Unmasking Elena Montella (40 page)

‘
He’s not
dead
, is he?’ Stefano suddenly barked, startling Elena. She’d never even heard him raise his voice before let alone bellow like that.

‘
I - er - don’t think so!’

‘
And
you’re
not dead, are you?’

Her face creased in bewilderment. ‘No!’

‘
Then it
isn’t
too late,
is it?
’

Elena felt herself blushing. She didn’t know what to say to such an assertion. But he was right, wasn’t he? There was nothing stopping her except her own fear of being rejected and that was a lousy excuse for inaction.

‘
What are you waiting for?’ he asked, his white eyebrows almost leaping right out of his head with excitement.

What
was
she waiting for? What had made her come to
Viviana’s
? Surely she should have gone straight to the airport after finding out Mark had left. But there was something else: the mask.

‘
There’s just one more thing,’ she added. ‘Will the mask be okay leaving Venice? I mean, can I take it home?’

‘
Is that what you came to ask me? You’ve postponed telling your lover how you feel about him because of a silly mask?’ Stefano tutted and shook his head. ‘Of
course
you can take the mask home with you! Why shouldn’t you?’

‘
But will it work outside Venice?’

‘
Will you want it to?’

‘
I don’t know,’ Elena said.

‘
Then it probably won’t.’

‘
Oh.’

‘
Elena,’ he began, ‘you think about things too much.’

‘
Do I?’

‘
Yes!
Why else are you here? You keep on coming back here asking questions, questions, questions - you’re the English inquisition.’

‘
I’m sorry - I don’t mean to bother you-’

‘
I didn’t mean that! Of course you don’t bother me. I look forward to seeing you but it’s always a worry when I do because I know you have these questions and I’m never sure if I can answer them for you.’

Elena gave a hesitant smile. ‘I’m a bit of a wimp, aren’t I?’

‘
No, no!’ he said, shaking his head. ‘I think you just lack the confidence to be honest with yourself, that’s all. You have all the answers yourself but you’re reluctant to dig deep enough to find them.’

She’d never thought of it like that before. As ever, Stefano was able to part the fog that was blocking Elena’s vision.

‘
Does that make sense?’ he asked.

‘
Yes!’ Elena nodded. ‘You should have your own problem page. You’d make a terrific agony uncle.’

Stefano’s faced scrunched up like a prune. ‘I can’t think of anything worse!’

‘
But you’ve been so wonderful with your advice. I don’t know what I’d have done without you. And I don’t know what I’m going to do when I leave,’ she said sadly.

‘
You’ll be fine. Absolutely fine,’ he reassured her.

She smiled at him. ‘Thank you,’ she said and then she reached forward and hugged him.

‘
You’ll let me know how you get on, won’t you?’

She laughed. ‘Of course I will!’

A few moments later, when the hug looked as if it was about to become a contender for the
Guinness Book of Records
, Stefano spoke.

‘
Isn’t there somebody else you’d rather be hugging?’

Elena wiped a tear from her eye and nodded as she let go of Stefano.

‘
Then go home and hug!’ he said.

This made Elena smile. Maybe she did have a home after all. But there was only one way to find out for sure, and that was to leave Venice.

The plane was travelling at over five hundred miles per hour but it didn’t seem fast enough. Elena had calculated the arrival time at Gatwick and how long it would take her to get home from there. She should be back at her flat by late afternoon and could get a taxi to Mark’s. She hadn’t worked out what she would do once she got there. She was half-hoping that just being there would be enough and that things would sort themselves out but, in her heart of hearts, she knew there was more to it than that. She knew, this time, that she was going to have to be absolutely honest with Mark - about her past, her misdemeanours - everything. Only then could they stand a chance of sharing a future together.

She looked out of the window into the cotton-soft world of clouds. Venice seemed a whole world away now. She thought of her parting with Rosanna. After saying goodbye to Stefano, she’d returned to the apartment and told Rosanna she had to go home straight away.

‘
Well, don’t leave it so long before you visit next time,’ Rosanna had chided.

‘
I won’t. But don’t forget you can visit me too!’

There’d been a moment’s pause.

‘
Is Reuben staying out here?’ Elena asked.

Rosanna nodded, her expression hesitant. ‘Is that okay with you?’

‘
It’s fine. I’m pleased - really pleased for both of you.’

‘
Sandro’s actually going to let his apartment to us,’ Rosanna whispered.

Elena’s eyes widened. ‘Really? You’ll both be living here?’

‘
I can’t believe Sandro agreed to that but he’s off to America and didn’t want to sell up over here.’

‘
That’s great! Reuben will love it here.’

‘
I know.’

For a moment, the two sisters just looked at one another but there was no rivalry between them any more, just a deeper understanding of what made each other happy and the part each could play to make things work.

‘
You’re doing the right thing, Elena,’ Rosanna had said and they’d hugged. ‘Let me know how things go, won’t you?’

