Chapter 41
In the end it’s Gris— no, Grace – who wakes me. ‘Sun will be up soon,’ she whispers, poking my side until I twitch a hand in surrender.
I burrow deeper under the covers. I don’t want to move. Don’t want this to be my last day with Leo. If I keep my eyes shut, maybe it won’t be.
‘Evie!’ Two feet plant themselves on my back and shove me straight on to the cold floor.
Grumbling, I tug on yesterday’s clothes, grab my washbag and stumble into the bathroom. Quick splash, proper toothbrushing – because, hello, kissing – then I cup my mouth to Leo’s door. ‘Pope oeeee.’
There’s a rustle, a thud, and then he’s there, all cosy and half-asleep.
‘Want to sneak out and go for a walk?’ I don’t say last, but the word hangs there anyway.
He nods, eyebrows straight and serious. ‘Meet you downstairs in five.’
At the door, he snatches his puffa jacket – only instead of pulling it on, he swings it around my shoulders. The thing swallows me whole. He laughs, and I’ve never been warmer.
We step out into the quiet, the city still dark, everyone still dreaming.
Fingers laced, we set off. I think we’re heading to see the sun rise over the lagoon again. Or, more accurately, a brighter patch of mist on the horizon. But it soon becomes clear Leo’s on a mission.
‘I couldn’t sleep last night,’ he says, swinging our arms. ‘I thought of a place you need to see and hated that I might not get to take you. So we’re going now. No arguments.’
‘Okaaay. Tell me more.’
‘There is a story, actually – a Venetian legend, a bit like your Scottish ones.’
That perks me right up. ‘Yes please.’
‘Ever heard of Melusina?’
I shake my head.
‘Well. A fisherman pulled up his nets one night and found a mermaid begging him to free her. They fell in love and agreed to be together on one condition – he couldn’t see her on Saturdays.’
‘Like a mates before dates rule?’
Leo laughs. ‘He broke the promise.’
I roll my eyes. ‘Typical.’
‘—and she was cursed to turn into a snake … unless they married. They did, and had children. But Melusina fell ill and died.’
I let out a small mewl. ‘That had better not be the end.’
He drops a kiss to the top of my head before continuing.
‘Strangely, though, every night when the fisherman came home, the house was clean and the children were cared for.’
‘Yay!’ I grin.
‘Until one evening …’
‘Uh-oh.’
‘… he found a snake in the kitchen and killed it, realizing only too late, it was Melusina in her animal form.’
‘Right. And I thought Scottish folktales had the monopoly on eerie and uncanny.’
‘This sottoportego,’ he says as the story ends, ‘is where they used to live.’
We duck under an arch and into the passageway. Leo opens his phone torch to show me a small red brick carved into the shape of a heart.
‘They say Melusina left this as a reminder. And if you touch it with someone you …’ He hesitates, eyes searching mine.
‘Someone you … blank?’ I prompt, my pulse skittering fast and uneven.
‘Exactly. Someone you blank … it will last forever.’
He lays his hand on the heart and I add mine to his. It’s exactly the kind of moment you’d get arrested for not sealing with a kiss.
When we break apart, I fumble for my phone.
‘Sorry. I need to immortalize this.’ I snap the red-brick heart from a few different angles, but the photos look flat and ordinary compared to my maxed-out feelings.
My fingers itch to start a new collage anyway – Melusina, the heart, us.
Maybe that way I can hold on to this fullness a little longer.
Another hour passes before we end up near the market and find a bar that’s already open for the first stallholders.
I grab a cappuccino while Leo orders an espresso and a couple of warm brioches to share.
‘Did you see @Agatheia’s ink work on the app?’ he asks through a mouthful of pastry.
I nod. ‘Yeah. Must have taken days!’
‘Not as long as her last one though.’ Leo scrolls to the one he means.
‘We’ll keep posting there, right?’
‘Always.’ He shrugs, like it’s obvious. ‘You’d be missed if you didn’t.’
‘Ha! You think?’
‘Definitely. A few people DM’d after I shared the San Marco piece, all saying “about time!”.’
