Liberate Yourself (The Desires Unlocked Trilogy Part One) (39 page)

She bends down and picks it up, rips it open.

Hotel Danieli. Bar. 20.00
.

She chews her lip, smiling slightly to herself. Another secret tryst. At last she will get to keep Theo in her arms all night. It
has only been eight days since they were last together in their apartment, and yet it feels so much longer to her. She is glad she brought one of her great-grandmother’s silk evening dresses, rolled up in her case. She wants to look bewitching tonight.

There is a sudden jolt as the train screeches to a halt. They are not in a station but somewhere in the countryside, not far from Venice Mestre she reckons. She yawns, slips her feet out of her shoes and sits cross-legged on the seat. The door of the compartment slides open, and as she looks up, she feels the blood drain from her face. Standing in the doorway is the blond man from Marco’s party. It is irrational, and yet her fear takes over. She grabs her briefcase and jumps up from her seat. Without bothering to put her shoes back on, she pushes past him and runs down the corridor to the exit doors. She presses the open button, and since the train is stationary the door slides open. She steps down on to one of the metal steps and leans out of the train, holding on to the handrail. She looks up the track, and then twists around and looks the other way, but she can’t work out where they are. Even so, isn’t it better to get off the train and call Theo? She has no shoes on, but he can pick her up wherever she is.

She is just about to jump off the train when she feels a hand on top of hers, prising her fingers off the handrail and gripping her around the wrist. She twists round to see her blond nemesis.

‘Hey!’ She tries to swing at him with her other arm and the
case, but she has hardly any balance at all.

He is holding her hand in his now, and if she lets go of him she will fall hard on to the track. She hears a whistle blow, and the train begins to move. She has to jump now, before it speeds up. She twists and turns, trying to break free, but he is gripping her around the wrist so firmly it is impossible. And now the train is going faster and faster, and she is frightened. It is too late to get off. What if he drops her? She could die. She grips the briefcase and swings her free arm in an effort to propel herself back into the train, but she doesn’t have the strength.

He drags her inside just before the door shuts automatically, and she slams into his chest, breathless with fear and anger. He lets go of her wrist and she pulls back from him.

‘What do you think you’re doing?’ she yells.

‘Saving your life, Valentina,’ he says, head on one side, looking amused.

She is not so sure about that.

‘Who the hell are you?’ she says, getting straight to the point.

The man leans back against the toilet door, crosses his arms. He is wearing a blue T-shirt that matches his eyes, and dark jeans. She notices the blond hairs on his pale arms, whiter than the hair on his head. He doesn’t look the least bit Italian and yet his accent is perfect.

‘I’m a colleague of Theo’s,’ he says. ‘Has he never told you about me?’

‘At the university?’ It is hard to believe this muscle-bound thug is some kind of academic.

‘No, no,’ he says. ‘An entrepreneurial colleague . . . Well, I suppose we are more competitors than colleagues.’

The man smiles at her. He runs his tongue over his teeth, which stick out ever so slightly, as if to suggest a kiss.

‘Why are you following me?’ she snaps.

He raises his eyebrows, and doesn’t answer her.

‘If you don’t stop following me, I’m going to call the police,’ she threatens him.

‘Go ahead,’ he says lightly. ‘Although I don’t think your boyfriend will thank you for it.’

Valentina takes a breath. Is this man a policeman as well? But he knows Theo. He said they were colleagues . . . or competitors.

‘Who
are
you?’ she asks again.

‘I really don’t think that is important right now,’ he says. ‘I am sure Theo will fill you in when you see him again.’ He gives a short laugh. ‘He is not as clever as he thinks. I
knew
he didn’t have the painting. I guessed you had it all along.’ He taps her briefcase, and she feels herself tensing, digging her nails into the leather handle.

‘Is it in there, Valentina?’ he says. ‘Be a good girl now and give it to me, nice and quiet.’

The train shunts sideways, and they both lose their balance slightly. The blond man staggers backwards and slams against the toilet door, which opens, causing him to fall inside.
Valentina takes her chance. She turns and runs away from him, along the empty first-class corridor. She sees her compartment, darts inside and grabs her shoes and trilby hat before shooting off again and into second class. To her relief, the carriage is packed with tourists. She spies a spare seat by the window, surrounded by a group of young Americans with backpacks. That’s what she needs. Safety in numbers. She squeezes into the seat and sits back, gripping the bag, shoes and hat to her chest. The girl opposite her looks at her curiously and smiles at her.

