Chapter 12
They ran, Gina’s hand in Marco’s as he led the way, his tall, muscular frame carving a path through the crowds. They were laughing and giddy, like mischievous children, as they clattered down the stone steps in front of the opera house.
Outside in the piazza, the cold, damp air swirling around them, it was as though the spell had been broken. Their hands fell apart and self-consciousness crept in.
‘Poor Lucia,’ Gina said, in a rare moment of sympathy for the diva.
‘I’m sure she won’t be short of admirers.’
‘She seemed keen to have your attention,’ Gina teased.
‘She’s … hard to resist, but it is possible,’ Marco remarked. ‘If one tries hard enough.’
It had been raining while they were watching the performance, and water was still dripping from awnings and balconies. Gina sometimes thought that Venice was at its most spectacular after a rainfall, with the ancient buildings reflected in the puddles, and the pink light from the ornate lampposts shining on the flagstones. The clouds above were thick, obscuring the moon and threatening another shower.
‘Well, I’d better be heading back,’ Gina said, surprised to find that she felt reluctant.
‘To the hotel?’
Gina shook her head. ‘I’m going home. I live in Dorsoduro, near the university.’
‘I’ll walk with you.’
‘You don’t have to …’
‘It’s no problem. I’m in San Polo, so not far.’
‘OK … thank you.’
‘You can never be too careful,’ Marco said seriously. ‘Especially during Carnevale . There are all kinds of strange characters around.’
Gina thought back to the other night, and the uncomfortable encounter she’d had with the three costumed men. Then the mysterious hero had swooped in to save her, and the two of them had shared a magical evening. Gina couldn’t stop thinking about him, and she’d started to have the craziest idea … He’d been around Marco’s height and build, though it was difficult to tell with the costume, but no, that couldn’t be the case, the man she’d met at the carnival had blue eyes and Marco’s were brown, she was sure of it …
‘Did you go out for the opening night of Carnival?’ Gina asked as they walked through the quaint streets surrounding La Fenice, unsure what she wanted the answer to be.
‘Yes,’ Marco nodded, and Gina felt a jolt of adrenaline. ‘I went to the Enterprise Guild Ball.’
‘Oh,’ Gina replied, her excitement fading. Of course it hadn’t been him, however much she might have been secretly hoping it was. ‘Did you have a good time?’
‘Fine upstanding Venetians that they are, the Guild aren’t the most wildly exciting companions to have for Carnevale . I just wanted to go home to Daniela. Although afterwards I—’
He broke off as there was a flash of lightning followed by a deafening roll of thunder, and then the heavens opened. There were cries of alarm from party-goers in their elaborate costumes, and the streets emptied quickly as people ran for cover.
‘In here,’ Marco called, as Gina hastily followed him out of the rain and into a nearby bacaro . Inside it was dark and smoky, with round wooden tables and cosy velvet chairs, the interior dimly lit by candles. The place was packed, but Marco found one of the last remaining tables and the two of them squeezed into the cramped space, pressed closely beside one another. Their bodies were touching as they shrugged off their jackets, shaking the rain from their hair.
‘Let’s get a drink while the rain passes?’ Marco suggested. ‘Hopefully it’s just a shower.’
‘Sure,’ Gina agreed, as the waiter approached their table and the two of them ordered Spritzes, a traditional Venetian cocktail made with bitters and Prosecco, topped up with soda water.
‘So,’ Gina began, at the same time as Marco said, ‘Well.’
They both burst into laughter.
‘You go ahead,’ Marco said chivalrously.
‘I was going to ask how the movie’s coming along,’ Gina smiled.
‘It’s going to be pretty spectacular, from what I can tell.’
‘I wouldn’t expect anything less from Brad Redford.’
‘Exactly. The man’s a perfectionist. He’s incredible at what he does.’
‘You’ve worked with him before, right?’
‘Yeah, a few years ago. He’s a great guy – he wants the best, and doesn’t take any crap, but he’s incredibly professional and makes everyone feel important on set, from the director to the most junior runner.’
‘It’s a shame he had to leave early,’ Gina mused. ‘He must have been exhausted.’
