Reuben gave a slight smile and she noticed the dimples in his cheeks. She wished she hadn’t because she couldn’t take her eyes off them after that.
‘Look, I’m sorry, but I have to go out,’ she said again.
‘Would it be possible for me to stay here and wait for Elena? I have a feeling that we’re going to keep missing each other otherwise, do you know what I mean?’
Rosanna looked at him. He still had an edge of suspicion hovering around him, and who could blame him? But what was she meant to do? What if Elena came back to the apartment with Mark in tow only to find she’d let Reuben in?
‘I’m not sure that’s a good idea.’
‘No? Why not?’
‘I think you’d be better waiting for her at the Danieli. In fact, she’s probably there now, wondering where you are.’
‘You think so?’
‘Yes,’ she said, trying to dispel the image of her walking hand in hand by the Rialto with Mark.
‘Look,’ Reuben began, ‘I don’t mean to be rude about your sister, but I think she’s doing her best to avoid me and I want to know why.’
Rosanna could see the pain in his eyes as he spoke. He looked as if he was speaking from the very centre of his being and she felt absolutely awful because she didn’t know what to say to him.
‘I’m sorry, but I really have to get ready to go out,’ she said.
He examined his boots again like a lost schoolboy and it made her heart bleed. Her bloody sister! What did she think she was playing at - leading these two wonderful men on? For a dangerous moment, Rosanna wanted to tell Reuben everything about Elena. It would be an emotional scene, of course: she’d wring her hands and curse her sister to the sky and Reuben would probably tear up a few of Sandro’s canvasses in his passion but then she’d comfort him and the tears would turn to kisses…
‘Rosanna? Are you okay?’
Blinking hard to dispel the fictional image that was floating, so beautifully, before her eyes, she looked at Reuben.
‘Look,’ she said, ‘why don’t you come inside whilst I get ready? I’ll make you some coffee.’
‘Thanks,’ he said softly, and followed her up the stairs.
Chapter 20
Mark wondered where they were going. They’d been on the go for twenty minutes and had walked over the Rialto Bridge and still hadn’t reached their destination. But he trusted Elena knew where they were heading. Anyway, he was enjoying a bit of sightseeing on the way. The late morning sunshine sparkled like thousands of stars caught in the water of the Grand Canal. He had his first glimpse of a gondola and almost wrenched his neck out of joint at the precarious angle the gondolier was standing at whilst moving at such a great pace. He wondered how much it would be to hire one. They certainly didn’t seem to be short of business, he thought, counting the number of couples out on the water, but he knew that they were outrageously expensive and that his wallet wasn’t that well-padded.
They walked by dozens of shops which all seemed to be selling the same things: brilliant masks, glass in colours that blinded the eyes, and ropes of beads which glowed in the sunshine. But they didn’t stop to shop.
‘I like your sister,’ he said as they left the shops behind and walked over yet another bridge in the bid to find a hotel he could afford.
‘Don’t start that again,’ Elena snapped.
Mark blinked. It was, he thought, an odd response for what was meant as a compliment.
‘What do you mean?’ He looked at her. Her dark eyes were cast down and her brow looked as if it had been ploughed by a very angry farmer. It wasn’t the sort of face you wanted to see on a bright spring morning in the middle of Venice.
She sighed. ‘Nothing. I meant nothing. It’s just that everyone likes Rosanna.’
‘Oh. Well, that’s good, isn’t it?’ he reasoned.
‘Of course,’ she said.
Mark couldn’t think how his comment could have upset her. ‘You are strange,’ he said with a half-laugh.
She turned and glared at him. ‘How?’
‘The things you say sometimes. The way you look.’
‘How do I look?’
They stared at one another. ‘Confused.’
Bang on cue, she gave him her best confused look yet. ‘That’s stupid! How do I look confused?’
‘You just do,’ he smiled.
She tutted and walked on.
‘Elena?’
‘What?’
‘What’s the matter?’
