Chapter 5
‘I don’t think the lady wants to dance tonight.’
Gina’s head snapped up as she heard a deep, commanding voice, and another man appeared framed in the sotoportego . He was dressed as an aristocrat in a deep red velvet outfit trimmed with gold brocade, and a matching cape. He wore white knee-length stockings with white gloves covering his hands, and he carried a jewel-topped walking stick as a sceptre. But it was his mask that was most striking – a golden bear, its mouth open in a snarl, that somehow seemed to match his tall, muscular frame.
The men stumbled to a halt, their unpleasant dance interrupted. ‘Who are you, the fun police? Everything’s fine. We were all enjoying ourselves weren’t we, bella donna ?’
Gina’s eyes flashed with fury. ‘Speak for yourselves.’
One of the others shrugged and hiccupped. ‘We were just leaving, weren’t we?’
The three men turned and stumbled back the way they’d come, as the newcomer stood aside to let them through. Gina’s heart was thumping, but she didn’t want to betray any sign of her distress.
‘Are you OK?’ the man asked. His accent sounded local, his voice low and mellifluous.
‘Perfectly,’ Gina shot back. ‘I can look after myself.’
The man paused, then bowed. ‘As long as you’re all right, signora. Forgive my misunderstanding. Enjoy the Carnival.’
Gina found herself meeting the blue eyes behind the mask and for a moment there was a connection, almost as if she recognized the man beneath, which she knew was absurd. But before she could speak, he turned and swept away, his red cape sweeping in a circle as he strode quickly away. Gina was assailed by emotions: anger at herself for ending up in such a vulnerable position, and relief that the three men had gone; but a surprising regret that she’d been so impolite to the man in the bear mask.
‘Hey,’ she called out, setting off at a pace. A few steps ahead, she saw the man’s cape disappear round a corner. The streets were busier once more, and the crowds closed around him. It suddenly felt imperative that she apologize, and Gina pushed through the throng to reach him.
‘Hey,’ she shouted again. ‘Excuse me.’ She stretched out her arm and managed to reach him with her fingertips. He whirled round, and for a moment they regarded each other. Gina couldn’t read his expression behind his mask, but she could see him watching her.
‘Hello,’ he said evenly. ‘I would say “Can I help you?”, but I know you can look after yourself.’
Beneath her mask, Gina’s cheeks burned. ‘I’m sorry for the way I spoke. I was … a bit disoriented.’
‘That’s understandable.’ He inclined his head. ‘But you should never go wandering down dark alleys like that. Stick to the tourist routes.’
‘I’m not a tourist,’ she shot back hotly, without thinking what she was saying.
‘A Venetian?’ He sounded surprised. ‘A rarity, what were you doing wandering through the back alleys?’
‘I’m not a Venetian either.’
‘No? Then …?’
‘It doesn’t matter.’ Gina shook her head, now feeling foolish for having run after him. ‘I just wanted to apologize for forgetting my manners. Buona notte, signore .’ She turned to leave, but at that moment there was an enormous boom, like a cannon firing, and a wave of cheers rippled across the city.
‘The parade’s starting,’ the man said, calmly.
Gina swore under her breath, cursing herself for losing track of time and drifting so far from the main square. ‘It’ll be impossible to get a good view now.’
The man paused for a fraction of a second. ‘Come with me,’ he said confidently, taking hold of her hand and pulling her through the crowd.
This time, Gina didn’t hesitate, adrenaline shooting through her as she let herself be led through the streets, her palm in his. For a second, she wondered what on earth she was doing, but there was something about him that seemed innately honourable, and Gina had learned to trust her instincts.
He guided her along alleyways and over bridges, before finally turning down the side of what looked like an abandoned church and climbing a staircase at the back of the building.
‘Up here.’
She followed him up the twisting staircase and they emerged onto a wide strip of flat rooftop, nestled amongst the terracotta tiles that stretched away across the city. The terrace itself was magnificent, with dark wooden floorboards, a crumbling stone wall, and a balustrade balcony over which ivy and wisteria ran riot. The paint was peeling, and the flora was out of control, but the terrace had huge potential and gave off an air of faded grandeur.
The most spectacular part, however, was the view: from here they had an uninterrupted vista over the Grand Canal, looking right across the water to the iconic church of Santa Maria della Salute, and the Punta della Dogana museum beside it. Beyond, Gina could see the White Palace Hotel, a beacon of light emerging from the lagoon on its own private island. A procession of boats was snaking along the S-shaped canal in a profusion of colour and light, as classical music carried on the night air and a full moon hung low in the cloudless sky.
‘Oh my,’ Gina breathed. She was thinking how incredible her VIP guests would find this secluded spot – it was utterly perfect for a romantic sunset dinner. ‘How did you discover this place? I’ve lived here for many years but had no idea it was here.’
