Chapter 27
27
‘We could have stayed longer; I didn’t want to tear you away from Eraldo,’ Cate said.
‘I didn’t want us to be late; you booked timed tickets.’ Natalie tried not to look at Cate as they strolled along the fondamenta .
‘I’m glad we’re squeezing in Peggy Guggenheim’s collection before Phil arrives; modern art isn’t really his thing. He always says he’d rather look at a thousand Madonnas than some faceless woman or surrealist nightmare!’ Cate laughed.
‘ Luxe Life Swap ’s viewers aren’t keen on anything later than the nineteenth century, at least that’s what the focus groups tell us.’ As long as Natalie fixed her mind on her job, she’d be okay. She’d been handed a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. She couldn’t let Cate’s revelations about Phil derail her even though the thought of meeting him made her stomach heave. In less than a fortnight, she’d be back home. And she’d never have to see Venice or Cate ever again.
‘That must be the entrance to the gallery down there: where there’s a bit of a queue. I know this is going to be amazing… Are you okay, Natalie? You seem a bit quiet.’
‘I’m fine.’
‘I can’t wait to see the Kandinsky and Picasso, and of course there’s lots of Jackson Pollock too. I read that Peggy was collecting a painting a day at one point. Can you imagine!’ Cate walked on briskly, obviously energised by the thought of immersing herself in paint-dripped canvases and depictions of two-headed women.
Cate showed the ticket codes to a woman at the entrance. ‘I’d like to go round the sculpture garden first, if that’s okay with you.’
‘Sure.’ Natalie followed, thankful they would be out in the fresh air. Somehow, it felt easier to cope outdoors than cooped up inside with her erstwhile friend, who was already exclaiming over a red, metal sculpture.
‘Oh, isn’t it fun doing things together! I almost wish we had another day before Phil arrives even though I miss him so badly. I know he’s going to love the palazzo; it’s like something out of a fairy tale. Phil will just adore the Red Room, and the ancestors’ portraits on the landing will blow him away.’
Every mention of Phil’s name went through Natalie like the squeal of a dentist’s drill. She wandered past the pagoda to the far wall, pretending to examine two rectangular plaques fixed to the bricks whilst sending an upbeat reply to Floella’s latest anxious message.
‘Peggy’s ashes are buried here.’ Cate’s voice was soft. Natalie could feel her warm breath on her ear, caught a waft of her floral perfume. ‘And look, on that other plaque, those are the names of all Peggy’s dogs. She had these cute, silky Lhasa apsos she took everywhere with her. White Angel and Madam Butterfly – they’re pretty names! And Foglia, she didn’t live long, poor little thing! How sad. I can’t imagine losing dear Ted.’ Cate sniffed. ‘Sorry, sometimes I can be so sentimental. Phil says?—’
‘Let’s go into the main gallery,’ Natalie said quickly.
‘Of course. I don’t know why I’m babbling on when there’s so much amazing art to look at.’
‘I know you want to see the Kandinsky.’ Natalie followed Cate inside, trying to keep a distance between them. She feigned a particular interest in a mesmerising, black and white mobile flanked by two Picassos until Cate wandered away down one of the corridors. But her wished-for solitude didn’t last long. Cate was soon back, uttering exclamations of delight at every painting and regaling Natalie with snippets she’d apparently gleaned on a history of art course she’d once taken.
‘Look at the Andy Warhol,’ Cate said. ‘Evan – that’s Phil’s best friend – has a marvellous Warhol, one of his screen prints of Marilyn Monroe. His wife Lucy’s father was quite a collector. I always admire it when we go round for supper. Phil says…’
Natalie tried to switch off. Her neck and shoulders felt stiff and heavy. Glancing down, she noticed her fists were clenched. She put her hand to her forehead; it felt all scrunched up like discarded wrapping paper.
‘What’s wrong?’ Cate gently touched her arm.
‘Get off me!’
Cate snatched her hand away as if she’d touched a hot pan. Her eyes clouded with confusion.
‘Sorry, you made me jump.’ Natalie had to act normally. Had to get through the day.
‘Something’s wrong. I know you, Nat. Look, it’s getting busy in here. Let’s go out to the terrace; you probably need some air.’
Natalie let herself be led out to the terrace down the steps past a bronze statue of a naked man astride a horse. A very naked man.
‘ L’angelo della città – the Angel of the City. I’d heard this was here, but I didn’t imagine he’d look quite so pleased to see us!’ Cate laughed.