She stopped and placed her hands on her hips and he knew he was in trouble. It was a stance every man dreaded. ‘Nothing’s the matter! Why do you think something’s the matter?’
‘Because you’ve hardly said a word to me all morning. I came out here to talk to you and you’re doing a good job of preventing me.’ Mark swore her dark eyes turned even darker at that moment and, if he hadn’t been made of such stern stuff, he might very well have high-jacked the nearest gondola and fled there and then.
‘I didn’t ask you to come out here,’ she said.
He wasn’t at all surprised by her comment as he knew it would be flung at him sooner or later and he supposed sooner was preferable as it would give him a chance to sort things out.
‘I know you didn’t.’
‘Well, stop blaming me for -’ she stopped in mid-sentence.
‘For what? For not being over-thrilled to see me?’
‘That’s not fair, Mark.’
‘Isn’t it? I’ve come a long way to see you, you know,’ he said. ‘I even got on a bloody plane. Do you know how terrified I am of planes?’
Her angry mouth opened into a circle of surprise and he instantly felt appalled at having made her feel so guilty.
‘You’re the only person in the world who could get me on a plane,’ he added, wishing he hadn’t mentioned it at all. He hadn’t meant to but she could be infuriating at times and he wanted her to see what he was willing to do for her.
She looked over her shoulder at a stretch of murky canal. Mark thought about crossing the brief space and placing his hand on top of hers as she rested it on bridge but he also wanted to see what she’d do and hear what she’d say but, just as he was sure she was about to say something, a group of school-children filed between them, their voices loud and echoey. He watched Elena through the spaces that they made as they jostled and pushed each other, and he slowly convinced himself that she was never going to speak to him again.
When silence filled the streets once more, he said, ‘You came out here for a reason, didn’t you?’
She turned back to face him again. ‘Of course I did. I told you. I came to see Rosanna.’
‘No, no,’ he shook his head, pleased that she was still speaking to him but annoyed that she still wasn’t being honest. ‘It’s more than that.’
There was a few moments’ silence as if they were both waiting for the other to speak first.
‘Why are you being like this?’ she asked at last.
‘Like what?’
‘Why do you keep asking me all these questions?’
‘Why are you being so secretive?’ he fired back.
A passer-by gave them an odd stare before walking on and leaving them facing each other across the bridge.
Mark scratched his head. ‘I don’t know what it is but I always get the feeling you’re hiding something from me. I don’t know how else to explain it. It’s like I’m only seeing a little part of you and that you’ve locked the rest of yourself away.’
‘I don’t know what you mean,’ Elena said. It was just the kind of bland, uninformative response he knew he’d get.
‘I sometimes get the feeling that you don’t love me enough. Is that what this trip is all about?’
Again, the silence between them was palpable but there was no taking the words back now. It was something he’d been dreading saying. He’d been holding it back and holding it back but the thought kept on surfacing and he had to have some kind of answer, even if it was an ans
wer he really didn’t want to hear. He loved Elena - more than he could possibly tell her - and he’d come out to Venice in an attempt to make sure that things worked between them but, ever since he’d arrived, he’d been dogged by doubts and threatened by fears.
‘You asked me why I came out here,’ she began in a subdued voice, ‘but I think I should be asking you the same thing.’
‘And I’ve told you - I wanted to talk to you about all this.’
‘It looks like you came out here to break up with me. Well, it would have been cheaper if you’d waited for me to come home!’
‘NO!’ he yelled. ‘Elena!’ He could feel his whole face scrunching up in consternation. It was all getting out of hand and he felt he was making a real mess of everything. It wasn’t meant to have snowballed out of control like this. ‘I came out here to stop us from breaking up! The feelings I kept getting from you - I don’t know - I’m not explaining it very well - but we don’t ever talk at home. And I don’t see you much outside of work. I don’t even know what your flat looks like. I mean, what do you do when you’re not at the school? I want to know!’