To Valentina’s surprise, the blond man hasn’t followed her, but she knows he is there, lurking in first class, waiting to catch her once they get to Venice. She pulls her mobile phone out of her pocket to call Theo, but to her horror the battery is flat.

She is shivering with terror, yet she realises that it is not for herself but for her lover.

Oh Theo, what have you done
?

SANTOS HAS TOLD HER TO RETURN TO SIGNOR BRZEZINSKI’S
house. She cannot understand it. She hoped he might have some kind of plan. A way she could escape Venice and meet him somewhere. Or even that he might suggest she transform completely into Belle, although Signor Brzezinski would surely put a stop to that now she is pregnant. Yet Santos doesn’t know she is carrying his child.

She reads his note again.

Go home, my little blackbird. I promise you that after today, Signora Louise Brzezinska’s ordeal will be over
.

Could he not have given her a few more words? A promise that he will return? Yet Belle knows that Santos makes no oath he cannot keep, and he has promised her that her life as Signora Brzezinska will be over after today. What can he mean? He must be far away by now. He cannot return, for he will surely be thrown in jail if he does. And imprisonment for Santos is worse than death.

Belle does not know it yet, but there is something apocalyptic about this day. Although it is only eight hours since she left her husband’s house, his world has turned on its axis. For today is 29 October 1929. It is a day that will ruin many men.

Santos Devine predicted it, for although he lives like a gypsy he is not penniless and has often speculated on the New York stock exchange himself. He first noticed trouble months ago, problems with stocks and shares in the spring and whisperings from business forecasters that others chose to ignore. He could see it all about to happen, the great crash. And so he made it part of his revenge. He has never forgotten the bruised body of his lover, and he swore he would avenge her suffering. He would find a way of taking from Signor Brzezinski whatever would hurt him the most. His money.

In fact Signor Brzezinski’s accusations against Santos Devine were not completely unwarranted. He
had
stolen something from him, if under a legitimate guise. For the past three weeks Santos Devine has posed as an American stockbroker looking for an elite group of European businessmen to invest in the thriving American stock market and make their fortunes. The truth is, there was no such group. Just Signor Brzezinski. And Santos Devine – or as Signor Brzezinski knew him, Mr Frederick Harvey of Brooklyn, New York-persuaded that greedy man to invest
all
of his money in American stocks and shares.

Thus at the precise moment Belle and Pina are reluctantly making their way back home, trailing along the tiny alleyways
of Venice, tearful and forlorn, silent in dread, Signor Brzezinski is discovering the full extent of his ruin, thanks to the financial advice of said Frederick Harvey.

Does Signor Brzezinski have a heart? Once maybe. Yet consider the young man who watched his father, mother and sister bayoneted to death by invading Germans, while hiding under the staircase whimpering in fear. Either he died with his family that day, or he survived by hardening his heart to his shame and ensuring he was never weak again. And consider the young man in love with a woman, Magda Zielinska, who rejected him for the love of another. He had to have his revenge. And so he enslaved Magda’s husband to him through his debts. He hoped to buy her from him, yet his plan backfired. He did not expect his rival to give him his daughter rather than his wife. Alexsy Dudek was just as bad as he, and yet
she
loved him. Even after his death, Magda loved her husband still. It enflamed Signor Brzezinski with rage, so much so that he was determined to have her no matter what. That was why he brought Magda Dudek to Venice along with Louise. At his first opportunity he took her. Yet it was so unsatisfactory, such an anticlimax. Magda lay back without a fight and looked at him with dead eyes, whispering her husband’s name again and again.

Alexsy Alexsy Alexsy
.

He kept trying to wake her up. Make her want him as much as he desired her. She was like a drug that never eased his pain. Again and again he made love to her, and yet Magda
made no response to him, either in hatred or pleasure. In the end it became more satisfying to beat her daughter, force himself upon her, for at least she fought back, at least he got a reaction from her.

He told Louise that he had driven her mother mad. Yet now he sees clearly that it was not his fault. It was Magda’s own guilt that stripped her of her senses. She had let her husband sell their daughter to protect herself. She was worse than Alexsy Dudek. She deserved her exile. Signor Brzezinski offered her the whole world, and she thought herself too good for him.