They took the last few steps onto the canal front terrace where Peggy Guggenheim had thrown her legendary parties. Turquoise and white poles marked the entrance where the eccentric gallery owner had once moored her private gondola.
‘Peggy knew anyone and everyone in the art world. Imagine the conversations!’ Cate said. ‘And some of her parties were so extravagant, wild and decadent. It’s said that she staged a re-enactment of the sinking of the Titanic , jumping naked into the Grand Canal with a whole orchestra following! Phil and I watched a programme about her once; well, I watched it, I think Phil was playing on his phone.’
Natalie stared down into the canal. She was almost tempted to follow Peggy’s wild stunt – without the nudity – and jump in. If only the water wasn’t so cold and dank. And knowing her luck, she’d be sure to be arrested or knocked unconscious by the ill-placed oar of a passing gondolier.
Cate pulled out her phone. ‘No messages – phew! Even now, I’m half-expecting Phil to be delayed by some last-minute problem but it looks like he’s taken off on time. I can’t believe we’ll soon be together in this amazing place. It’s incredible… unique.’ She waved a hand towards the canal. ‘I’m sure Phil’s going to be over the moon at being back here. That school trip changed his life. He was always interested in art but when Evan took him to see an oar-making workshop, he was so inspired, it made him even more determined to train as a craftsman. And of course, it was Evan’s uncle Seb who first employed him.’
Natalie tried to block out Cate’s voice; she studied the row of carved lions’ heads positioned low on the museum’s facade as though ready to lap the canal’s green waters.
‘Nat, you really don’t look well. Let’s go to the café, sit down, get you a cup of tea.’
‘Okay.’
No pot of tea could solve her problems but she followed Cate back through the museum to the paved area on the other side of the sculpture garden where cheerful yellow and white chairs flanked small tables for two. Natalie ordered tea for them both. Cate leant back in her seat, her expression serene, her limbs as relaxed as a ragdoll’s; it was impossible that she could know her husband’s dirty little secret.
‘There, that’s better. Maybe put some sugar in it.’ Cate pushed a small dish of colourful paper sachets towards her.
‘No, thanks.’ Natalie squished her teabag against the side of the metal pot, trying to coax some flavour into the not quite hot enough water. The throbbing in her head was increasing.
‘I don’t normally take sugar either but sugary tea works wonders when you’re stressed. Phil’s mother always says…’
‘Just stop!’ Natalie hadn’t meant to say the words out loud.
‘Stop what? Please tell me what’s wrong. I want to help, whatever it is.’
‘It’s nothing.’
‘You’re grinding your teeth.’
‘Am I?’ She poured out her tea; she couldn’t drink and teeth grind simultaneously. Nor respond to Cate’s insistent questioning.
‘What’s wrong? I can’t have a friend who won’t talk to me. It’s bad enough having a husband who bottles things up.’
‘Please,’ Natalie said quietly. ‘Please. Don’t. Keep. Talking. About. Phil.’
Cate’s hand flew to her mouth. ‘Oh, no. I didn’t think. I can’t imagine how hard it must be being single at nearly forty when everyone around you seems to be married with kids.’
‘I’m perfectly happy being single, thank you very much. I’d rather be single than with the wrong man.’
‘What’s that supposed to mean?’
‘Nothing.’ Natalie turned her head towards the waitress clearing cups away from the adjoining table. ‘It was just an observation… about people in general.’
‘No, it wasn’t. You meant something about me and Phil. Don’t try and wiggle out of it; I know you too well.’
‘It was nothing, honestly. Well, nothing to do with you.’
‘Well, something’s upset you. Oh, I know what it is. How stupid of me! I shouldn’t have mentioned our school trip, not after knowing what happened to you.’
‘Don’t worry about it,’ Natalie mumbled. She ripped open a packet of sugar and poured it into her tea, took a sip and pulled a face. She signalled for the bill. ‘Let’s go. You’ll want a bit of time to relax and freshen up before Phil gets here. Lucia and I won’t meet you until eight tonight when we’ll film you together at the palazzo; we’ll use that as part of the first episode, I expect.’
Tonight, meeting Phil: she didn’t know how she was going to get through it. But she had to do it. For her career. And for Floella. But most of all, she wasn’t going to give Phil the satisfaction of seeing her rattled. She was determined to give him the impression she hadn’t given him a moment’s thought since she’d scarpered that night.