I brush a few pastry flakes from the table. ‘I kind of notice when people go quiet. Do you think they’d pick up on it if we both posted the same thing?’
‘What do you mean?’
I pull up two photos – one of his final float and one of mine. I make a simple collage with the two shots side by side and send it to Leo.
‘Share at the same time?’ I ask.
He grins, then counts us in. ‘One, two, three.’
We tap.
I pick up my cappuccino, the hiss of the coffee machine filling the gaps as we watch the hearts and comments trickle in.
‘Look.’ Leo shows me a comment.
@NeonInk: Anyone else seeing double?
@PixelQueen: Guys. It’s a Sketchy & Rebel collab!
@artbyjorge: Did you meet on here? If yes, how?
Leo wiggles his brows. ‘Someone else must be having the same blanks we did.’
I laugh, then sober when I get a text from Grace.
You should probably come back, everyone’s up. Silvia’s just arrived.
I show Leo the message. ‘Silvia’s there and it’s barely 7 a.m. That can’t be good, can it?’
We drag ourselves back, reluctantly, stopping every now and then to share a last kiss … then a few more, until we’re at the palazzo and our private bubble bursts.
‘See,’ Grace says as we walk in. ‘Told you they’d just popped out for breakfast.’
Everyone’s here.
Mum and Dad are swooning over their espressos like they’ve never tasted proper coffee before. Leo’s parents are at the kitchen island with Silvia, heads bent over a spread of papers.
‘We’ve had time to talk about things,’ Silvia says, sifting through the pile as she speaks. ‘And to think carefully about what happens next.’
She lifts a thick, cream-coloured sheet and holds it up.
My breath catches.
The certificate.
The real thing – the InterSTEAM logo stamped across the bottom and everything.
‘We want to give you this,’ Silvia continues. ‘But your … let’s say, less than honest choices … will have consequences.’
For a horrible second I think this is as far as it goes.
‘It just so happens that one of the committee members runs a media arts centre here in Venice. After watching the parade, he thought you could be of use. You are to intern there this summer – assisting with their children’s programme.’
I stare at her. ‘That’s … the consequence?’
‘For free,’ Veronica adds, as if that’s the kicker.
But the buzz doesn’t fade. I’ll be coming back to Venice. Back to Leo. I’ll have a certificate and work experience. In art!
I brace for Mum and Dad to object, but they look kind of … on board. The sort of on board that also means I’ll be emptying the dishwasher until I leave home.
‘You won’t be living in the lap of luxury,’ Dad warns. ‘The accommodation’s provided, but it’s in a student dorm that frees up over summer. And you’ll have to work extra shifts at the cinema for your spending money.’
A small smile breaks through Silvia’s serious expression as she catches on to my excitement. ‘It’s no walk in the park. Some assistants have quit after the first day. It gets a bit … chaotic. And the parents are often high-maintenance.’
That does it. I launch myself at Mum and Dad first, hugging them tight, before thanking the others with a touch more restraint.
Silvia gives me a wry look. ‘I’m sure your parents will be more careful about what they sign in future.’
Jacopo’s mum appears in the doorway, holding a neat stack of clothes.
With a wink, she pulls Leo’s hoodie off the pile and passes it straight to me, like she’s noticed it’s already become mine and wants me to take it with me.
Then she presses the rest into my arms – neatly ironed T-shirts, and some small, folded squares I vaguely recognize.
My stomach drops. The underwear I left on the radiator.
Uh-oh. Too late.
Leo smirks. ‘Once you try ironed underwear, you can’t go back.’
‘Shut up,’ I mutter, stuffing the offending items deep into my backpack.
Around us, everyone’s gathering their things, the room suddenly full of movement. And I realize … this is it. Time to go.
Leo’s long, drawn-out sigh syncs with mine.
He takes my bag and slings it on to his shoulder.
‘Jacopo and I are coming with you to the station. Catrìn’s too small for everyone, so we thought we could all get the vaporetto together.
It actually takes longer than walking,’ he whispers. ‘So we get a bit more time together.’