Not Just a Convenient Marriage (5 page)

Pietro nodded, and it seemed she was right, for Toby greeted their return with yelps of joy, hurling himself at Pietro and then at Sally.

‘He likes you.’ Pietro laughed. ‘He’s saying that you’re one of us.’

‘Yes,’ Damiano said. ‘She is.’

But she could never be one of them, she thought wistfully. Soon this lovely time would be over, leaving her only with happy memories. But she would enjoy it while it lasted. Then she must return to reality, and the job on which her future hopes rested.

‘Can I ask a favour?’ she said to Damiano.

‘Anything.’

‘I need to send some emails from my laptop—’

‘No problem. I’ll connect you to my Internet.’

Suddenly there was a squeak of excitement from Pietro.

‘Uncle Mario!’

A young man had appeared in the hall, beaming as he opened his arms to the child who flung himself into them.

Damiano had mentioned a younger brother, and from their similar features Sally guessed this must be him. The two men embraced and exchanged greetings in Italian.

‘You’ll have to speak English for a while,’ Damiano said, bringing him to her. ‘We have an English guest. Sally, this is my brother, Mario. Mario, this is Signorina Sally Franklin. She’s Pietro’s new best friend.’ A
wuff
from below made him add, ‘And Toby’s.’

Mario chuckled and shook Sally’s hand vigorously. ‘I’m honoured,
signorina
.’ His eyes looked her up and down and his smile was full of appreciation.

‘How come you’re here so soon?’ Damiano asked.

‘The job ended a few days early,’ Mario said, speaking in a cautious way that showed he was choosing the words carefully. ‘So I seized the chance to dump myself on you.’

‘Get settled in and then we can talk.’

While Mario went upstairs Damiano explained, ‘He’s a journalist. He lives in Rome but he travels around a lot and his latest job brought him near here. So we planned for him to visit me. Nice to see him early. Now, let me have your laptop.’

He connected her quickly and skilfully, then vanished to give her privacy. She spent an hour in touch with England, but there was no sign of news about the job. After a while a delicious odour coming from the kitchen made her go down to investigate.

‘You must teach me how to make that,’ she told Nora.

‘And you must teach me some English recipes. Oh, dear!’

‘What is it?’

Nora pointed to a table where Sally could see a typed envelope.

‘Signor Ferrone was here a few minutes ago. He had that in his hand and must have forgotten it.’

‘Give it to me.’

Taking the letter, Sally crossed the hall and went down the short corridor to Damiano’s room, which the open door revealed to be empty. She entered and went to his desk, meaning to leave the envelope there.

Then something made her stop and stare.

Everything in this room spoke of reserve, calm, unemotional efficiency. Except for one thing.

There on the desk was a photograph of a woman whom Sally recognised from one of the pictures she’d seen in Pietro’s room. It was the same person but a different photograph. Pietro’s had been laughing and cheerful. This woman’s face was almost melancholy, but beautiful, tender. Somewhere deep in those large eyes was a hint of promise.

Damiano had married her for that promise, Sally thought. But she had been snatched from him before it could be more than partly fulfilled. She’d given him their child, then abandoned him to loneliness, There was no memento of his second wife. Only this picture, positioned so that the man sitting at the desk could see it whenever he happened to glance up.

‘Can I help you?’

Damiano’s voice from the door made her jump.

‘I’m sorry, I only came in to give you this.’ She waved the envelope. ‘I wasn’t trying to pry.’

He took the envelope and glanced at the photograph.

‘That’s Pietro’s mother,’ he said.

‘She was beautiful.’

‘Yes, she was. Before she married me she had ambitions to be a model in England. She never made it big but it was looking hopeful. Then she gave it up for me.’

There was a softening in his voice that she’d heard once before when he spoke of Pietro, the son he shared with this woman. His face too was altered, so much more gentle than before that he might have been another man. Or wearing another mask.

