The Venice Sketchbook(60)

Luca leapt out, tied up the craft and then held out a hand to help her. “You didn’t get too wet, I hope?” he asked.

“No. I’m fine. I enjoyed it, actually.”

He nodded appreciation and set off for a modern white building facing the waterfront. Inside, a white-coated nurse greeted Luca and led them through to a room at the back of the building. There a little old lady lay propped against pillows. Her hair was snow white, her face peaceful, but the eyes she opened were dark and anxious.

“What is this?” she demanded.

“Nonna, I have brought a friend to see you,” he said.

Caroline got the gist of the Italian.

“This one you are finally going to marry?” the old woman asked. “Give us an heir?”

Luca gave an embarrassed grin and turned to translate for Caroline. “She wants me to marry you and produce an heir.” He sat on the edge of his grandmother’s bed. “This is a lady from England who’s come to talk to you.”

The old woman scrutinized Caroline’s face, blinked and reacted with a start.

“England?” Her face was suddenly hostile. “Me, I do not like the English.”

“She just wants to ask you a couple of questions, then we’ll go,” Luca said patiently. “She wants to know if you remember an English lady at the beginning of the war. She stayed in one of our buildings. A Miss Browning. Did you know her? Was she a friend of the family? Does that name ring a bell?”

“No. I do not know her. I never heard of this woman. Why would I be friends with an Englishwoman? Me, I hate the English. I wish them all dead.” She started waving her arms, as if swatting away flies. “Get that person out of here. I never wish to see an Englishwoman again. She has come to cause trouble. To give me grief.”

Luca caught her hand and patted it. “No, Nonna. She does not wish to cause you any pain. She just wants to find out about her relative who used to live here, that’s all.”

But the old woman was now too upset to calm down. Caroline tapped Luca on the shoulder. “We should go,” she whispered.

“I’m sorry,” he said when they were outside again. “I don’t know how much of that you understood. For some reason, she has a dislike of the British. Maybe something that happened long ago. The past and the present are mixed up for her. But she said she did not know of your aunt. Never met her.”

“That’s all right,” Caroline said. “There would have been no reason for her to meet members of your family. I presume the leasing was done through your company. Maybe people had left the city with the threat of war and they wanted to have their buildings occupied rather than have squatters set up in them.”

“I would believe that,” he said, “except why the ninety-nine-year lease? That is what doesn’t make sense to me.” He sighed. “Well, I don’t suppose we’ll ever find out now, unless you discover some correspondence between your aunt and our company that might throw light on the situation.”

“Or maybe some correspondence in your own archives,” Caroline said.

“Possible. But the city does not think it is a forgery, so I must accept that. Someone in our company made an error in judgement, or acted on a whim, and now we’ll probably never know who.” He helped Caroline into the boat. “So enjoy your new apartment. And who knows, I may decide that I want to buy the lease from you. Property in Venice now goes for a good sum.”

Caroline almost blurted out that she didn’t want to sell it, but then stayed silent. She would not be sentimental. The money would pay for a lawyer if she needed one to get Teddy home again. They sped across the lagoon, the boat bouncing over the waves, then landing with a thud. Luca pulled up beside her building, then helped her out.

“I am afraid the builders might be noisy,” he said. “And there is no heat in the building. But otherwise I hope you enjoy your stay. Let me know if you find anything of interest—some of the correspondence, maybe.”

Then he revved up the boat, and off he went. Caroline made her way up the stairs to the flat and, once inside, sank into one of the chairs. It had been an emotionally draining morning. Clearly her visit had awoken a painful memory for the old woman. The more Caroline thought about it, the more she became sure that it was something the old woman had seen when she looked at Caroline that had triggered that memory. Was there a family resemblance? And she began to suspect that Luca’s grandmother did remember Miss Browning after all.





CHAPTER 23


Juliet, late at night, Sunday, July 23, 1939

I don’t know how to put any of this down on paper, but I must. One day I will want to remember it, all the details. Every little detail.

The day of the Festa del Redentore. My landlady informed me that she would not be preparing an evening meal for me because of the festival. “You know—the Redentore. I mentioned it to you before. One of the biggest days of the year in Venice. Everyone joined in. Those who had a boat would be out in it. She would be crossing the bridge to picnic, to attend Mass and to watch fireworks. It was a day for families, but as she had no family in the city any longer, she would be joining the other widows from the street, and their children and grandchildren. I would be welcome to join them over on the island of Giudecca if I so desired. The big Mass at the church was at seven o’clock in the evening, but there were all sorts of events before that: boat races and a market and games for the children.”