‘I’d never have believed it – he always has so much energy, so much stamina. But I guess even Brad needs to rest sometimes.’
‘I’m sure Issy will take good care of him. She seems to have everything under control.’
‘Who does that remind me of?’ Marco grinned, as Gina sat back in her chair and stared at him, narrowing her eyes in thought. ‘What?’ Marco asked suspiciously.
‘You know what? When it’s dark, and I really squint, you do look a little like Brad Redford,’ Gina teased. ‘But only a bit. And only when the lighting’s really low.’
‘Yeah, but when the lights are on, I’m even better-looking,’ Marco said, and Gina burst out laughing, enjoying his sense of humour.
Marco peered out of the window, noticing the shrieking groups rushing past, and the couples huddled together beneath umbrellas. ‘It doesn’t look like the rain will be stopping anytime soon. Shall we order cicchetti ? I’m starving.’
‘Mmm, I’d love to.’
‘What do you like?’
‘Everything,’ Gina said honestly, making Marco laugh.
‘I’ll choose then,’ he said, speaking to the waiter. A few minutes later, two more Spritzes arrived, followed by little plates of fig and ricotta wrapped in prosciutto, grilled polenta topped with sardines, deep-fried meatballs, and marinated stuffed olives. Venice was famous for its cicchetti in the same way Spain was known for its tapas; both were traditional savoury dishes, made with local produce.
‘This is delicious,’ Gina groaned.
‘It’s not bad at all,’ Marco agreed. ‘But not quite as good as at L’Ombra. That place does the best cicchetti in the whole of Venice.’
Gina looked offended and shook her head vehemently. ‘No, Osteria del Portico, just off Campo Santa Margherita – when you taste their salted cod, it’s as though you’ve died and gone to heaven.’ Gina closed her eyes, her expression blissful at the memory.
Marco shrugged, looking unimpressed. ‘Any half-decent chef can make baccalà . At L’Ombra they serve the most exquisite mussels, baked with breadcrumbs and garlic and lemon, all washed down with a perfect glass of Soave from a tiny, family-run vineyard just outside Verona. There’s an idyllic view over the canal, out towards the lagoon. Whatever the season, it’s the most perfect place to lose yourself for an hour or two.’
‘It’s sounding more appealing by the minute,’ Gina smiled. ‘I think you might have convinced me.’
‘I’ll take you there one day,’ Marco promised, his eyes never leaving hers.
‘I’ll hold you to that,’ Gina told him boldly, the alcohol flowing through her blood and making her fearless.
A moment passed between them, a crackle of electricity in the air, before the people beside them got up to leave, breaking the moment as they squeezed past with profuse apologies.
‘Tell me all about yourself, Gina Bellini,’ Marco began, sitting back in his chair and staring at Gina. ‘Are you a true Venetian?’
Gina shook her head, ignoring the pangs of anxiety that always surfaced whenever she was asked about her background. She felt relaxed with Marco, and as though she didn’t want to have to hide herself from him. ‘I grew up in a village, in the mountains north of Milan.’
‘Why did you leave?’
‘Why did I leave my tiny, boring village for the most beautiful, exciting city in the world? Hmm, let me think …’
‘All right, point taken,’ Marco smiled. ‘Why Venice?’
‘I don’t know, exactly. I’d always been fascinated by the city, even as a child. It seemed like the most magical, incredible place. Perhaps I wanted to see for myself that it really existed. That there could really be so much beauty in the world.’
‘And was it everything you’d hoped for?’
‘Yes – and more. The city’s been very good to me. I sometimes wonder when my luck will run out.’
Marco’s forehead creased in confusion. ‘What do you mean?’
‘Oh, nothing,’ Gina waved away his words, worrying that she’d revealed too much. ‘Anyone would think themselves lucky to be here. Now it’s your turn.’
‘What do you want to know?’
Everything , Gina longed to reply. Tell me your hopes and dreams, your fears and passions … I want to know everything about you, Marco DiMaggio. But instead, she said, ‘How on earth did you end up as a stuntman?’
‘Fell into it by accident, if you’ll excuse the pun. I started off as an extra, then found I had a knack for jumping over cars. It’s thrilling, no doubt about it, but it’s all really down to planning and timing …’ Marco trailed off, taking a long slug of his drink.