‘The city has many secrets. She’ll never reveal them all to one person.’
Gina thought about his words. It was true that the city, despite the millions of tourists that visited each year, had its secret places – hidden alleyways, mysterious passages, darker mysteries that would never be revealed – but that was all right, because people had secrets too, she thought, shivering slightly.
‘Are you cold?’ the man asked.
‘Only a little …’
The man took off his cape and wrapped it around her shoulders. Gina was touched by the old-fashioned gesture.
‘Now you’ll be cold,’ she joked.
‘ I know I have lived because I have felt ,’ he said in reply, his tone playful.
Gina caught her breath. He was quoting Casanova; she recognized the words instantly. ‘ I know likewise that I shall exist no more when I have ceased to feel .’ The words were out of her mouth before she could stop them.
He turned to her, staring at her intently from behind his mask. Gina’s heart was thumping. Who was this mysterious man who had appeared out of thin air to rescue her, who took her to a place she’d never even heard about in her own city and spoke the words of the legendary Giacomo Casanova?
A firework whistled into the night sky, breaking the spell of the moment, exploding into a thousand shimmering stars that illuminated the city then faded to blackness. It was followed by dozens more, and the two of them sat side by side on two abandoned crates, happiness flooding through Gina as she watched the display. It was so magical – like something out of a film – that she almost wanted to laugh.
‘It’s astonishing to think that some form of Carnival has been happening in Venice for almost a thousand years,’ the man said, without taking his eyes from the sky.
‘That’s why the city feels so timeless. I hope it’s still happening for another thousand years.’
‘It’ll likely be underwater by then,’ he said sadly.
‘Don’t say that. I don’t want to think about it. Venice is unique, I can’t bear to think of it not being here any more.’
‘You love the city, don’t you?’ He turned to her, his eyes warm.
‘Yes. I adore it.’
‘So do I, although I’m not a native Venetian either. It’s as if the city has adopted me.’
‘That’s exactly how it feels,’ Gina agreed. ‘She gets hold of your heart and won’t let go.’
‘I love everything about it – even the freezing fog in winter and the stench of the sewage in high summer.’
‘It’s like we’re having a love affair with the city.’ Gina laughed lightly, but she was thinking of the man’s words; how he spoke so easily of love and had no fear of expressing his emotions. She felt so comfortable with him. Perhaps they’d known one another in a past life, she thought with amusement, the two of them attending Carnival together centuries ago, dressed almost identically to the way they were now.
Gina found herself imagining what the man looked like, then wondered why it mattered. What would he think of her if he saw her? And why did she care so much what a stranger thought?
For a crazy moment, Gina thought about removing her mask and asking him to do the same. She imagined he would have a kind expression, a trace of stubble along his jawline, and full, soft lips …
Bells rang out over the rooftops, as St Mark’s Clock Tower struck two minutes to midnight. Gina jumped up in alarm. ‘I didn’t realize how late it was. I have to leave.’
‘You’re just like Cinderella,’ the man laughed, but Gina was too flustered to acknowledge his comment. She couldn’t believe how swiftly the time had flown, nor how unprofessional she’d been to abandon the guests and leave Vittoria to deal with everything by herself. And now she would be late for the boat.
She headed for the stairs, but the man’s voice stopped her.
‘You don’t know the way. I’ll take you.’
‘Thank you.’
He clattered down the steps ahead of her, his boots heavy, his large frame solid and reassuring as Gina followed him. They encountered the crowds just a few streets away, and once again he took her hand to ensure they weren’t separated. Gina held on tightly, enjoying the sensation of his warm palm enfolding her own.
St Mark’s Square was heaving, the atmosphere feverish as the clocks struck midnight and the intoxicated revellers made the most of the celebrations.
‘I have to go now,’ Gina said. ‘But thank you for … everything, it’s been an unforgettable night. I don’t even know your name.’
‘I’m—’
Gina was jostled from behind by a group of revellers, her hand slipping from his. When she recovered her balance, she couldn’t see the man anywhere. She whirled around, hoping desperately for a glimpse of red and gold, and realized she was still wearing his cape. She stroked it softly, feeling unexpectedly crestfallen, a sensation which was swiftly followed by foolishness. The man had been little more than a stranger; no doubt she’d imagined a connection that wasn’t really there.
She didn’t even know his name, and would likely never see him again.
With one final, hopeful scan of the crowd, Gina turned and made her way back to the boat, finding herself smiling.
Still just a romantic dreamer, Gina . That’s what her mother would say to her now. But her mother wasn’t here.
It was only when she got back to the boat that Gina realized her bracelet was missing.