Chapter 16
When those who’d been there before had told Fen a tour of the Basilica di San Marco was an unforgettable experience not to be missed, she had agreed to go along but her expectations hadn’t been high.
Obviously it would be impressive, but she hadn’t imagined for one moment that it would be anything more than that.
How wrong could one person be? It was so, so much more.
There were no other tourists permitted in the cathedral during these private visits.
If the basilica was wonderful from the outside, the interior effortlessly outdid it.
The gold mosaics and the artwork painstakingly created and added to over the course of many centuries were extraordinary.
The architecture was overwhelming, from the floor of inlaid marble and glass to the domed ceilings adorned with intricate paintings that took your breath away.
Coupled with so much stunning beauty, however, was the atmosphere of the place.
It was the realisation that for over a thousand years, Venetians had been coming here during times of trouble and peace to worship and pray for those they loved and had lost. When the lighting ceremony took place, the burnished gold mosaics glowed more intensely and the colours in the paintings grew more vivid; it was as if the characters depicted were coming alive before her eyes.
When they were invited to explore, Leon turned to the right to more closely examine a painting that had evidently caught his eye.
Fen followed several others making their way to the front of the church, where the high altar was adorned with the Pala d’Oro, an astonishing Byzantine altarpiece of gold and enamel studded with precious jewels.
Close up, the sight of it provoked an unexpected wave of emotion that caused a lump to expand in her throat.
Overwhelmed by the beauty of the craftwork, the atmosphere and the sheer joy of being allowed to witness something so magical, she felt her eyes fill with hot tears.
Which was totally embarrassing, because no one else appeared to be having this reaction.
Attempting to move away, she squeezed between two other visitors and realised her breath was starting to judder in her lungs, as if an audible sob might be on its way out.
Plus, it was threatening to be loud, which would be even more humiliating.
‘You OK?’
It was Jamie. He’d noticed. Not much got past him.
‘I’m fine.’
She’d kept her voice low, and he did too. ‘You don’t look fine.’ He was frowning now. ‘Something wrong? Is it to do with Leon?’
This was such a crazy idea that she did one of those undignified splutters that was half laughter, half sob.
‘No! Although, kind of. Oh, help, and I don’t have any tissues.
’ Fen gestured helplessly at the vaulted ceilings and the dazzling gold altarpiece.
‘It’s all so b-beautiful, everything’s perfect, and I’ve found Leon and Disa’s found Molly and it’s the best holiday I’ve ever had.
I’ve never been so happy and I don’t know what I’ve done to deserve all of this and now I’m really crying and you must think I’m a complete lunatic. ’
The words had come rushing out in a torrent and her cheeks were properly wet. Mortified, she wiped her face with both hands. ‘It’s this place, it’s really got to me. I can’t get over how people b-built something so incredible.’
Jamie’s mouth had begun to twitch at the corners. Her breath catching in her throat, Fen whispered, ‘Please don’t make fun of me. I already feel stupid enough.’
And now he was laughing, but quietly. ‘I’m not making fun of you, I’m just glad nothing’s wrong.
And I’m happy you’re happy.’ Producing a clean tissue from his pocket, he passed it to her then briefly rested his hand in the small of her back as a couple of the Australian guests edged past them.
‘Cry as much as you like. I’m the same when I hear “Nessun Dorma”.
Sometimes these things get to you and there’s no stopping it. ’
His hand had only made contact with her spine for a moment; one second it was there, the next it was gone.
But the sensation of his fingers against the fine cotton of her shirt remained, sending zip-zaps of adrenalin radiating outwards like the chrysanthemum burst of a firework.
Fen’s eyes widened and a tiny shiver went through her.
Had he felt that too? Except of course he hadn’t; all he’d done was politely shield her from being jostled.
And now he was turning away, studying a statue, pointing it out to one of the other people on the tour.
Right, time to get a grip. At least the tears had stopped and her breathing was under control. The tsunami of emotion had swept her up, but now she was back to normal. And here came Leon.
‘This place is out of this world,’ he exclaimed. ‘I’ve just taken sixteen photos of a pair of marble angels.’ He paused. ‘Are you all right? Your eyes look a bit pink.’
‘It’s made me all emotional. Jamie had to give me a tissue. Are you OK?’ Because he’d winced while twisting sideways to duck out of the way of someone else’s photo.
‘Absolutely. It’s only the bruises coming out.’
Jamie rejoined them, shaking his head. ‘Going for the old sympathy vote, are you? Such an attention-seeker.’
‘I’ve never broken any ribs.’ Leon touched his left side and gingerly pressed it. ‘What does it feel like?’
Jamie frowned. ‘If you really think they’re broken, you should see someone about it, get yourself checked out.’
