The Venice Sketchbook(104)
He’ll be well looked after, I tried to tell myself. I was shaking so hard that I put my hands up to my face to stop the sobs. He’ll grow up to be Il Conte Da Rossi. What more could any boy want?
And I knew the answer. He would never have a mother who loved him.
I opened my journal and tried to write it all down. Everything except my feelings. How can you put a broken heart on to a piece of paper? The full enormity of what had happened hadn’t completely engulfed me yet, but I knew that it would, soon enough. Never to see him again. Never to hold him in my arms and have him look up at me with that sweet smile and say, “Mama.” How would I bear it? And yet I had no choice.
After I have recorded this, I will close my journal. How could I ever write in it again when there was so much that would give me pain? I opened my desk, removed the drawers, slid back the panel, took the little key and accessed the secret drawer to hide the journal away. There it will stay for now, and I won’t be tempted to read of happier times.
CHAPTER 42
Caroline, Venice, October 20, 2001
She should be going home, Caroline kept telling herself. That incident with Luca had been madness, a way of wanting to get back at Josh, to remind herself that she was still desirable.
It meant nothing, she repeated to herself, but she couldn’t deny her attraction to Luca. Not that she believed he was equally attracted to her, although he had somehow found time to visit every day for the past week and invited her out to his penthouse on the Lido—“where I have plenty of good wine that is not ‘plonk’ and a bed that is not quite as narrow and uncomfortable as this one!” And he had laughed.
“Luca,” she had replied, annoyed with herself for blushing, “this is crazy. We hardly know each other. I’m not the sort of woman who jumps into bed with any man she meets.”
“Of course you are not, Cara,” he replied. “But we are both grown up with no ties, and I like you, and I can tell you like me. So why not? You are not even a Catholic. You won’t have to go to confession like me.”
“You still do that?”
“Of course. One has to. But don’t worry. We have a tame priest who gives really light penances.” He laughed. “There is a lot you will have to learn about the Venetian way of life. And I shall be happy to instruct you.”
She told herself that she should have felt guilty and was surprised that she didn’t. I’m a grown woman, she thought. Twenty-seven years old and unattached. What is wrong with a relationship with a man who is also unattached? And the comment about instructing her on the Venetian way of life. Didn’t that imply he wanted her to stick around—that he saw some kind of future together?
The weather had been horrible, with several occasions of aqua alta, so she had not yet taken Luca up on his invitation to see his place on the Lido. He had spent the night at the flat several times, and she did feel guilty about not wanting to leave. Somehow staying on and getting involved with Luca seemed disloyal to her grandmother and like she was abandoning her son. But there wasn’t much more she could do for Teddy at the moment. She had found a nearby café where she could use Wi-Fi to keep in touch with Josh. His latest email contained a report from the psychiatrist confirming Teddy’s anxiety and saying that he seemed to feel safe in his current environment. Any attempt to move him could be detrimental to his mental health had been the conclusion. The email threw Caroline into turmoil.
“I don’t know what to do, Luca,” she said. “I don’t want to do anything that might damage my son, but my heart tells me that he’d be much more secure with his mother to hug him. And to be at his great-grandmother’s house with lots of room to run around.”
“I say always do what your heart tells you, Cara,” he replied, and the way he looked at her made her feel that he wasn’t just talking about Teddy.
Was he saying she should go to New York now, do what she felt was right? But she still had not scattered Aunt Lettie’s ashes, and until she did that, she couldn’t leave. Tomorrow, she thought. Tomorrow I will go. The next day she was cleaning the flat prior to leaving when she had a surprise visit. The feet that came up the stairs were not heavy like Luca’s but lighter. She opened the door and his mother stood there, gasping a little.
“Goodness,” she said. “This is quite a climb. May I come in?”
“What a surprise, contessa.” Caroline ushered her in. “Please, sit down. Would you like a glass of water or a cup of tea?”
“Just water, thank you, honey,” Luca’s mother said. “I hope you don’t mind my barging in like this, but I’ve been thinking about your predicament. With your son, I mean. I feel so badly for you. I know how I would have felt if someone had taken Luca from me. I would have fought tooth and nail to get him back, believe me. So I wondered . . . you know my brother is a lawyer, a high-powered lawyer in New York, actually. I wondered if you’d like him to get involved. Maybe all it would take would be a letter from him.”
“I don’t know that I can afford a high-powered lawyer,” Caroline said with an uneasy laugh.
The contessa patted her knee. “No need for that. A favour for his dear sister. Nothing too threatening. Just a gentle warning that your ex-husband needs to do the right thing.”
“I don’t know what to say,” Caroline said.