Chapter 1 #2
‘But – but—’ She tried to focus and make sense of the frantic thoughts running through her head.
She took a deep breath, trying to calm her brain.
She needed to think logically. ‘Can’t the gallery do something?
Can you argue with them that my position is needed?
I was planning that amazing Giorgione exhibition. ’
Giorgione was a Venetian painter well known in academic circles but not so much by the public. Beth had hoped to shine a light on him and his work during the height of the summer season.
‘Believe me I’ve already tried. I answered the email as soon as I read it, and they’ve come back this morning to say no.
There’s nothing they can do, and we don’t have the money to pay you.
We barely have enough to pay the essential staff and run the building or do the conservation we need.
You know the paintings have to come first. I wish there was something more I could do. ’
Essential staff. That was the problem with a career in the arts.
It was never seen as important enough and people who worked in it were never considered ‘essential’ even though museums and galleries taught people so much about the world and its history and protected important artefacts for future generations to enjoy.
Beth’s teeth were in danger of chattering as cold shivered through her bones.
Her nerves roiled like she’d been picked up and tipped upside down.
She felt discombobulated, her brain struggling to process what Signor Sanna had said.
It was like when you stepped off a roller coaster and your legs, arms, brain and torso couldn’t connect or work together.
She tried to think logically, to make a plan, but her synapses were working too slowly.
After a second, her brain began to pick snippets of information from the jumble and the stark facts floated to the surface just enough for her to focus on one thing.
‘So I’m out of a job?’ She’d thought the secondment would lead on to something more – a permanent position here or at a different Venetian gallery. Now she wasn’t just out of a job, but her future prospects had also disappeared.
Signor Sanna sighed heavily. ‘I’m afraid so.’
‘So what happens now?’
Her apartment was paid for as part of the secondment but that too would be rescinded.
She’d have to move out and while a change of job would have necessitated that anyway, she now only had weeks rather than months.
As panic rose, it seemed her options were to find somewhere else to live or return home to England. And when? When would she have to move?
As if pre-empting her question, Signor Sanna said, ‘I’ve told them they can’t expect you to leave straight away. They’ve agreed to give you four weeks to make arrangements.’
‘Four weeks?’ It came out in a high-pitched squeak. And what did arrangements mean?
To them it meant packing up her things and arranging a flight home, but to her it meant the end of her dream.
The end of the life she was building for herself here.
It wasn’t a perfect life, far from it. She still preferred books to people and hadn’t really dated any of the gorgeous Italian men all around her.
And she hadn’t explored the city fully or its beautiful surrounding islands, but she had friends.
She’d only just summoned up the courage to join her local rowing club and she didn’t want to let that go.
There was still so much for her to see and do here.
She wished she’d prioritised herself and her life, instead of putting her career first all the time.
Signor Sanna reached his hand out, and like a robot she moved hers from her lap and slipped it into his.
‘I am so sorry, Beth. I wish there was something more I could do.’ He patted her hand in a fatherly fashion, and she gave a pathetic smile, his face blurring as tears sprang to her eyes.
She stared at the ceiling, forcing them back, her jaw aching with the effort.
‘You will still come to the masquerade ball though, won’t you?
Even if you have to come back for it. You enjoyed it so much last year and it seems only fair given the work you’ve done this last year. ’
The grand event, held at the galleria, was part of Carnevale and she’d loved wearing a fancy dress and sipping champagne. She’d felt like she’d made it. A soirée in a famous Venetian gallery, in the most historic, beautiful city in the world. And now her career had halted and her time here ended.
‘Umm … yes, probably. I …’ Her words faded, unable to form a sentence or think that far ahead.
‘Why don’t you take the rest of the day off? This is a lot to think about, and I cannot ask you to work today.’
Part of her wanted to work, to stay and stare at the paintings and surround herself with the art she loved so much for as long as she was able to.
The worst part of her job was giving tours – she much preferred to be behind the scenes – and she definitely couldn’t face standing in front of people, citing the genius and craftsmanship that went into every painting knowing that she’d soon be forced to return to England.
If anyone asked her a question, she’d probably just cry.
As if reading her mind, Signor Sanna said, ‘I can do your tour this afternoon. It’s no problem.’
‘Are you sure?’ Her voice wavered as she struggled to keep her emotions in check and Signor Sanna nodded.
‘Go and have a strong coffee at Giambattista’s. You will feel better. I’m so sorry, Beth. I wish there was more I could do.’
‘I know there isn’t. And this isn’t your fault. You’ve been lovely, Signor. You’ve taught me so much and I’m so grateful for your help. I appreciate you getting me four more weeks.’
‘If I could make them change their minds, I would. We will all miss you very much. Now go. This is a big shock. Take some time. Take as much time as you need. I will help you in any way I can.’
His grip loosened and she slid her hand away as she stood, gathering her coat and trying not to look at him. Her legs were like jelly as she moved, and she worried she might actually fall. When she got to the door, she held it tightly and she flashed him a weak smile before closing it behind her.
Her heart pounded, blood thudding in her ears as she tried to deal with what had just happened.
Queasiness reached up from her stomach into her throat and after a few unstable steps, she leaned against the wall, tears beginning to escape.
She quickly brushed them away. Beth didn’t like anyone to see her cry.
She only did it in front of people she really knew and who knew her in return.
She focused on her breathing and took a deep, shaky breath in, held it for a second and squeezed her eyes shut as she let it out slowly.
After a few more breaths, the tears had dried, and she was able to move again.
Now open to the public, the gallery was growing busier.
Members of staff chatted with tourists eager to learn about the treasures inside.
Treasures she’d be guardian of no more. She was being sent home like a naughty schoolgirl.
Deep down she knew it wasn’t a reflection on her or her abilities, that it was all to do with money and other people’s choices, but it didn’t stop it hurting and in some ways, the feeling of helplessness made it even worse.
There was nothing she could do to affect this decision. It was made and confirmed. A done deal.
Fumbling, she threw on her coat, felt her wallet and keys in the pocket and headed back downstairs. Her book, she realised, was still in Signor Sanna’s room where she’d left it by her chair.
‘Ah,’ Antonia said, ‘there you are. I was— Beth! Is everything—’
‘Sorry, I need to go home.’ She carried on rushing past her, keeping her head down as her nose stung.
Her long hair still irritatingly tickled her cheek but at least it hid some of her face and the tears once more threatening to overtake her.
‘Signor Sanna’s covering my tour. I’ll see you tomorrow. ’
The heavy, dark wooden doors had been pinned open, and the chill air hit her as she made her way outside.
This time, she didn’t look at the buildings on the familiar route or enjoy the sights around her.
Dodging through the crowd, she didn’t stop walking until she was more than a few streets away.
That familiar smell of salt water filled her nose and, as she stared at the uneven, paved streets, her heart burned with pain.
It was over.
This job.
This city.
This life.
It was all over.