Chapter 47 Loretta
L ORETTA
‘Amal Clooney’s personal assistant is on the phone. She wants to book out the entire restaurant for them tonight,’ Marina announces.
‘For who?’ Loretta asks.
‘For Amal and George, obviously.’
Loretta wipes her cocoa-covered hands on her apron. ‘No bookings.’
‘She said they’re prepared to pay three times what we’d make if we opened to the public.’
These types of calls come whenever the rich and famous are in town. They know the walk-ins only rule, of course they do. It’s part of the character that’s made Loretta’s little restaurant so popular. But these people think the rules don’t apply to them. The very last thing she feels like doing is fawning over Hollywood types.
‘No bookings,’ Loretta repeats.
‘The Clooneys are here for the exhibition, Mamma. They’re doing a good deed, promoting our cause.’
‘I know, I saw them in the piazza, posing like peacocks.’
‘You saw them? Why didn’t you say anything?’
‘What was there to say?’
Marina rolls her eyes. ‘Maybe just this once, we should let them have the restaurant, as a gesture of goodwill.’
Loretta sighs. ‘Child, we have enough fish here to feed over fifty people. Goodwill means opening our doors to everyone. I won’t waste good food so we can indulge an ageing actor and his do-gooder wife. Tell them no bookings.’
‘You’re impossible!’ Marina throws her hands in the air. Her face is almost as red as her glasses’ frames. ‘Papà, please explain to her that this is one of the most powerful couples in the world. Having them eat here is a big deal. It would be so good for business. Tell her!’
‘No bookings.’ Alberto doesn’t look up from where he’s sitting polishing the silver candlesticks.
Loretta has a sudden surge of love for him. He always has her back, always. The guilt stabs her heart.
Marina swears under her breath and leaves.
Minutes later, Sophie walks into the kitchen, wearing a lime-green crossover top with a pink and black leopard-print skirt. The whole outfit hugs her body like a second skin. It’s nothing like the conservative vintage dresses she’s worn since she arrived in Venice, and she oozes a new confidence. She’s ravishing, there’s no other word for her. And she’s showing so much cleavage, Rocco’s eyes might just fall out of his head when he sees her.
Loretta hasn’t forgotten how Rocco ignored her advice this morning about Elena and instead followed Sophie’s orders. Sophie’s influence on him alarms her. She can only hope her son will bounce back from the hurt that’s sure to be coming his way once she leaves, and that he doesn’t spiral again.
‘Marina just told me you knocked back George and Amal Clooney.’ Sophie’s green eyes are sparkling. ‘That’s definitely making it into my feature.’
Loretta smiles at her. ‘Very good.’
‘Do you think they’ll turn up for dinner anyway?’ Sophie says.
Loretta shrugs. ‘If they do, I am saving the smallest pieces of fish for them and the oldest-looking parsnips. Imagine trying to close a restaurant because you think you are too important to eat with other people. Cretini.’
Sophie hoots, and even after the emotionally gruelling day she’s had, Loretta laughs too. She gave Sophie the cold shoulder today after she inserted herself so forcefully in Elena’s business, but she can’t stay mad at this girl. Sophie is just too loveable. It’s no wonder Rocco’s fallen for her so fast.
Sophie pulls out her camera and photographs Alberto polishing the candlesticks.
‘Alberto, go upstairs and rest,’ Loretta says. ‘You have not had enough rest today.’
‘Are you coming with me?’ he asks her.
‘I want to visit Anna-Maria Zanetti quickly, before dinner.’
He raises his eyebrows. ‘Davvero?’
‘Yes, really,’ she replies in Italian, breaking her own rule of only speaking English in front of Sophie. ‘Why shouldn’t I visit her? Isn’t she my friend whose husband died?’
‘And when was the last time you visited this friend ?’
‘Mind your own business and stop polishing candlesticks that don’t need polishing just so you can be here to annoy me.’ She slams the tea towel on the bench, pulls her coat off the coat rack and walks out of the kitchen.
‘Where are you going now ?’ Marina asks as she passes the reception desk.
‘Why do I need to report my movements to everyone in this place?’ Loretta snaps at her. ‘I’ll be back for dinner, that’s all you need to know.’
She wishes she could go to Flavia. It’s killing her knowing Flavia has been so close by all day without having seen her. But she can’t be disappearing from the hotel all the time, and she absolutely has to see Anna-Maria Zanetti and help in any way she can, before Anna-Maria loses another child to tragedy. She walks quickly along the lanes, stopping to talk to no one until she arrives at the canal, where she catches the boat to Cannaregio and watches San Marco disappear from view.