How sad, she thought, that Gina hadn’t survived to enjoy life with this man. He would have adored her, treated her with generosity and self-sacrifice. She would have been the luckiest woman in the world.

‘Poor Pietro,’ she said. ‘Never to have known her at all. And poor Gina, to have had such a wonderful son and not have known him.’

She heard a sound like the soft drawing of breath, and looked up to find Damiano gazing at her as though something had struck him.

‘Yes,’ he murmured. ‘Yes. You say it so perfectly. Her loss was as great as his.’

‘And yours. All those years of happy marriage you would have had, that were taken from you. But also taken from her. She had such a gorgeous little boy, and she’ll never know.’

‘She does know,’ Damiano said quietly. ‘I tell her all the time.’

‘You—?’

‘Thank you for bringing me the letter,’ he said, speaking with the fierce energy of a man determined to change the subject. ‘It was careless of me to leave it behind. Now, about plans for this evening—’

She went along with his suggestions, speaking mechanically while she tried to come to terms with what she’d just learned. Gina was so real to Damiano, so much still a part of his life, that he talked to her.

How lucky to have won the love of such a man, she thought. How unlucky to have been torn from him so soon.

‘So what do you think of that idea?’ Damiano asked.

‘I—what?’

‘We spend tonight in. I want to get Mario talking, to find out why he’s arrived early. What mischief has he been up to?’

‘You told me your brother often made you tear you hair out. Is he—?’

‘Yes, he’s the one. He’s a bit of a madcap, and it’s hard for me to blame him because he says he’s just following in my footsteps.’

‘I remember you saying you weren’t a saint when you were younger.’ She added lightly, ‘But then, what man is? And think how boring if you were!’

‘Ah! A woman of great understanding. Yes, Mario, what is it?’ His brother had appeared in the doorway.

‘Supper’s ready. Nora’s about to serve and I’m dying of hunger.’

‘Fine. Let’s go.’

Was she only imagining his relief at bringing this scene to an end? He had told her something she guessed he’d told few people. She sensed that one part of him wanted to confide in her, but another part backed off. And he was torn between the two.

She had to admit that she too was undecided whether she would have liked to remain here for a while, to see which side of him won. But that could never be. She would be gone soon, and the question would always tease her.

Mario’s arrival was a gain. Pietro liked his cheery uncle, and Charlie, perhaps sensing a fellow madman, was instantly at home with him. They were both ardent soccer followers, and spent most of the meal comparing English and Italian teams.

But when supper was over and everyone had settled in the next room, Mario contrived to take the seat beside her on the sofa, saying cheekily, ‘You don’t mind if I force myself on you, do you?’

‘I think I can just about bear it,’ she said.

‘Good, because I need you to tell me something. Why is my brother so suspicious of me? Just because I turned up a few days early, does he have to think the worst?’

‘Shouldn’t he?’

‘Well, I must admit I fouled up a little. I opened my big mouth once too often. But now I’m here, I’m glad. Otherwise we might not have met.’ His glance was admiring.

‘Yes, I’m glad we met, too,’ she said.

‘You are?’ he murmured hopefully.

‘You’re just the kind of friend Charlie needs.’

‘Ah, yes, Charlie. Nice lad.’

‘Why did you assume that Damiano disapproves of you?’

‘Because he always has. I suppose I can’t blame him. It’s part of being an older brother, and he’s made such a big success of his life that he expects the same of me. But he conducts his business hell for leather. Everything has to be the way he wants, and I can’t match that.’

‘Are hotels his only business?’

‘Hotels and other property. He inherited a small fortune from his mother and he turned it into a huge fortune very fast.’

‘By buying and selling property in Venice?’

‘And Rome, Florence, Milan. I can’t complain. The fact is we’re only half-brothers. We had the same father but different mothers. That’s why he inherited and I didn’t. But he was decent. He gave me a share. Then he invested it for me and I profited. I’m not rolling in it but I can afford to be stupid.’

‘Lucky you,’ she said, laughing. ‘That sounds like one of the definitions of happiness. To be stupid without having to fear the consequences.’

