rest of the day. For Julia it was a happy time, spent with her daughter, exchangin
g memories, feeling the bonds assert themselves.
‘I always knew there was something about you,’ Rosa confided. ‘I didn’t know what, but I knew you weren’t just anyone.’
Vincenzo telephoned to say that he’d contacted Rosa’s school and arranged for her to have a few days off for them to be together. But he hung up before Julia could thank him.
Late that night she waited up for him to return. There were so many things that she wanted to say to him too, if only he would be here. She resisted the thought that there was something ominous in his choosing to be absent.
As the hours passed she went to bed and lay awake, listening, longing for him. Now her heart reached out to him as never before as she understood the full extent of his generosity. He’d known from the start that he would lose Rosa as he had lost almost everything else. But he had put no barriers between them. On the contrary he’d done all he could to help the two of them rediscover each other, whatever the cost to himself.
She wanted to see him, hold him, and pour out her feelings now that the road was clear for them at last.
Eventually she heard the front door, then his footsteps. Throwing on a dressing gown, she went out to see him, and found him making up the sofa.
‘You can’t sleep there,’ she said aghast. ‘It isn’t long enough for you.’
‘It’ll do for tonight.’
‘But tomorrow—’ Surely there was some way to say that his bed was big enough for two, if they squeezed in tightly. But why did it need saying?
‘I’ve made arrangements for tomorrow. There’s a tiny hotel just opposite. I’ve taken a room there.’
‘A hotel?’ she echoed, aghast.
‘It’s just on the other side of the canal. You can see it from here.’
‘But when will I see you?’
‘I’m not the one you need to see.’
‘What about all the things we need to talk about?’
‘Such as?’
There was no encouragement in his manner and so, instead of what she wanted to say, she blurted out, ‘Money.’
His face seemed to close against her. ‘Go ahead. Talk about money.’
‘Now I’ve got my compensation I can invest some money in our hotel. And I’ve got the name of an Italian firm that goes in for this sort of thing. My lawyer in England has some international connections and he says these people are very good, completely trustworthy. Here.’
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