Since he sent Magda away to that island asylum, all Signor Brzezinski has wanted is a child. To be a better man for. And even that has been denied him, for despite the fact that his wife, as sinful as her mother, is pregnant, the child is not his. He knows this child will become another reminder of his failing every day. So what tiny piece of heart Signor Brzezinski has left is torn in half on this day, just like his money as it crashes on the floor of the American stock exchange. Within an hour he is a pauper. He can no more face the mocking laughter of his hateful wife than the pity of his business associates. If he has no money, then he has no power, and therefore he is nothing. He may as well be dead.

Signor Brzezinski stands on his wife’s balcony. It seems fitting to end it here. He has no gun, but he has a large slab of Venetian brick, and some rope. He is glad for once that he cannot swim. He ties the brick around his foot, knotting the
rope again and again, and drags himself over to the edge of the parapet. He thinks to cross himself first, for maybe there is mercy after death.

The last thing Signor Brzezinski sees as he plunges feet first into the canal is a blackbird circling above his head. He thinks how loudly it sings for such a small creature. It is like a fanfare for his entrance into death. Ludwika will be happy, he thinks, that I am gone. And as his lungs fill with water, Signor Brzezinski’s heart finally heals, for his final thought is:
I am glad of that
.

HER HEART LIFTS AS SOON AS SHE EXITS SANTA LUCIA
train station. She has hidden herself amongst the pack of American tourists, who are only too happy to take her with them, after her offer of showing them a good hotel. They walk down the steps towards the canal and the landing stages for the vaporetti. She looks around her. She cannot see Theo anywhere, and yet she feels safer than she did on the train. Her disturbing encounter with the blond man and the feeling of despair it gave her begins to fade away as Venice starts to work its magic. She feels a mixture of joy and excitement well up inside her as she queues to buy her vaporetto ticket. Always this happens to her in Venice. This overwhelming sense of belonging, and something more, as if she has lived here before and been so very happy in this place. Everything is familiar to her. The elegant yet decaying palazzos, the milky green canal, the smell of its age-old saltiness, the tiny alleyways, the jewellike bridges, and this sense of togetherness with other people,
even if they are visitors just like her. Despite this city having been described as a floating museum, to Valentina it is anything but that. It helps her believe in another world beyond the physical, a place of spirit and passion.

In only a couple of hours, Valentina will see Theo again. Apart from finally finding out what is going on with the stolen painting, she is tingling with anticipation at the thought of their reunion in the Hotel Danieli. I will tell him that I can do it, she thinks. I will tell him I want to be his girlfriend.
I will tell him I love him
.

Valentina ushers her American companions on to Vaporetto 5.2 to Fondamenta Nuove. She is taking them to the hotel she and Theo stayed in last time they were here, on one of their erotic encounters before he moved in.

Locanda La Corte is tucked away down a tiny alley. Although it is so close to all the hustle and bustle of Venice, it feels like an oasis of calm in the middle of the city, with its intimate Venetian garden and the meditative lap of the canal backing on to it. Despite the chatter of her companions, who are a group of students from New York University taking in the sights of Europe, Valentina feels a sense of peace, a detachment as they walk across the square in front of the ornate marble façade of the hospital and the imposing gothic Santi Giovanni e Paolo. She feels as if she is another woman. Although she has only stayed in this hotel once, it is as if she knows her way by heart. Down the tiny Calle Bressana, the sunlight gradually squeezed out as she follows its path, to
come out by the hotel, a bridge and the quiet backwaters of the canal.

She helps the Americans get booked in, and then says her goodbyes. They entreat her to come out for dinner with them later, but she explains that she is meeting someone. They part on the landing as she unlocks her bedroom door, slipping inside with relief. Her room is furnished simply with a large double bed, and French windows opening above the canal, while another window looks out over the alleyway. Valentina kicks off her shoes and lies down on the bed. She glances at her watch. She has a couple of hours before meeting Theo. She wonders where the blond man is now. She was careful when they were getting on the vaporetto and was sure he didn’t follow her group on board. Surely he has no idea where she is now? Yet Venice is small. It is only a matter of time before he finds her.