‘Right. You said it. Damiano’s a great guy, and I like his properties, especially the hotels.’

‘Yes, I’ve seen the Billioni. We were staying there.’

‘That’s one of his minor properties. The main one is the Palazzo Leonese next door.’

So he was an even more notable man than she’d suspected, Sally mused.

She became aware of a nose sniffing at her knee.

‘Toby’s come to say goodnight to you,’ Pietro said. ‘He’s hurt because you haven’t made a fuss of him tonight. That’s Uncle Mario’s fault.’

‘Well, I don’t want Toby to be hurt,’ she said, enfolding the dog in a hug. ‘I’m sorry, Toby. Can you forgive me?’

Wuff!

‘And tomorrow we’ll play games together.’

Wuff! Wuff!

‘And maybe I can play too,’ Mario said.

Wuff! Wuff! Wuff!

A spirit of mischief made her wag her finger at the dog and exclaim, ‘You mustn’t say things like that about Uncle Mario.’

‘It wouldn’t be the first time,’ Mario said. ‘Toby doesn’t approve of me.’

‘Does anybody?’ Damiano called ironically from the other side of the room.

They all laughed and Sally saw that Damiano was enjoying the scene. His smile spoke of pleasure, contentment, satisfaction. She met his eyes, and could almost have sworn that he nodded before glancing at Pietro and saying, ‘Bedtime.’

‘Papa!’

‘Bedtime.’

‘No argument,’ Sally teased. ‘You should always obey your papa without question, as I’m sure you do.’

‘That’ll be the day.’ Damiano grinned. ‘Off you go.’

Sally went upstairs with him to say goodnight. On returning she found Charlie and Mario deep in a ‘lads’ conversation. Clearly she wasn’t needed in that budding friendship. Right now she wanted to have another talk with Damiano. But once in the hall she could hear him talking on the phone in his office.

She suppressed an irrational feeling of disappointment that he’d forgotten her so soon. She was curious to know more about him, but if she couldn’t talk there was another way. She returned to her room, opened her laptop, went online to a research tool, and typed in Damiano Ferrone.

The photograph showed him standing with arms folded, glaring into the camera. The text described the man of property, determined, uncompromising.

There was a list of the places he owned, including the Palazzo Leonese. Logging into its website, she found that it really was a palace, having once belonged to a duke who’d fallen on hard times and been forced to sell it. Now it was a hotel of luxury and magnificence, with its own theatre, ballroom, and a great hall that was licensed for weddings. Every year the Leonese hosted an extensive list of carnival celebrations, including several masked balls.

The sound of laughter floating up from below made her look out of her window in time to see Charlie and Mario walking away along the alley.

Kindred spirits, she thought. At least Charlie will have a friend there to keep an eye on him. This could be a good place for both of us.

CHAPTER FIVE

S
ALLY
SOON
FOUND
that Mario was a practised flirt, handsome, charming, not lost for words, as his approach to her demonstrated.

‘How come I was lucky enough to meet you here?’ he asked as he seated himself next to her at breakfast.

‘Charlie and I had an accident and your brother was kind enough to invite us here for a few days.’

‘A few weeks, I hope,’ he said, regarding her significantly.

‘Sally is teaching me better English,’ Pietro said. ‘I know lots and lots of long words.’

‘I’ll bet you don’t know any,’ Mario teased.

At once Pietro pointed a finger at him, declaring, ‘You are
pestiferous
.’

Mario roared with laughter. ‘How on earth did you teach him that?’ he asked Sally.

‘Through Toby,’ she replied. ‘He was bouncing around all over me, so I called him pestiferous, but I think the short version might be better.’

‘Short version?’ Pietro asked instantly.

‘Pesky. It suits Toby.’ She pointed to where the dog was curled up under the table. ‘You are a pesky pup.’

‘But he’s not a pup,’ Pietro protested. ‘He’s ten years old.’

