Venetian Masquerade (9 page)

Gabriel offered to take her back to the Lido in his boat afterwards, but she refused, preferring to go back alone on the
vaporetto
.

“I shall be quite safe,” she told him. “And anyway, it’s a while since I had a chance to practice my jujitsu skills. Just wait with me till the boat comes.”

“It’s been a wonderful evening, Amy. Thank you for dinner. I hope you can afford to eat for the rest of the week.”

She laughed. “Just about. Thank you, too, Gabriel, for a lovely evening. Even an encounter with you-know-who couldn’t spoil it.” She reached up and kissed him, and he gave her a hug as the boat arrived.

A few moments later, she was heading back to the Lido, alone with her thoughts, the image of Alessandro and his lovely companion etched in her memory.

Chapter Seven

A
cold wind was blowing the next morning, whipping up white horses on the lagoon. Amy had taken the children to school and, tired of the noise and mess at the villa, walked to the park with Snoopy. He was a lively little fellow, just getting the hang of fetching a ball, and she sat on a bench for a while, watching him hunt for his toy in some bushes, his tail wagging furiously.

It was then Alessandro walked through the park and wordlessly came to sit beside her. His hands were deep in the pockets of his coat, and he made no move to touch her.

“I knew you would find me.” Amy’s heart was hammering, and she felt sick.

“You have a son,” he stated finally.

“Yes.”

“Is he mine?”

“Yes.”

“Dear God, Amy, why didn’t you tell me?”

“I was afraid I might lose him. You family is quite capable of moving against me and taking him away.”

“Did you not think I had at least a right to know about him?”

“No.”

“Then what about his right to know about me?”

“I…I had to take a chance he would understand why I did what I did.”

“And does he?”

“No.”

“What are you saying?” he demanded.

“That he has begun to ask why he doesn’t have a papa.”

“Does that imply that you would let me meet him?”

Amy sat silently, staring at her hands, tightly fisted with anxiety.

“I don’t know what to say, Alessandro. Once he knows who you are, he will want to spend time with you, and I don’t think I could bear to have you in my life on a permanent basis. My life has moved on, and for the first time in years, I have a kind of happiness.”

“I know your life has moved on. I saw you last night with your…what…lover, fiancé?”

Amy didn’t enlighten him, nor did she turn her face to look at him, for he would have seen the longing, the burning, aching desire for him in her eyes. Just sitting beside Alessandro made breathing difficult, and talking even more so.

“All right,” he continued, “I accept that you have a new life, and I won’t try to take you from your new love, although I cannot imagine how you could have given yourself to me so passionately that day in London if you love someone else. So we must deal with the situation with…what’s his name? I don’t even know my son’s name.”

“James,” she whispered.

“James… We must discuss the situation with James dispassionately and decide what is best for him. Do you agree?”

“I suppose so. But you must promise me on everything you hold holy that you will never try to take him away.”

“Amy, what do you take me for?” he spat out so scornfully, she felt about an inch tall. “I am appalled that you have such a low opinion of me after everything we shared. Quite apart from any moral issues, my company and I have a reputation to be proud of, and I would hardly sully that by being accused by the media of being a child kidnapper, even of my own son.”

“I’m sorry. But what will your wife say when she finds out about James?”

“My wife? You mean Sophia?”

“How many wives do you have? You remember—the woman you were with last night?” she flashed back at him.

“But that wasn’t…” He took a deep breath and let it out slowly, choosing his words. “Sophia has nothing to do with this—or anything.”

So, Amy mused, the marriage was probably now in tatters and poor Sophia had been hurt, just as Giovanni had predicted. And Alessandro had found himself a mistress to keep him amused—just the role he had obviously intended for her, if she hadn’t had the courage to leave. Obviously, the woman he had been dining with the previous night had not been his wife after all. Amy had not seen her face. Maybe he had spent a passionate night with her at the Danieli hotel. Amy’s heart turned a painful somersault at the thought. But none of that made any difference. James should be allowed to meet his father.

“All right, Alessandro,” she said at last. “I will bring James here, to the park, after school tomorrow. You can see him and talk to him, but please don’t tell him who you are until he gets used to you.”

“Thank you, Amy.”

“How did you find me?”

“Your former colleague, Janice, had heard a rumor you were in Venice and called your mother, pretending she needed to send you some documents.”

“I can’t believe she told you where I was. They all promised to keep my secret.”

“But Janice needed a new car.” He smiled wryly.

“Bitch!” Amy spat the word out, and Alessandro shrugged.

“Everyone has a price. She told me you’ve inherited a property from your godmother?”

“Yes. Maria Vicente was my godmother, and if the name rings a bell, it is because my father used your company to make some investments for her about twenty-three years ago. She and my parents became great friends, and as she had no children, she named me as her heir. It was totally unexpected, but now I have a real home for James, and we are converting the villa into a small hotel. It’s security for life.”

“I am pleased for you. Truly, I am.”

“We’re happy here, Alessandro.” The implication, “Please don’t spoil it,” hung between them. After a moment, she called the dog. “Snoopy! Here, boy.”

“Your puppy?”

“He’s James’s.”

Alessandro leaned down to fuss the little dog, who snuffled at his hand before giving him a long, wet lick. “He likes me.” He smiled. “I suppose that’s a start.”

Amy clipped on Snoopy’s lead and stood up, looking directly at Alessandro for the first time. She was pale and trembling, and he stood to face her, taking her shoulders.

“You can trust me, Amy. I don’t know why you think I am such a villain, but I guess that doesn’t matter anymore.” He sighed very deeply, “I just want to know my son.”

“All right. I’ll see you here tomorrow at four o’clock.” Shaking herself free, she walked away, feeling sick with anguish and fear of what the next few days might bring.