It’s been more than a decade since Loretta last saw Anna-Maria, at Paolo’s funeral. Loretta and Anna-Maria were once the closest of friends, but after Paolo died, Loretta quietly disappeared from Anna-Maria’s life. She justified it to herself by thinking that her continued presence in Anna-Maria’s life, flaunting her son of the same age who was still very much alive, would only serve as a painful reminder to Anna-Maria of what she had lost. But the truth of it was that Loretta couldn’t bear to be around the other woman’s boundless grief. Over the years, the guilt gnawed away at her in a subtle-enough way that she was able to bury it, but Elena’s return to Venice has changed that.
Loretta hasn’t had reason to go to the Jewish Quarter since her friendship with Anna-Maria ended. When she reaches Campo di Ghetto Nuovo, she’s shocked by how authentically Venetian it still is, how little it’s changed all these years. There are still tourists, of course, and it’s brimming with souvenir shops, but most of the people in the square are obviously locals. There are children everywhere, kicking footballs and riding scooters. It fills her heart to find a part of Venice where Italians still live.
The old men still sit under the canopies and have an ombra, just like they used to when she was young. This reminds her to tell Sophie, who loves to know the meaning behind everything, that ‘ombra’ means shade, but it’s also the Venetian word for a small glass of wine in the afternoon because the fishermen in the old days used to gather under the shade of the clock tower when their work for the day was done, and a man would be waiting with his wine cart to serve them a drink. This thought distracts her until she arrives at Anna-Maria’s apartment building, where she says a quick prayer to the Blessed Virgin before she begins the long climb up the concrete stairs to the fourth floor.
Loretta rarely cries – it’s never been who she is – but this week she’s shed more tears than she has in years. When Anna-Maria opens her front door and Loretta sees how the grief has ravaged her friend, her tears start up again.
Anna-Maria’s eyes widen. ‘Loretta Bianchi? It’s really you?’
‘Mi dispiace, mi dispiace,’ Loretta sobs as Anna-Maria gathers her in her arms.
Anna-Maria welcomes Loretta into her home with a grace and kindness she doesn’t deserve. ‘What are you doing here?’ Anna-Maria says once they’re sitting in the lounge room that’s barely changed in all these years.
‘I want to help you and Elena with the escape.’
Anna-Maria’s eyes bulge. ‘How do you know?’
‘She asked us to help her.’
‘She came to you to ask for help?’
‘They’re staying with us.’
Anna-Maria’s jaw drops. ‘She didn’t say. There’s so much I don’t know.’ She begins to weep.
Loretta cries with her while they talk about Anna-Maria’s dead son and her dead husband, and about her daughter who has married an evil man, about the friendship they’ve lost and the years they’ve missed.
Loretta tells Anna-Maria of the plan for Elena’s escape, which will take place while Christian’s at the meeting for the protest of La Befana , and of the fake pregnancy.
Anna-Maria covers her face with her hands. ‘He’ll never stop looking for her if he believes she’s carrying his child!’
Loretta reaches for Anna-Maria’s hand. ‘I’m scared for you. I told the others we should call the police.’
‘I told her that on the phone too, but she insists on doing it her way. They’re coming for dinner tonight. I’ll try and convince her again if I get a chance, but he doesn’t give us a second alone.’ Anna-Maria picks at imaginary fluff on her black pants. ‘I don’t want to leave Venice.’
‘I don’t understand why you have to go too?’
‘She says it will be dangerous for me to stay.’
‘But there are many of us who could hide you from him until he leaves,’ Loretta insists.
Anna-Maria tilts her head. ‘Would you let your daughter go alone?’
Loretta sighs. ‘No.’
Before she leaves, Loretta helps Anna-Maria the only way she can, by pulling an envelope out of her handbag.
Anna-Maria looks inside the envelope and gasps. ‘Loretta, what is this? Sei pazza.’
‘It’s nothing.’
Anna-Maria tries to give her back the envelope, but Loretta holds down her hand. ‘I remember what it was like not to have much money. These days, I have it to spare. Let me help you. It’s my way to try and make it up to you for the terrible friend I’ve been.’
‘You don’t need to make it up to me. I love you, I always have.’ Anna-Maria tearfully holds the five thousand euro to her chest. ‘Grazie.’
Loretta looks at her watch. ‘I have to go. They’ll have a stroke if I’m not back before dinner.’
‘Tell me, how is dear Alberto?’ Anna-Maria holds open the door for her.
‘That’s a story for another day.’ Loretta reaches for Anna-Maria and hugs her fiercely. ‘Anything you need, I’m here for you, I promise.’
‘You’re a good woman, Loretta.’
‘Hardly.’ She quickly leaves before she cries again.