‘Only on the outside,’ Sally said. ‘Inside he’s as daft as he was when he was a baby. Some men are like that too.’

‘Pesky, pesky,’ Pietro yelled in delight. ‘Toby, you are pesky!’

‘So are you,’ Mario said, rubbing his ears. ‘Sally, I can see Pietro is going to learn a great deal from you.’

‘Yes, she’s got the soul of a school mistress.’ Charlie sighed theatrically. ‘You should hear how often she calls me a twerp.’

‘Twerp?’ Pietro echoed. ‘What’s that?’

‘It’s a word they won’t teach you at school,’ Mario said, grinning. ‘I’ve only heard it once before, and that was from a lady who was annoyed because I—yes, well, never mind.’

‘But what does it mean?’ Pietro demanded of Sally.

‘A twerp is someone who is not only foolish but insignificant,’ she said. ‘Is there an Italian word for insignificant?’

‘Insignificante,’
Damiano said, with a grin at his brother.

‘That’s right,’ Mario agreed. He raised his glass. ‘Here’s to pesky twerps.’

Raising her glass with the others, Sally caught Damiano’s eye. He was gazing right at her, and it seemed to her that he raised his glass higher in her direction, and mouthed, ‘Thank you.’

She smiled, saluting him back and mouthing, ‘My pleasure.’

After that the mood was merry. The talk turned to Carnival, due to start in a few days.

‘Then we have two weeks of fun,’ Mario said, ‘and it ends just before Lent.’

‘And Lent is when people are expected to be virtuous and restrained,’ Sally recalled.

‘Right. So people really let rip in Carnival, because it’ll be so long before they can let rip again.’

‘I want to go with Uncle Mario to buy some masks,’ Pietro said.

‘Ah, yes, you have so few, haven’t you?’ Damiano said.

‘I’ve worn them all before,’ Pietro protested. ‘I want to be somebody different, grown up. I’m tired of being just a kid.’

‘Why don’t you come with us?’ Mario asked Sally and Charlie. ‘You’ll have a great time.’

‘Sounds terrific,’ Charlie said. ‘Count me in.’

‘And me,’ Sally said at once.

‘Perhaps you should rest another day,’ Charlie said. ‘You don’t want to overdo it too soon.’

‘I’ll be fine,’ she assured him.

Her smile told Charlie that if he thought she was going to take her watchful eyes off him while he went on a spending spree, he was mistaken. He made a wry face, accepting the warning.

‘So, as soon as breakfast is over, off we go,’ Mario said teasingly.

‘Oh, no!’ Pietro protested. ‘I want to come too but I have to go to school.’

‘Then we can leave it until this afternoon,’ Sally said.

Everyone agreed and the meal finished cheerfully. When it was over Damiano followed her out into the hall.

‘You’re planning something, aren’t you?’ he said.

‘Me being such a conniving character, you mean? Well, I will admit I have a secret motive. I’ll collect Pietro from school this afternoon and—well, it’ll give me a chance to form an impression about what’s going on.’

‘Shouldn’t I be there?’

‘What do you think?’

‘I’m waiting for you to tell me what to think,’ he said wryly.

‘Thus encouraging me to be more of a bossy woman than I am already,’ she suggested.

He laid his hand over hers. ‘I’ll take that risk.’

‘Then don’t come to the school. I’ll tell you what I find and we’ll work towards the next step.’

‘Whatever you say,’ he replied with an air of submission that didn’t fool her for a moment.

‘But you could still come to the shop with us,’ she said.

‘I don’t think so. I have enough different selves without confusing the issue with more.’ He added in a low voice, ‘But I’ll be intrigued to see yours.’

‘I doubt if I’ll buy anything. I’m sure I’ll enjoy Carnival, but I don’t think I need to dress up for it.’

He shook his head. ‘You won’t stick to that, Sally. You won’t be able to, once you’ve seen the range of disguises and all the new personalities they offer you.’

‘We’ll have to wait and see who’s right,’ she said.