He could feel his heart racing. All these words - all formed from these paranoid worries he had about his relationship with Elena - were pouring out in an uncontrollable torrent. What was wrong with him? Couldn’t he be a normal bloke and just make the most of what he’d been given? Why did he have to go and question everything? Things had been good between them. They had just as much chance as the next couple at making a go at things so why was he prodding and poking about?
‘I’m sorry,’ he said at last. ‘You’re right. I shouldn’t be asking you all this.’
Elena shook her head. ‘No,’ she said very quietly. ‘It’s okay. You’ve got every right.’
Mark looked at her closely, watching as she blinked slowly, not once looking up at him. ‘You’re not angry with me?’
‘No,’ she said. ‘In fact, I should have been honest with you from the start.’
Mark’s mouth felt dry in anticipation. He wasn’t quite sure what he was expecting her to say but it seemed an age before she spoke.
‘I don’t know how I feel,’ she said at last.
Mark frowned. It wasn’t exactly the sort of confession he’d expected. ‘What?’
‘You said you wanted me to be honest - that you felt I wasn’t being open with you. Well, now I am.’
Her eyes met his and he could feel himself burning up with shock.
‘God!’ It was all his brain could come up with. But what had he expected? He’d confronted her, demanding an honest answer and he’d got one, so surely he should have been pleased? Except he hadn’t really expected this reply.
Neither of them spoke for a couple of minutes. It was as if they were allowing their words time to settle before they examined them in any detail. To be honest, he was terrified of saying anything else. He could see they weren’t going to get much further with things today. Elena looked tired and on the verge of tears and he felt he’d be pushing her right out of his life if he tried to talk to her anymore.
‘Elena,’ he said softly, crossing the bridge to stand next to her. ‘I don’t want to leave things like this today but I think we both need a bit of time to think things over.’
She nodded and he stroked her hair and the soft skin behind her ear which he loved so much. She looked so sad and he desperately wanted to kiss her but he didn’t.
‘Can I come and see you tomorrow?’ he asked.
She nodded again. ‘Where are you going to stay?’
He shrugged. ‘Somewhere cheap. Not too far away from you.’
‘Okay. Come over in the evening.’
And that was it. There were no kisses or hand holding or hugs. She simply turned and walked away from him and, for the first time since losing Marmaduke, his cuddly toy cat, when he was five years old, Mark felt like crying in the street in front of everybody.
Chapter 21
Rosanna made Reuben a cup of coffee and went upstairs to get changed. He took the opportunity to poke around the great Sandro Constantini’s paintings and he was shocked to discover an alarming collection of nudes. Why hadn’t he noticed them before, he wondered? He’d only noticed the scenes of Venice.
Bending down for a closer look, he noticed that they were all of Rosanna and his eyes fell upon her dark nipples and the gentle curve of her belly.
He put the paintings back and walked over to the kitchen to try and distract himself. There was a rack of washed plates and cups which should have been distracting enough but he started to imagine Rosanna’s bare arms, elbow-deep in washing-up suds, her long fingers washing the plates with delicate ease.
‘Bugger!’
‘Are you all right, down there?’ an angelic voice floated down from upstairs.
‘Yes!’ he said, clearing his throat. He left the kitchen and went to sit down on the sofa, wracking his brains for topics to take his mind off the naked Rosanna in the paintings - the one who was getting dressed upstairs at this very moment.
Drains. His drains at home probably needed cleaning. Yes. He must get that sorted. Guttering. Probably full of pigeon crap. He must give Mike, the handyman, a ring about that. A new exhaust pipe for the car - he’d been putting that off for ages too. Council tax. Wasn’t he going to arrange direct debit for that?
It was working.
‘I’ll be down in a minute,’ Rosanna shouted.
Drains. Guttering. Exhaust pipe. Council tax. Just keep chanting those, he told himself. Do not, under any circumstances, think of Rosanna in the bedroom above, and how easy it would be for you to follow her upstairs.
‘Reuben?’
‘What?’ his neck almost snapped as he turned to see her standing beside him.
‘You okay? You’re a bit red.’
‘I’m fine,’ he said. ‘You were quick.’