Elena nodded. She was feeling rather emotional with all the partings that the day was throwing at her and so made her own way to the Alilaguna. She hated protracted goodbyes. Rosanna had waved her off from the top of the stairs and, when Elena had slammed the heavy door behind her, she took a deep breath in anticipation of the journey ahead.

After travelling by vaporetto, plane and taxi, Elena reached home. Her hands were shaking as she delved into her handbag for her front door key and let herself in. Dumping her suitcase and bag, she ran to her phone, noticing that the answer machine was flashing. Had Mark called her?

She pressed play.
You have three messages
.

‘
Hello, Ms Montella, this is John Philips calling from Lloyds TSB. If you could give me a call -’

Elena winced, thinking that all three messages were probably from him as she was overdrawn on her account again.

‘
Elena? Is this thing on?’

Elena groaned as the second message played. It was her mama.

‘
I hate these machines. Am I speaking loudly enough?’ her mama bellowed. ‘Give me a call to let me know you got home safely. For all I know you might have been kidnapped by the Mafia in Naples.’

Elena rolled her eyes. She should have called her mama from Venice but just hadn’t had the chance.

‘
I worry about you girls, you know,’ her mama continued. If she carried on much longer, there wouldn’t be any tape left for message three. ‘I want you to promise me you’ll keep in touch from now on and let me know what you’re doing? Okay?’

‘
Okay!
’ Elena yelled back.

‘
Good!’ her mama said, as if she’d really heard her daughter.

Elena sighed in relief as her mama finally hung up. There was one more message.

‘
Elena? Are you there?’

It was Mark’s voice, and it sounded so sad that Elena immediately wanted to burst into tears.

‘
I wanted you to know that I’ve handed my notice in at the college so there won’t be any awkwardness next term.’

Elena’s eyes pricked with tears as she heard Mark sigh.

‘
It was the only thing to do, really,’ he said, his voice quiet and subdued. ‘But I wish you well. Bye.’

Elena quickly pressed the rewind button and listened to his message again in case she’d been mistaken.

‘
But I wish you well. Bye.’

That was all: the sum product of their time together had resulted in nothing more than a cold and colourless farewell. Elena wanted to cry out loud and stamp her feet in tantrum but, instead, she grabbed her handbag from where she’d dumped it only seconds before and left her flat, hailing the first taxi she saw. Normally, Elena wouldn’t pay taxi fares - not on her college salary - but this was no time to be hanging around in the vain hope of a tube or a bus turning up. She had to speak to Mark -
subito
- as the Italians would say.

Mark’s flat was three miles away and the taxi driver assured her that he
was
taking the fastest route there.

‘
It’s left here!’

‘
I
know!
’ the taxi driver said.

‘
Then first-’

‘
Right -
yes!
That’s the way I’m going.’

Elena bit her lip, worrying in case Mark had left his flat as well as his job. But he wouldn’t do that, would he? He wouldn’t cut off all communication between them.

‘
It’s this house at the end of the street.’

The driver just nodded this time and pulled over. Elena threw some money at him and jumped out of the car, dashing across the pavement and pressing the flat’s buzzer.

She waited. There was no answer. She pressed it again. Still, there was no answer. She tried the communal door but it was locked so she pressed the buzzer for Mark’s neighbour.

‘
Yes?’ an elderly lady’s voice enquired.

‘
Mrs Chambers? It’s Elena - Mark’s fiancé. Could you let me in? I’ve left my keys at home.’ The truth was, Elena didn’t have any keys to Mark’s flat. It wasn’t that Mark hadn’t tried to give her a set: he had! It’s just that she hardly ever visited him and didn’t see the need.

‘
I’ll give you a call before I come round,’ she’d told him.

‘
But don’t you want to surprise me occasionally? Come round on the spur of the moment?’

Elena had been puzzled by that. With three fiancés, the idea of anything being spur of the moment could be disastrous. No, she had to live by a strict timetable and that meant being independent and only having her own set of keys to worry about.

Mrs Chambers pressed the magic button which released the door and Elena bounded up the stairs, two at a time, and knocked on Mark’s door.

‘
Mark? Are you there?’

There was no reply.

‘
It’s Elena. I need to talk to you.’

‘
I don’t think he’s in, dear,’ Mrs Chambers said, her head popping out from behind her door.

‘
Do you know where he is?’ Elena asked, hoping that she was a nosy neighbour and might be of some help.

‘
I’ve not seen him for ages,’ she said. ‘I thought I heard him late last night but he was in and out before I could ask him to fix my TV. It’s on the blink again.’

‘
So you don’t know where he’s gone?’

The old lady shook her head.

Where could he be? Elena wracked her brains. She had no idea where he could be and she felt appalled because it showed how little she knew him. She’d taken no time to get to know his hobbies or interests, or even whom his friends were.