‘I’m always right,’ he declared. But his teasing eyes robbed the words of bullying.

‘So am I,’ she said.

‘Good for you. We obviously have a lot in common. I recall you telling me, the first evening, that you didn’t really know yourself. Sometimes you thought you did, but you were always wrong.’

‘Yes. I feel as though I’m a lot of different people. It’s something to do with being an actress.’

‘I thought you said you were an accountant.’

‘I am. The acting is amateur. Just a hobby. I prize it because it gives me freedom.’

‘The freedom to be someone else,’ he said slowly.

‘That’s right. It can be boring being the same person all the time.’

‘And how many people do you want to be?’

‘It changes. It’s as though there are two or three versions of me. The accountant has to be severe and sensible, but I have an inner self who secretly wants to go mad and behave wildly.’

‘Only secretly?’

‘Well, I must admit she gets an outing now and then. I feel as though I’m always wearing a mask. I’m so practical on the surface, but if people knew me inside they’d get a shock.’

‘Then you’ve come to the right place. Venice is a city of many masks. You must find the one that suits you. Or perhaps several that suit you.’

‘I suppose we wear different masks for different people,’ she mused.

‘And some please us better than others.’

Inspiration dawned. ‘And when we know which ones please us best, then we know who we really are.’

He nodded. ‘I was about to say exactly the same. How well we understand each other. Now I must say goodbye and get to work. Enjoy yourself.’

He went to his office, turning at the door to give her a smile. She answered it with another, and was about to go upstairs when she heard the sound of vigorous voices coming from the breakfast room. Returning, she found find Pietro and Mario deep in argument. Pietro was clutching Toby’s lead.

‘He wants a mask too,’ Pietro declared. ‘I promised him one. We could come home and collect him when school’s finished.’

‘You can’t bring him to the shop,’ Mario protested. ‘They won’t let him in. Not after what he did last time. Now give him to me and be off to school.’

Reluctantly Pietro departed.

‘I hate refusing him anything,’ Mario said. ‘I always feel so sorry for him after what Imelda did, running out on him. Do you know about her?’

‘She was Pietro’s stepmother? I know she abandoned him.’

‘She was a monster. In the end she took herself off with a man.’

‘She was unfaithful to Damiano?’

‘Oh, yes. And not just once.’

‘Did he know?’

‘Yes. I thought he’d throw her out and divorce her, but he didn’t, for Pietro’s sake. She was nice to Pietro to begin with because she knew that was the way to get close to Damiano. And it worked. He thought she was nice, and they ended up in bed. But don’t tell him I told you that.’

‘I promise.’

‘Next thing she said she was pregnant. She knew how to get him to marry her and it worked. But there was no baby. After the wedding she said she’d “made a mistake”. She’d got what she wanted by then and she thought that was enough.’

‘But she was wrong?’

Mario looked around to check that they were still alone. When he spoke it was in a low voice.

‘He’s only ever loved one woman, and that was Gina.’

‘But she’s been dead for years,’ Sally protested. ‘Surely—?’

‘Yes, you might think he’d move on to someone else, but he hasn’t. Somehow he just can’t. I asked him about it once. He’d been drinking or I wouldn’t have dared, but he was in a mood to talk. He said he could never love again because once you’d known perfection, nothing else could do. Next day he didn’t remember saying anything and I didn’t remind him.

‘Imelda played the mother for a while, trying to impress him. But she was always jealous of Gina. That became jealousy of Pietro because he’s Gina’s son. She was sharp with him, neglected him, and finally abandoned him. Damiano was so furious that instead of divorcing her he had the marriage annulled. It was like he wiped her out of existence. That’s how he deals with people who offend him. They shrink to nothing and end up wishing they’d never offended him.’

‘Yes,’ she murmured. ‘I can imagine.’

* * *

Midway through the afternoon Sally, Charlie and Mario set out on their expedition.

‘Pietro’s school isn’t far,’ Mario said. ‘Just a few alleys further. They should be coming out by now.’