She scraped back her chair. Cate didn’t move.
‘Sit down. We’re not going anywhere. Not yet. There’s something wrong, something to do with Phil. I know you only spoke to him for a few minutes on that school trip – don’t tell me you fell for him too?’
‘Of course not. Look, Cate, stop pushing it. I’m sorry I’m not my usual chirpy self but I’m not going to tell you why. I don’t see why I should and I can’t tell you anyway.’
‘Whatever it is, I’ll understand. I won’t let it destroy our friendship. Nothing’s going to change, I promise you.’
‘Everything’s already changed. And it’s nothing to do with you. This is all about me.’
‘Something went on between you and Phil.’ Cate’s voice trembled.
‘Shut up! Don’t make me say something I’ll regret.’
Cate grabbed her by the arm. ‘Whatever happened between you and Phil back then, it can’t hurt me now but I have a right to know. I’m his wife. And you’re my best friend. If you don’t tell me, I’ll be forever wondering what went on. Tell me, whatever it is.’
Natalie couldn’t meet her eyes. ‘Okay, but don’t say I didn’t warn you… Phil isn’t the man you think he is. Phil was the boy who attacked me.’
Cate’s mouth dropped open. She stared at Natalie. Nat was lying; she knew she was. But why? Cate was sure she’d done nothing to upset her since she’d arrived in Venice. The only possible explanation was that her old friend still harboured a bitter grievance from their school days. Wasn’t it enough for her to know that her cruel revelations about Cate’s mother had irreparably wrecked Cate’s relationship with her dad and destroyed her happy childhood? Evidently not. Natalie’s lust for revenge still wasn’t satisfied. Now she wanted to break up Cate’s happy marriage. How bitter and twisted was she? If Cate wasn’t so angry, she could almost feel sorry for the pathetic creature.
Cate gave a bitter little laugh. ‘What is it they say, Natalie? Revenge is a dish best served cold? You still haven’t forgiven me for not believing you that night, have you? You didn’t want to be friends again, did you? How stupid I was to think that you did.’ Cate’s voice dropped to a whisper. ‘Now you want to have your revenge by telling these lies, trying to destroy my marriage. Because I know… I know that Phil would never ever do something like that.’
‘You’re wrong. It was Phil in that alleyway, even if you don’t want to believe me. But I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said anything. I did want to be your friend again but finding out who Phil is has brought all the horror back. It was him. Ask him, see how he reacts, if you dare.’
‘I wouldn’t dream of accusing Phil of something I know he’d never do. And who do you think I’d believe – the father of my children or a jealous ex-friend who’s harboured a grudge for twenty-five years? You’re pathetic, Natalie; I feel sorry for you. You can stick your fake friendship and your stupid TV show. Don’t bother turning up with the film crew later. Phil and I will stay at the palazzo tonight. We’ll catch a flight home tomorrow.’
Natalie fell back into her seat as though she’d been knocked off her feet by a rogue wave. ‘You can’t just go. Everything’s set up… You’ve signed a contract.’
‘Sue me.’ Cate strode away.
‘Cate!’ Natalie jumped up, catching her shoulder bag strap on the handle of her chair. The waitress appeared by her side the same instant, brandishing a card reader; they hadn’t paid for the drinks. Natalie threw down a note; this was no time to wait for a receipt. Untangling herself, she hurried through the garden exit out over a little bridge and into a courtyard. Cate’s blonde hair and floaty dress were nowhere to be seen.
A sign on the wall pointed to the vaporetto station but she knew Cate would have had more sense than to go that way knowing that Natalie would catch her up if the Number One did not come immediately. Ignoring the dingy passageway that led off the courtyard, Natalie wandered around the corner back onto the fondamenta .
She scanned both sides of the narrow canal. No one around but the straggly queue outside the gallery. Natalie buried her head in her hands. She’d lost the star of Luxe Life Swap ’s new series. Cate had gone.
Natalie’s heart raced; her palms were sweating. She half felt she might be sick right there in the canal. How could she possibly break the news to Floella? Flo had worked so hard to build her business against the odds; she’d made such sacrifices. Natalie should have kept her mouth shut, gritted her teeth and got through the filming. Her ordeal would only last a few days. Flo-Go Productions was Floella’s life. Everything was riding on the success of Luxe Life Swap ; Flo’s team had pulled out all the stops. In one afternoon, Natalie had blown the whole thing sky-high.