‘I never waste any time,’ she said, fixing him with her large brown eyes. ‘Are you sure you’re okay?’
‘Yes,’ he said
‘I’ve got to go now,’ Rosanna said, checking her handbag for something and then flicking a lock of thick hair over her shoulder.
‘I don’t see why I can’t stay here and wait for Elena,’ he said, suddenly remembering the reason he was there.
‘I’m sorry,’ Rosanna said, ‘but it’s not possible.’
‘Why not?’ He didn’t like the tone of his voice; he sounded petulant, like a spoilt child, but he wanted to get to the bottom of this. Now, not only did he think Elena was hiding something but that her sister was in on it too.
‘I don’t make the rules here. This isn’t my apartment,’ Rosanna tried to explain.
Reuben looked across at her and he knew she was hiding something but, at the same time, her face was gentle, almost apologetic.
‘I’m sorry,’ he found himself saying. ‘I’m putting you in an awkward position. I don’t mean to. It’s just that all this is very frustrating. I come out all this way to apologise for something that I don’t even think I should be apologising for. I’m mistaken for someone called Mark, then packed off to an outrageously expensive hotel where I’m expected to wait until her ladyship calls for me. It’s not bloody good enough!’
‘I know!’ Rosanna agreed and, at once, he felt terrible about sharing his thoughts with her.
‘Look, I’ve really got to go now,’ Rosanna said, ‘but I’m glad you feel you can talk to me.’
Reuben raised his eyebrows in surprise. ‘Really?’
‘Of course I am. We’re almost family,’ she added. ‘We should be able to be honest and open with each other.’
‘Yes,’ he said, that one word, family, putting him firmly in his place.
They left the apartment and Rosanna told him to hold tight at the Danieli and that she’d be very surprised if Elena wasn’t there right at that very moment wondering where he was.
‘And, if she hasn’t tried to see you today, I’ll have very strong words with her tonight,’ she finished.
&
nbsp; Reuben watched her head off to her appointment, her shoes clicking on the pavement. She had a fantastic figure, he thought, as she disappeared round the corner and her burgundy dress had looked stunning.
Perhaps he should have told her that.
Chapter 22
Once Rosanna left the apartment, her feet picked up such a pace that they very nearly flew right out of her shoes. She looked down and admired them: beautiful rich burgundy strappy heels - not the sort for crossing great distances in but she so wanted to look nice. She’d met Irma Taccani before, of course, but she’d never had a summons to tea before, and she thought she should make an effort even if she wasn’t sure she was her son’s intended.
Rosanna wasn’t sure of anything anymore. She’d been in at least two minds about Corrado before Reuben had arrived and, now, she didn’t know what to think. She’d barely stopped thinking about Reuben since the moment she’d first seen him dressed in one of Sandro’s white towels. What was it about him? She was a rational woman; she didn’t fall in love at the drop of a hat - or even the drop of a towel for that matter. Yet there was something about him that she couldn’t shake from her mind even though she knew she had every reason not to be thinking about him. Or did she?
One of the reasons she thought she shouldn’t be thinking about Reuben was that she was with Corrado but she still had her doubts about him, and that was one of the reasons she’d agreed to go over to his mother’s today. The second reason was that Elena was engaged to Reuben. But she was also engaged to Mark so surely that put a new spin on things.
She groaned. Could she just wait around and see which man her sister picked and hoped it wasn’t the one that she had fallen for? And, even if Elena chose Mark, Rosanna had no real proof that Reuben felt anything for her, even if she had felt his eyes burning into her when he’d been in the apartment.
Doing her best to put Reuben out of her mind, - she turned right into the calle that led to Irma Taccani’s. The apartment was one of several overlooking one of the tiniest canals in Venice. Washing was strung across the canal, the brilliant colours reflected in the dim water, still as a painting. Like Sandro’s apartment, this one was tucked away in a quiet spot far from the reach of tourists. This was the Venice Rosanna loved but she wasn’t at all sure that she was going to love her time here this afternoon.
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