Chapter 36 Gayle
G AYLE
‘You ready to go, hon?’ Mike says, once they’re back in their suite after breakfast.
Gayle had been looking forward to the trip to the small island of Burano today, to walk along the pretty rows of coloured houses and watch a lace-making demonstration. But after seeing Elena in the restaurant at breakfast, cowering while Christian towered above her, interrogating her about goodness knows what, Gayle has to do more to help her. She needs to get through to Elena’s mother somehow.
Anna-Maria’s run-down apartment building, with the never-ending steep flights of stairs, and the aggressive neighbour with his broom are worth facing again if it means helping Elena escape. It took a bit of convincing for Mike to agree to come back to the Jewish Ghetto, but she’s found her voice here in Venice and she’s using it, even if it makes her quiver inside whenever she challenges him.
The trip back to Cannaregio has none of the sense of adventure that it did a couple of days ago. It’s an icy wind that awaits them at the vaporetto stop, and when they pile onto the crowded boat, there are no seats. Twice on the journey, Mike holds on to Gayle to stop her falling when she’s jostled by people disembarking. They finally get to sit down for the last two stops before San Marcuola.
To Gayle’s surprise, when Mike knocks on Anna-Maria’s door this time, she greets them both with bone-crushing hugs.
‘Mi dispiace,’ she says over and over. ‘Sorry, sorry.’ She rolls her Rs. Her face is racked with worry.
‘Mike Dawson,’ Mike pants. ‘My wife, Gayle.’
Anna-Maria clutches Gayle’s hands in hers. The lady’s grip is fierce.
‘Elena wants to escape.’ Mike talks as loudly as he does to his deaf friend, Jim, back in Little Rock. ‘She’s coming for you.’
Anna-Maria nods. ‘I ready, yes. Vieni dentro, vieni.’ She motions for them to come inside.
They hesitantly follow her into the apartment. The small living area is crammed with furniture, all of it old, unmatching and worn. The walls are covered in a beige and gold paisley wallpaper that’s peeling.
‘Please, welcome.’ Anna-Maria motions for them to sit on a worn sofa.
Mike removes his sun visor. No matter the situation, Mike never forgets his manners. It’s one of his most endearing features.
Anna-Maria shows them a small white box on the formica coffee table. Inside is a new smart phone. ‘Giacomo, he buy for me.’
‘Giacomo?’ Mike says.
‘Si, yes. Giacomo, my friend.’ She points in the direction of the apartment that belongs to the neighbour who chased them. ‘You tell Elena, I have money.’ She pats an unsealed package on the table and pulls a handful of money out to show them. Gayle’s eyes almost pop out of her head. Each note is two hundred euro. There must be at least fifty, maybe more. By the looks of the apartment, this isn’t a wealthy family. The amount in that package could very well be Anna-Maria’s entire life savings. It’s all so horribly sad.
Mike turns to Gayle and mutters, ‘We didn’t need to come back. She’s got it all under control.’
Gayle can see the disappointment in his eyes. Mike likes to be a helper.
Anna-Maria holds her palm out in a stop sign. ‘Aspettate. You wait, please.’ She disappears further into the apartment.
Gayle looks at the photos on the mantelpiece. It seems Elena has a brother. She wonders where he is and if he knows what’s unfolding with his mother and sister. She says a quick prayer for Elena’s kindly looking father who passed away.
Anna-Maria returns with a dented blue cake tin in her hands. Much of the paint has peeled off. ‘Please. For you.’ She hands it to Gayle.
‘Go on and open it, hon.’ Mike’s eyes are big.
Gayle takes off the lid to find a dozen or more delicate jam pastries crammed into the tin. She looks at Anna-Maria in awe. ‘For us?’
‘Yes.’ Anna-Maria smiles shyly. ‘For thank you.’
There’s so much of Elena in Anna-Maria. Their large brown eyes and dark hair, the same olive skin.
‘Why, that’s very kind of you. Let me just sample one here.’ Mike reaches across Gayle’s lap for a pastry. ‘Mmm, delicious.’ His voice is muffled. The pastry crumbs fall onto his pants.
Anna-Maria sits on the armchair opposite them. ‘You give one for Elena? She no eat.’ She bites her lip.
Gayle’s heart constricts. How on earth can she get pastries to Elena? But she knows what a mother needs to hear. ‘Of course. I’ll save some for Elena.’
‘You and Elena, friends,’ Anna-Maria states.
‘Yes,’ Gayle says. Elena may not think of them as friends, but she does.
‘Christian, no good.’ Anna-Maria’s eyes brim with tears.
‘Yes,’ Gayle says again. A cold fear for Elena settles on her.
Mike finishes his pastry and licks his fingers clean. There’s not much left to say, so they stand up to leave. Anna-Maria hugs them again and thanks them profusely.
‘I’ve got a bad feeling about Elena’s escape.’ Gayle watches Cannaregio disappear behind them as their boat moves away from the esplanade. She’s shivering but it’s not because of the cold wind whipping around them. ‘I do hope she stays safe.’
‘Don’t you worry, hon. Anna-Maria’s got it in hand. Don’t underestimate how far a parent will go for their child.’
She gapes at him, and he holds his hand up. ‘Now, I know what you’re gonna say, so you don’t need to say it. But it’s not as simple as all that.’
He’s told her not to say it, so she doesn’t, but she thinks it. How far would they go for their child? Not far enough, it seems.
The sights of Venice wash over her on the journey back to San Marco. Anna-Maria is risking it all for her daughter, and what has Gayle done for Noah? She has to fix this. God will never forgive her unless she fixes it. She looks over at Mike, who’s recording the boat ride on his phone.
It’s too late for her to go back to being the woman she was before she came to Venice. The new Gayle is finally going to be the mother Noah deserves, even if it means her marriage will never be the same. Her palms feel sweaty. If only being a good mother didn’t make her a troublesome wife.