Chapter 38
The air’s damp from an earlier shower, the kind that leaves the streets smelling of stone and salt, as Silvia and I cross the bridge to the osteria where my family are waiting. Veronica catches up with us as we head inside.
I spot them instantly. The vibe at their table is all wrong compared to the chatty buzz in the rest of the room. They’re sitting stiffly around a sharing platter of cured meats and cheeses, a small carafe of red wine and a bottle of sparkling water off to one side, the three glasses untouched.
Silvia must have got them settled with food and drink, but the backpacks stacked at their feet make the whole thing look more like a waiting room than a meal out.
Which, I suppose, is exactly what this is.
They’re waiting for me to tell them why they found me on a boat in Venice instead of in a lab in Florence.
It hurts to see them like this. I’ve missed them more than I’d let myself admit, and I want one of Dad’s bear hugs so badly …
but there’s a wall of lies stacked high between us – the phone camera that ‘wouldn’t work’, the calls I cut short, claiming bad signal, the boarding pass I faked, the emails I sent pretending to be Mum.
Where do I even start?
Griselda stays silent until we’re all seated, but the moment we are, she goes off like a firework. ‘You are unbelievable, Evie. Poor Paola, making all that effort—’
Dad cuts across her. ‘We’ll take it from here, Grace.’
She bristles, but backs down. And I feel the tiniest flicker of hope.
Then Dad turns to me. ‘Evie, love, I think you’ve got some explaining to do.’
Griselda jumps in again, sharper now. ‘Explaining! She’ll have to do more than that—’
Mum’s hand lands on her arm. ‘Let her speak.’
I almost throw out a sarcastic wow, you’re actually going to let me talk. But I bite my tongue. What I say now matters.
‘I …’ The words jam and all I manage is a pathetic, ‘It just … happened.’
‘Just happened?’ Griselda scoffs. ‘What? You tripped and landed on an art course 160 miles away?’
I wince. Trust Griselda to know the actual distance between Venice and Florence. But yes, that was an unhelpful thing to say. ‘How come you’re here?’ I counter, really not doing myself any favours.
‘I’ll tell you why they are in Venice,’ Silvia says, drily. ‘A colleague in Florence called me when your family couldn’t find you. He traced your application here. I told them you were safe and how to reach us.’
Her words spark something in me. I think back to this morning, when no one picked up – not Mum, not Dad, not even Griselda. Like their phones were switched off. They must have been on the plane.
I turned mine off so I could concentrate on the showcase. It’s still off now. There’ll be a flood of frantic calls and messages. The thought churns my stomach.
‘We had to get the express train,’ Griselda bites out, and I hear the subtext – it cost a fortune.
‘Evie …’ Dad waits until I meet his eye. ‘None of this explains why you lied to us.’
It’s his calm voice and steady look that does it.
‘I tried!’ The words burst out, messy, too fast. ‘I applied for the same science placement as Grace. Then I saw this one. So I lied, because I knew you’d never let me do it.’
‘That’s not true,’ Mum says quickly.
I hold her gaze. ‘You would have let me miss school for art?’
Mum fumbles. ‘It’s not that we don’t value art, Evie.
It’s just … we thought science would open more doors for you.
You’ve seen what it’s done for your sister.
You know your dad and I were never good at school.
’ A dull flush creeps up her neck as she glances at Silvia and Veronica.
I hate that she’s embarrassed to admit that in front of them.
‘You’re always on about a better life,’ I say.
‘But maybe better isn’t the same for everyone.
Dad switched jobs after Grandpa got ill.
Everyone knows carers have bad hours and bad pay.
The way he talks about it, you’d think he’s won the lottery.
The families he helps know he’s worth more than his payslip. Isn’t that right, Dad?’
‘That’s true,’ he says quietly. ‘It matters to me.’
‘See?’ I tell Griselda. ‘Your way isn’t the only way. It doesn’t have to be about money, or status, or what looks best on paper.’
Her chin jerks up. ‘So it’s wrong of me to want a successful career? To want to be comfortable in life?’
‘Not if that’s what you really want. The problem is you want it for me too. Success is different for everyone. Art makes me happy … it’s what I’m good at.’
My words ring in the silence that follows. Wow. I did not imagine I’d be having it out with my sister like this. I mean, her being here in Venice is totally beyond belief.
Mum rubs her eyes. ‘Right. I’m sure these ladies don’t want to listen to you two bickering.’ She turns to Dad. ‘Can we still get the train back to Florence?’ Then back to me again. ‘Do you need to pack?’
Panic skids through me. They want me to leave, now? But what about Leo? Will I even get to say goodbye? ‘Wait … I can’t go. My flight’s booked for tomorrow. From Venice.’
‘Actually,’ Dad says, ‘we booked you a new flight back with us. We have two double rooms at a B&B in Florence for the next two nights. It was supposed to be a nice surprise.’
The words hit both ways. They must have been excited about it: their first trip abroad, a secret surprise.
And I’ve ruined it. Guilt hits hard – but so does the idea of leaving now.
I can’t. Not when I haven’t even had the chance to talk to Leo properly.
Not when there’s so much unsaid – about Rebel, about us, about everything.
‘It’s late,’ Veronica says gently. ‘You must stay with us. We have plenty of space. And, frankly, a lot more to discuss.’