Out of sight Sally crossed her fingers, hoping that all would be well with Pietro.

She knew her prayers had been answered when she saw him at the school gate, beaming and waving to her. A little distance away, a small crowd of boys was regarding him wryly, almost nervously.

‘That’s Renzo,’ he said, pointing to one in the front.

Renzo seemed about the same age as Pietro, with a lean, scowling face.

‘Why is he looking so cross?’ she asked.

‘Because I got the better of him,’ Pietro said happily.

‘How?’

‘I called him a pesky twerp. He didn’t know what it meant, but one of the others did, and they thought it was funny that he didn’t know. They started chanting it and it made him look silly.’

‘Well done,’ she said. ‘That’s the way to deal with bullies.’

As they left Pietro waved at the little crowd, most of whom waved back. Renzo didn’t, but nobody seemed so impressed by him now.

In a merry mood they all made their way along the narrow alleys until they reached the shop that offered dazzling masks and glittering costumes.

Sally had read that Carnival dated back to the twelfth century, when the Venetians fought back against an enemy who tried to conquer them. They were successful, and celebrated their triumph by dancing in St Mark’s Square. For the next few hundred years the festival grew until Venice was conquered by another opponent who outlawed Carnival and forbade the wearing of masks.

‘That’s one reason masks are so important,’ Mario told her. ‘Our conquerors were afraid of them because having our faces covered made it easy for us to fight back. If you can hide who you are you have great freedom to defend yourself.’

‘Freedom to be who you really are,’ she murmured.

‘If you know who you really are,’ Mario observed. ‘Maybe you use the freedom to make that discovery.’

‘And your enemies didn’t want you to know that,’ she said.

‘Right. In the end they resorted to banning Carnival entirely, and it stayed banned until it was restored nearly forty years ago. The cynics will say it was brought back to attract tourists, but there’s more to it than that. Carnival is our proof of liberty, our assertion that we are Venetians.’

Excited, she plunged into exploring the shop. Each mask seemed to offer her the chance to become a new personality, and their sheer number left her stunned.

‘I can’t get my head around this,’ she said. ‘How many masks can I buy?’

‘First you need a half-mask, to emphasise your beauty,’ he said.

She almost replied, ‘Beauty? What beauty?’ But she stayed silent and was glad when she saw what he’d chosen. It was a half-mask, covering only her eyes, nose and upper cheeks, leaving her mouth free. Flowers and feathers adorned the crown.

She regarded the vision in the mirror with wonder. Truly that was a beautiful woman looking back at her, but was it really herself?

She removed the mask reluctantly, and looked around the shop until she saw something that made her grow still.

‘Those white faces,’ she said. ‘So many, all exactly the same.’

He lifted one. It was a full face mask, completely white except for the closed mouth that was painted on. The only spaces were for the eyes.

‘A mask like this has two names,’ Mario explained. ‘One is
“volto”
which is Italian for “face”. The other is
“larva”,
which is Latin, and means “ghost”.’

‘Oh, yes, I can see why,’ she said, examining it in delight. ‘There’s no life in it. It could be a dead person.’

‘They’re popular because they give nothing away about whoever’s wearing them. And that can be useful if you don’t want to be recognised.’

He said the last words with a teasing significance that made her look up quickly.

‘Don’t want to—? Just what do you think I’m going to get up to?’

‘Much the same as everyone else gets up to. Don’t be offended.’

‘I’m not. But watch it, cheeky.’

‘Yes, ma’am.’

He grinned, regarding her with pleasure. When she put the beautiful half-mask back on her face he eyed her with frank admiration. But then an impulse made her remove it and put on the ghost mask. Just as the glamorous one gave her a new self, the ‘ghost’ concealed her entire self.

‘I’ll have them both,’ she said.

Charlie and Pietro were going through the shop excitedly. Pietro chose an extravagant mask with a huge nose. Charlie purchased two masks and two costumes. Sally paid for them, then indicated the door.