‘What was the best job you worked on?’
‘I filmed one movie in Hawaii. The director and the star quit on day one and they took weeks to get another on board. I was just sitting around until it was sorted out. I couldn’t believe I was getting paid to lie in the sun.’
‘I can’t imagine you sitting around and doing nothing.’
Marco grinned. ‘You’re completely right. I took surfing lessons and hiked up the side of a volcano.’
Gina smiled, feeling pleased that she had read him so well. ‘You must miss your family, though, when you’re away,’ she pressed.
‘It goes with the job, but it never feels easy. I missed out on a lot from Daniela’s early years. Too much, in fact. I’ve definitely tried to make up for that in the last couple of years, taking jobs closer to home that don’t last more than a week or two. It’s rare that I travel out of Europe these days. I’ve been lucky to work with Elicotteri Conti – it means I can stay in Venice. The jobs aren’t as exciting – I spend more time piloting rich tourists around the lagoon, rather than doing stunt work – but it’s steady and reliable, and means I can be at home with my daughter.’
‘I guess your priorities shift as you get older.’
‘Hey, less of the old!’ Marco pretended to be offended but grinned good-naturedly as Gina blushed, realizing what she’d said.
‘I’m sorry, I meant—’
‘I know what you meant. It’s true. Your priorities do change. And I am getting older,’ he laughed. ‘But hopefully wiser too. I realize how lucky I am that I was accepted into my wife’s family business.’
‘Oh, I didn’t realize …’ Gina faltered as the pieces slotted into place. She didn’t want to think about the fact that he was married, but now she was confronted with the reality. ‘It’s good that you all get on so well.’
‘Kind of.’ Marco shrugged. ‘My father-in-law, Nicolò, is a great guy. I have a lot of respect for him – he’s a hard worker who took a risk when he founded the company, building it up from the ground, and now it’s extremely successful. My brother-in-law, Edoardo, on the other hand … Well, you’ve met him. He works behind the scenes and is a magician with a spanner – there’s nothing he doesn’t know about helicopters. But it’s the difference between being Brad Redford or being a faceless movie producer – one is in the spotlight, and the other is in the background, and Edoardo doesn’t always appreciate that.’
Gina nodded sympathetically, touched that Marco had confided in her. She’d opened up to him too, more than she had to anyone apart from Vittoria. Now she knew that there could never be anything more between them, and she felt unexpectedly disappointed by the realization.
Their glasses sat empty on the table in front of them, the cicchetti plates holding nothing more than crumbs. Marco glanced out of the window.
‘It looks as though the rain’s stopped.’
The streets were filling up again, the city sparkling beneath the streetlights as the droplets shimmered. Gina felt saddened that the evening was over; for a while, it had felt like just the two of them in their own private world, but now it was back to reality.
Marco insisted on settling the bill. ‘You can pay next time, when I take you to L’Ombra,’ he grinned, and Gina wondered whether he was being serious.
As he chivalrously helped her with her coat, she felt the warmth of his breath on her neck, his hands briefly brushing the bare skin of her shoulders. A stab of desire surged through her body, causing her to catch her breath, and she stepped away from him so quickly that she almost tripped.
Outside the smoky bar, the air was fresh and cool, and Gina felt that she could think more clearly. The two of them walked together through the streets, their pace unhurried as they continued to talk, until they came to the vaporetto stop. They were both crossing the Grand Canal but heading to different destinations. Gina’s boat arrived first, and she knew the evening was at end.
‘Thank you for tonight,’ she said carefully, hoping her face didn’t betray the complicated emotions raging through her.
‘You’re welcome. I had a wonderful time,’ Marco said softly, his eyes searching her face. ‘I’ll see you soon.’
Gina was swept along by the gaggle of people boarding the boat, heading inside and taking a window seat. Her eyes found Marco, standing on the jetty, tall and handsome and unmoving as the tourists flowed around him. She kept watching as the boat pulled away, her body aching with longing, her head filled with disappointment from the knowledge that they could never be together. Finally, she pulled her gaze away, turning around in her seat, determined to look forwards from now on instead of looking back.