Chapter 38 #2
Leaning against the balustrade, Jamie watched as a gondola emerged from beneath the bridge. Keeping his gaze fixed on the gondolier as he skilfully steered to the left to avoid another one approaching from the opposite direction, he said, ‘So what did Leon say to you in his letter?’
A rush of heat ran through Fen’s body, and she was glad he wasn’t looking at her. When she hesitated, Jamie went on, ‘Sorry, is that too personal? You don’t have to tell me.’
He wanted to know because he was curious, just as she wanted to know what was in the letter Leon had written to him. But how could she tell him without putting herself – no, without putting both of them – in a potentially mortifying situation?
Just because Leon had decided something might be a good idea didn’t mean Jamie felt the same way.
And that was if Leon had even mentioned it in Jamie’s letter. He might well not have done. God, imagine telling Jamie the plan and seeing the look of dawning horror on his face.
‘It was a wonderful letter. It sounded exactly like him.’ Fen smiled, because each time she read it was like hearing his voice again.
‘He hopes I’m still missing him, but not too much.
And he wants me to be happy.’ Two small children in the second gondola were waving madly up at her, and she waved back, glad of the distraction.
‘He says I mustn’t feel guilty . . . you know, if I meet someone else. Because it’s OK to move on.’
Jamie slowly nodded. ‘Of course it is. But good of him to say that. And has it helped, d’you think?’
She waved again, but this time at the driver of a small motorboat, who hadn’t waved at her first and who didn’t wave back. ‘I think it has. I mean, not that I’ve been going out on dates with dozens of men and feeling guilty about it.’
‘Have you been out on any dates at all?’
The only man she’d been anywhere with was him, and none of those occasions had been a date. She shook her head. ‘None. No men, no dates.’
‘But when it does happen, you know you won’t need to feel guilty. Also, why did you wave at that guy then?’
Bugger. ‘I thought I recognised him from last year. But he didn’t recognise me. So I probably didn’t.’ Listen to me, improvising like a boss. ‘Anyway, what did he say to you?’
It was Jamie’s turn to look mystified. ‘Who?’
‘Leon.’
‘When?’
‘When d’you think?’ Fen gestured in the direction of the letter, which was in his wallet. Which was in the front pocket of his black trousers. Which was probably giving quite the wrong impression. ‘When he wrote the letter!’
He visibly exhaled, probably with relief.
‘Sorry. Couldn’t work out what you meant.
Um, pretty much the same kind of thing. Hang on, let me have a look at the map.
We could be close to that sculpture park you wanted to visit.
’ Evidently keen to change the subject – did that mean Leon had mentioned her and the prospect was truly appalling?
– he was now gazing intently at his phone.
‘Here we are, it’s called the Giardini della Marinaressa.
If we follow this canal to the end and turn left, it’s only a few hundred yards away.
We can—’ A reminder flashed up on the screen.
‘Damn, I need to get back to the hotel for an interview over Zoom. Completely forgot, and it starts in ten minutes. We’ll have to visit the sculptures tomorrow. ’
Then again, how interested was he in looking at modern art, really? Fen said, ‘You do your thing, I’ll go to the gardens on my own. We’ll catch up later after you’ve finished.’
‘If you’re sure. Sorry about this.’ He was already turning in the direction of the hotel.
‘Wait, is it for TV?’
Jamie stopped and nodded, and Fen beckoned to him. ‘Come here, let me sort you out.’
He wasn’t vain. It probably wouldn’t have occurred to him to look in a mirror before beginning the Zoom call, but his dark hair was sticking out on one side from the sea breeze and the collar of his blue and white striped shirt was wonky.
As he stood before her, she efficiently straightened his collar and smoothed down the wayward section of hair. ‘There, that’s better.’
He grinned. ‘Will I do?’
‘Have another quick check when you get back to your room. And try not to say fuck on TV.’ She couldn’t resist it; this was what Leon had always jokingly reminded him when Jamie had been about to appear on a live broadcast.
‘Thanks. I’ll do my best.’ He laughed, then turned and headed off.