Leon grinned. ‘Are you calling me a wuss? Of course they’re not broken. And I’m on holiday, aren’t I? Definitely not trotting off to the hospital to be poked and prodded about.’
‘Maybe you should,’ said Fen.
‘That’s not going to happen. It isn’t only rufty-tufty rugby players who can be big and brave, you know.’ He landed a playful fist on Jamie’s arm. ‘No need to fuss. By tomorrow I’ll be fine.’
The situation was getting trickier. No, scratch that. It was turning into a total nightmare and Jamie wasn’t liking it one bit.
The private tour was over and everyone was making their way back along the waterfront to the ship.
The night was still, the stars were out, and all around them in one of the most romantic cities in the world were couples, arm in arm and with their heads together, either walking along or sitting on benches, speaking earnestly, groping each other or kissing as if their lives depended on it.
Upon leaving the basilica, he’d found himself buttonholed by Matt and Margot from Uttoxeter.
Matt on his left was intent on talking rugby, while Margot on his right was bursting with questions about every celebrity he’d ever appeared with on TV.
Their chatter was entertaining, but he was unable to enjoy the repartee as much as he normally would.
Instead he found himself replying to them both on autopilot, his mind elsewhere.
Up ahead were Leon and Fen, laughing, chatting non-stop and holding hands as they strolled along.
Even from behind, you could sense their connection and the strength of feeling between the two of them.
As Jamie watched, Leon stopped walking and drew Fen against him, his free hand curling around her neck as he pulled her in for a lingering kiss.
There it was again, that specific sensation in the centre of his chest. He might not be able to describe the feeling, but he knew for sure he didn’t like it.
He knew what it meant, though. He liked Fen Madden. More than liked her, more than he’d ever liked a woman before.
He wanted her, but couldn’t have her.
Maybe if he’d been the one to meet her first . . .
Except he had met her first, outside that bar on Whiteladies Road, but he hadn’t known it was her and she’d been nothing more than a figure in the shadows, giving him a brief lesson in good manners before watching him walk away.
It had been his big chance and he’d missed it.
That was karma for you. If he’d changed his mind about going inside, had turned up at her super-keen friend’s party, he would have seen her properly, spoken to her some more and got to know her better, then been intrigued enough to know he wanted to see her again.
And again. The wheels of fate could have been set in motion and everything would be different now, because how he was beginning to feel about Fen was worlds apart from how he’d always felt about girlfriends in the past.
But none of that had happened, because he’d made the wrong decision, had metaphorically dropped the all-important ball.
And now there was nothing, absolutely nothing, he could do about it. He couldn’t even try. Leon was his best friend and there was no way he could do that to him.
‘Hello? You’re miles away!’ Margot was laughing and waving a hand in front of his face. ‘Earth to Jamie!’ She eyed him avidly. ‘I was asking you what that comedian’s like, the one you do the sports quiz with?’
‘Sorry, I was thinking about the basilica.’ Was using a place of worship as an excuse punishable by God? ‘You mean Rick? He’s a good guy, always fun to work with.’ This wasn’t remotely true, but it was his standard response to the question.
‘Really?’ Margot looked disappointed. ‘My friend Geraldine met him once and she said he was really rude to her.’
Away from the cameras, being really rude to people was Rick’s favourite thing, but Jamie wasn’t going to fall into the trap of agreeing with her.
Ahead of them, the kiss was now over and Leon and Fen were walking once more, her arm around his waist while his was at hip level, his hand tucked comfortably into the back pocket of her pink jeans.
Jamie looked away, recalling the moment in the church when he’d realised how overcome with emotion Fen was and had attempted to comfort her.
It had only been the briefest of touches, but the effect on him had been electrifying, so much so that a surge of adrenalin had whipped through his body with such intensity that he’d wondered if it was even possible that Fen had felt it too.
He’d told himself that he hadn’t meant to do it, but that was a lie; making voluntary physical contact with someone you liked was never really an accident, was it? Subconsciously, you felt compelled to touch them.
Which was something else he had to make sure he never did again.
From now on, there needed to be zero touching.
And yes, he could manage that, because in the long run it was the easier option.
He couldn’t describe the way he was feeling, but it had – had – to stop.
Like an alcoholic realising he must never have another drink, because one would never be enough. It was called self-control.
Up ahead, Fen was now answering her phone. Seconds later, Leon turned and waved to attract Jamie’s attention.
‘Molly’s managed to switch to an early shift, so shall we all meet up tomorrow evening?’
Did he want to? Not particularly, but what else would he do? It would be rude to refuse. He said, ‘Up to you. I’m easy.’
Leon laughed. ‘Well, we all know that.’
Margot, still at his side, gave him a hefty nudge. ‘I don’t know who this Molly is, but if you ask me, she’s a lucky girl!’