Chapter 13
13
Natalie had to admit, Cate was a pro. Despite being asked to take her ‘first’ sip of cappuccino three times and to eat a breakfast that consisted of three bites of four different identical cornetti , her smile didn’t falter. Her no-make-up make-up was flattering and sophisticated, her spun-silk hair glowed in the morning light, not a single buttery flake had fallen on her white shirt. Natalie’s hastily eaten cornetto had left a sticky film on her fingers, a blob of the apricot marmellata marred her thankfully patterned dress and only a discreetly raised eyebrow from Lucia alerted her to the dusting of icing sugar clinging to her lipstick.
‘It’s a wrap.’ The director was satisfied. The crew started packing up; curious onlookers began drifting away. Natalie let out a breath. They’d been filming a simple sequence but she knew how much could go wrong. Today, it had all gone smoothly; she could set Floella’s mind at rest. For now. Flo had said she had every faith in Natalie, but her frequent messages and emails told a different story.
‘Now we will go to the San Marco district where the countess likes to shop,’ Lucia said, tucking her dark hair behind her ears. ‘We will go to the exclusive small boutiques. That will be enjoyable, sì ?’
‘Perfect,’ Natalie said.
Cate pulled down her sunglasses. ‘ You and me shopping together – shades of Lakeside . ’
‘Lakeside, what is this?’ Lucia broke off from glancing around the café, making sure neither they nor the crew had left anything lying around.
‘A shopping centre, a mall, I suppose you’d call it,’ Natalie explained. ‘I used to save up my birthday and Christmas money to go there. Those branches of Claire’s Accessories and Dotty Ps seemed the most thrilling places in the world.’
‘I got my ears pierced in that branch of Debenhams,’ Cate added.
Natalie remembered it well. ‘Are we okay to go, Lucia? Have we got everything?’
The young woman peered beneath their table. ‘Yes, I have checked everywhere but I must thank the owner… ahh, Bianca, grazie mille , thank you so much. I hope we were not too much trouble.’
‘Not at all.’ The woman patted a chair back as if assuring Lucia that everything was quite in order. ‘ Arrivederci , Lucia, give my love to your mamma.’
‘ Grazie, arrivederci .’ Lucia tucked her leather folder under her arm. ‘ Allora , Cate, Natalie. The crew will meet us at the boutiques. They have a barge to transport their equipment most of the way. We three can walk, if you like.’
‘Sure. I need to keep up my steps,’ Cate said.
They set off along the canal front.
‘I do like this area; it’s got a different, quieter neighbourhood feel,’ Natalie said.
‘That will change as soon as we get to the Strada Nova. We will meet the crowds going to and from the railway station. Tourists everywhere.’ Lucia shrugged.
‘The lady who owned the café where we had breakfast, was she a friend of yours?’ Cate asked.
‘Yes, I know Bianca well; she is a family friend.’ Lucia’s face brightened. ‘Perhaps it was wrong of me to choose her café for the filming this morning, but it is a nice place.’
‘Don’t worry, it was perfect,’ Natalie said. ‘Now, which street do we need to take?’
‘Follow me. Be careful of the suitcases.’ Lucia cut a path through the wheelie-case-wielding groups across the wide Strada Nova into a shady calle which brought them out right by the vaporetto stop.
‘We have private water taxis booked for most of your stay, but we will take the vaporetto today. We need the Number One. It is a fun way to travel the Grand Canal, zigzagging – I think you say – between a stop on one bank and then the other.’
‘Of course, that does sound fun… You have the tickets already, Lucia?’ Natalie asked.
‘Yes, certo .’ Lucia opened her enviably organised folder. ‘You must validate them by tapping here and that will open the gate.’
‘The vaporetto is coming, that’s Number One, isn’t it? And look! There’s some outside seats free!’ Cate sounded more like a child queuing up for a Florida theme park ride than a designer-clad grown-up with a goodness-knows-how-much-that-cost bag and a swishy blow-dry. Natalie couldn’t help smiling.
The three of them squeezed their way through the inside cabin and out of the rear door to the open-air deck. Lucia managed to grab three spare seats all squashed up together, so close Natalie caught a waft of Cate’s warm, floral fragrance.
The vaporetto pulled away from the mooring, moving slowly through the green water. A sleek, black gondola with cherry leather seats glided past carrying a Chinese couple cuddled up together, its gondolier’s traditional straw hat and striped polo shirt a far cry from the baggy shorts and logoed T-shirts of the crew of the workaday barge piled high with reels of electrical cable heading in the opposite direction.
Neither Cate nor Natalie spoke, content to listen as Lucia pointed out the baroque facade of the Ca’ Pesaro, the gothic Ca’ d’Oro and the bustling fish market. Cate took photo after photo on her phone. Perhaps she was planning to send them to the absent Phil.
The canal swung to the right, bringing the elegant arch of the Rialto Bridge into view. A couple were leaning against the white, stone balustrade, kissing, wrapped in each other’s arms. A little girl in a floppy, yellow sun hat, held high in her daddy’s arms, waved as they passed underneath. Cate waved back enthusiastically, ponytail bobbing. She’d had the sense to tie back her hair as soon as they’d sat down on the exposed deck. Natalie pushed her fringe out of her eyes, hoping Lucia had a hair stylist on standby for when filming recommenced.
‘Simona Rinaldi is one of the most exclusive boutiques in the city,’ Lucia explained as their vaporetto continued its journey along the winding canal. ‘The collection she has is incredible! The cuts are exquisite, the fabrics of the highest quality. And she is renowned for her expert eye. The way she puts an outfit together has her customers walking out feeling several centimetres taller.’
‘Really? I never seem to know what suits me.’ Cate glanced down at her narrow-legged trousers.
‘I would not say that; your style is quite chic.’ Lucia smiled.
The vaporetto slowed to a halt on a sharp bend, waiting as vessels criss-crossed this way and that. A few moments later, they were on the move again.
‘There’s the Palazzo Grassi, now used for art exhibitions.’ Lucia pointed. ‘And on the other side, Ca’ Rezzonico, once the home of the poet Robert Browning.’
Natalie knew what was coming next. She didn’t need Lucia’s help to identify the wooden bridge curving over the canal in front of them, and neither – by her sharp intake of breath – did Cate.
The vaporetto passed under the Accademia Bridge.
‘After the old masters in the Accademia gallery, we pass the Collezione Guggenheim , where they hold the American heiress’s famous modern-art collection.’ Lucia continued her commentary, oblivious to the tension Natalie felt so strongly. It was hard to believe the rest of the passengers were able to talk or fiddle with their phones as if today were like any other.
‘We are here.’ Lucia consulted her smartwatch as the vaporetto nosed towards the landing stage. ‘Perfect. We will arrive exactly when Simona is expecting us.’
Cate pulled her ponytail out of its half-moon clip. Natalie stood up, ready to disembark. She had a job to do. And she was determined to do it professionally.
Cate walked beside her, up the calle that led to Simona Rinaldi’s shop, shoulder bag clamped to her side, dark glasses obscuring half her face. It was impossible to know just what she was thinking.