Leaving her experiencing a belated buzz of adrenalin at the realisation that this was the first time she’d ever touched his hair. And his shirt collar.
But mainly his hair.
Cupping her hand over her nose and mouth, she breathed in to see if she could smell his shampoo, and was almost convinced she could.
The gardens were in the Castello district, situated next to a broad promenade running alongside the waterfront.
Shaded by mature pines, the park was dotted with an assortment of modern sculptures, some abstract in design, others less so.
There was a giant white rabbit clutching an equally enormous shiny turquoise egg, a smaller elephant with gold eyes and tusks.
There was also an installation that could have been mistaken for a children’s climbing frame, a brightly coloured globe on a plinth, and a terrifying mythical creature that was half warrior, half rhinoceros.
It was a small collection that didn’t take long to explore.
As she made her way along one of the narrow paths, Fen smiled at an elderly woman occupying a wooden bench, then belatedly realised there was a cat curled up on her lap.
Without thinking, she exclaimed, ‘What a beautiful cat!’ Then hastily added, ‘Scusi, I mean . . . bella gatto?’ Or was it bellissima? That was probably wrong too.
‘It’s all right, I’m British.’ The woman nodded in response. ‘And yes, he is beautiful. Thank you.’
She had a slight northern accent, Yorkshire at a guess, and was smoothing the cat’s glossy black coat from head to tail, over and over with a bony hand. Fen said, ‘Phew, my Italian’s rubbish. Look at his face, though! What’s his name?’
‘Merlin.’
‘He really is incredibly handsome. And that’s such a good name for him.
Where are you from?’ Busy gazing into Merlin’s hypnotic pale green eyes, it took her a few seconds to realise the woman was struggling to control her emotions.
It wasn’t until she replied, ‘York,’ with a quaver in her voice, that Fen saw the tears rolling down her thin cheeks.
‘Are you OK? Sorry, what a stupid question.’ She spotted the shredded tissue in the woman’s other hand and pulled a packet of fresh ones from her own bag. Offering it, she said, ‘Is he ill?’
The woman shook her head wearily and accepted the pack of tissues with a trembling hand. ‘It’s not been the best day.’
How many times during the last year had Fen been overwhelmed with emotion and desperate for a kind word or even a sympathetic smile from a stranger?
How often had people simply looked the other way and walked on by?
She sat down on the bench next to the woman.
‘Would it help to talk about it? Only if you want to. If you’d rather be on your own, I’ll leave you in peace. ’
‘Bless you, love. That’s kind of you. My name’s Hannah, by the way.’
‘And I’m Fen.’
‘It’s been just the two of us, you see. For the last five years.
’ Hannah carried on rhythmically stroking Merlin, who responded by pressing his sleek head into the curve of her palm.
‘I took him in as a kitten. He’s fit and well, and so loving.
I’m the one who’s ill.’ Another tear leaked out.
‘I’m not crying for myself, I promise. I just can’t bear the thought of leaving him behind.
And I’ve asked around, but there’s no one willing to take him.
The doctor at the hospital told me it’s time to get my affairs in order, and I’ve done that already, but who’s going to love Merlin when I’m gone?
He won’t know where I am, poor darling.’ Her voice began to waver again, and she shook her head helplessly.
‘I can’t bear the idea of him searching for me .
. . Every time I think of it, it b-breaks my h-h-heart. ’
‘I’m so sorry.’ Fen embraced her and felt the woman’s ribs judder as she sobbed in her arms. ‘No wonder you’re worried. But he’s such a handsome boy, and there must be places that’ll look after him until they can find someone—’
‘I know, I know, but I want to know who’ll be taking my place. Because what if they’re not the right people for Merlin? OK, I know I’m being overdramatic and you probably think I’m ridiculous,’ Hannah hiccuped, ‘but he’s all I care about. I love him.’
Fen hugged her tighter. ‘Of course you do.’
Hannah’s tears of despair dripped onto the front of Fen’s dress as she fumbled for another tissue. ‘I just love him so much.’