Disconsolately, she wandered along the water’s edge and arrived at the boat landing in time to see the
vaporetto
mooring up. On a whim, she bought a ticket and jumped aboard. She decided to go to Gabriel’s antique shop on the island to see if he had time to discuss ideas for furnishing Hotel Maria—anything to take her mind off Alessandro’s hands on her and the dread that from now on, however peripherally, he was destined to be a part of her life. She recalled that first day in Rome, when the same thought had gone through her mind, but she had had no idea then of how painful the reality was going to be. Snoopy whimpered with fright on the rocking boat, so she cuddled him on her lap, soothing him softly until the boat docked, half an hour later, at St. Mark’s Square.

When she reached Gabriel’s shop, he was busy with a customer, so she wandered round, looking at the selection of furniture, silverware, and paintings he had displayed so artfully. The shop almost looked like a living room. At last, he was free and came to her with a broad smile.

“Can’t stay away from me, huh?”

Mutely, she nodded and then sank into a chair, her head in her hands.

“What is it, Amy? Or should I guess?”

“I met him in the park. He knows about James and wants to meet him. I’m so frightened.”

He came to sit beside her and took her hand. “Perhaps it’s for the best. If I were in his shoes, I would want to meet James too.”

“I said I would take James to the park after school tomorrow, so the die is cast.” She paused, taking a deep breath, and then said “Gabriel, Alessandro thinks you are my lover. Do you mind if we keep up that illusion for the moment?”

“No, I would be honored, but don’t tell him outright lies for James’s sake. If you have to have a relationship with him, however tenuous, don’t build it on lies.”

“He did!” she snapped, but then seeing a mutinous flash in Gabriel’s eyes, she climbed down. “Let’s not talk about him anymore. I want you to help me furnish the hotel.”

“I would love to. It was built in the late twenties, early thirties, so left to my own devices, I would furnish it in that period, with Art Deco.”

“That’s a wonderful idea!” she said, brightening up.

“It wouldn’t be too expensive to use reproduction art deco—for example, chrome banister rails on that lovely staircase—and it’s very easy to get repro posters for all the bedrooms. Then there are furniture makers who still make pieces in that fashion, so your bedrooms could have lots of character and style. I spend so many nights in hotels all over Europe which are as welcoming as a doctor’s waiting room and so depressing.”

Amy began to get some color back in her face as she saw his vision, and together, they pored over some books for more ideas. “I would love to have some genuine Art Deco in the dining room and the room we have decided would be good for small meetings and conferences. Could you help me find some things for those?”

“Yes, of course. There is an auction next week in Padua where I would expect to find some good pieces. Come with me?”

“Love to. Well, now that I am feeling more cheerful, I’ll go home—it’s nearly time to collect James and Donna from school. Sonya and I take turns.”

Gabriel saw her to the door and gave her hug. “Keep your chin up. Say hi to Sonya for me.”

“Yes…yes, I will. Come on, Snoopy. Time to go home.”

The little dog stirred from a very comfortable cushion he had dragged under a table, shook himself, and licked his lips.

“Yes, I know it’s past your dinner time, but I can’t risk you throwing up on the boat. I’ll feed you at home,” she told him as together, they made their way back to the boat.

Somehow, Amy got through the next twenty-four hours. The prospect of seeing Alessandro again was agonizing and even more so now that he was to meet James. Sonya brought the children home after school, and then Amy told James that she was taking him to the park with Snoopy.

“Can’t Donna come too?” he begged.

“Not today, darling. I want you to myself.” And with that, he had to be satisfied.

“Can I take my football?”

“Yes, James, as long as you don’t expect me to be in goal.”

As they walked along, he jumped and skipped and teased Snoopy, who was on his lead. He didn’t see Alessandro, dressed in jeans and a thick Aran sweater, sitting on the park bench for some time, as he ran round with the puppy, throwing a ball for him and shrieking with delight when the little dog actually caught it. Amy went to sit on the bench, as far from Alessandro as she could, and said nothing for a while. She could sense the tension between them; it felt as though they were joined by an over-stretched guitar string, in danger of snapping at any moment. Alessandro’s eyes followed James as he ran round the park, and at last, his voice cracking, he said, “He is so beautiful…and he’s speaking Italian to the dog.”

“He speaks Italian, French, and English,” Amy replied.

“You must be so proud of him.”

“He’s my whole world, Alessandro.” They watched James play for a while, and then Amy called him to her. “James, I want you to meet a friend of mine. This is Alessandro.”

“Hello.” James beamed. “I’m five next week, and this is my dog, Snoopy.”

“Hello, James.” For a moment, that was all Alessandro could manage, but then he cleared his throat and patted the puppy as Snoopy came gamboling up to him. “He’s a cute dog.”

“He likes you,” said James. “I’ve got a ball. Can you play football? My favorite team is Manchester United, but Gabriel says I should support Juventus now that we live in Italy.”

“Juventus is my team, and I go to see them whenever I can.”

Amy glanced at him in surprise, and he caught her eye. “Is that true?” she asked.

“I have shares…Oh damn, I’m sorry; I didn’t mean to say that. Yes, James, they are a great team. Perhaps we could go and watch them together one day?”

“Can I, Mama? Perhaps you could come too…and Gabriel?” He faltered and looked from one to the other, puzzled, picking up on the atmosphere between them.

“Do you want to kick a ball around?” asked Alessandro.

“Yes! That’s the goal, between those trees, okay?” The two of them trotted off, while Amy sat and watched with amazement. A few moments later, the elegant, suave sophisticate she thought she knew was sprawling full-length on the damp grass after trying to stop a ball from his five-year-old son and clearly loving it.

After half an hour, they came back to the bench, exhausted and covered in mud.

“He’s good,” gasped Alessandro.