Chapter 16
Beth awoke the next morning after the best night’s sleep she’d had in ages.
The gentle splash of the water against the side of her building (the same she heard on her barge every day) was becoming a calming soundtrack to her life.
The sun began to stream in through the windows, and the sky was blue and cloudless.
Spring was on the way, the morning slightly warmer, buds emerging on the flowers and trees.
She took a deep breath, spinning in a circle, her arms out in her gorgeous bedroom, and promptly fell back onto the bed.
Okay, so it wasn’t quite big enough to pretend she was in her own musical, but it didn’t wipe the smile from her face.
After a quick breakfast, she headed for the gym.
She paused at the boathouse and considered going out on the water, but the idea of doing it alone was still a little too much. She decided to head into the gym instead and though she looked out for both Cesca and Marco, neither were to be found.
After a quick pit stop at her flat to change and pick up Polo, Beth went to the book barge, ready to paint every inch Cesca would allow her to.
As she’d expected, Cesca was already set up on the canal side working on cutting shelving from some wood she’d purchased.
They’d reused as much as they could, but the tatty cabinets Signor Balbo had kept for years would only go so far.
As Beth walked towards her, Cesca was sawing fiercely at a piece of wood, her face stern, and Beth had a feeling it wasn’t just because of the effort she was putting in.
She let Polo out of his carry case and after a stretch he began to wander.
‘Everything okay?’ she asked nervously.
Cesca finally finished and the wood clattered to the ground. ‘No. It’s not.’
‘Oh.’ Cesca was normally so cheerful that to see her respond like this was worrying. Was she concerned Beth growing closer with Marco put her secret at risk? Or had she told him? Hope that she had rushed through Beth. ‘Is it me? Something I’ve done? The barge?’
‘What?’ Cesca looked up, her eyes wide. ‘No! Why would you think that?’
‘Because I know I’ve been nipping off and you’ve been doing so much work.
I haven’t exactly kept up with my fair share, have I?
’ As if to prove that she was there to work and not go anywhere, Beth took a can of the paint they’d chosen and opened it, giving it a stir before pouring it into a pot to take inside.
She grabbed a couple of brushes and newspaper too.
‘You’ve been having business meetings, not just doing nothing. Unless—’ She looked up. ‘Unless you’ve been going on secret dates with my brother, then I’d be annoyed that you didn’t tell me. Not that I’d want the details but …’
Beth felt her skin flush, especially remembering his friend comment of the night before. ‘All business, I assure you.’
‘I’m not annoyed at you or Marco or La Libreria delle Parole.’ She sighed heavily. ‘I’m annoyed because Emilio is going away. Again. I get that it’s his job, but I miss him so much. I wish … Oh, never mind.’ She went back to massacring the piece of wood.
‘What do you wish?’ Beth asked gently.
‘I wish I could go with him and that we could tell people about us.’
Beth dropped her painting gear and went to her friend, gently rubbing her arm.
‘It must be hard. Is it perhaps time to tell everyone?’ She had her own reasons for asking, but she did genuinely think it would be good for them if they could get it out in the open.
Sneaking around was never any good for any of them. ‘No matter what they might think?’
Cesca shook her head. ‘I wish it was, but I really don’t think so. Not yet, anyway.’
After her evening with Marco the night before, Beth wanted more than ever to tell him so there was nothing weighing on her conscience.
He was being kind in helping her and had even opened up a little more.
Not telling him was becoming more and more problematic, but if she told him, she risked losing Francesca’s friendship, which she’d had for far longer than Marco’s.
‘I’m sure they’d understand,’ she tried again. ‘Marco would, I think.’
Cesca glanced at Beth from the corner of her eye, and Beth turned her attention back to the paint pot and brushes, sweeping them up from the floor.
‘Marco is a good man – a good brother – but he’s protective of the family. Too protective, maybe.’
‘I can see that. He told me about the accident.’
‘He did?’ Cesca’s eyes widened.
‘Is that strange?’
‘Very. He never talks about it. Ever.’
A thrill that he was opening up to her in a way he didn’t with other people rocketed through Beth’s body. It made her want to smile, but now wasn’t the time.
‘He must trust you a lot. Like you a lot.’
Beth didn’t say anything and dropped her eyes. Cesca continued.
‘It’s what’s caused all the problems with our father. They both want to preserve the family business but in different ways and knowing how much he values reputation, Emilio’s will work against him. Even though he’s changed.’
‘But maybe you should give him a chance. If you tell him on his own, maybe he’ll react better than just blurting it out. He’s so proud of you Cesca; I’m sure he’ll only want what’s best for you.’
‘Maybe.’ She clapped her hands together. ‘Anyway, speaking of my family, my mother wants you to come for dinner.’
Beth, who had made it down the first step to the lower deck, almost lost her footing and scrambled back out onto the bank. ‘I’m sorry. What did you say?’
Cesca giggled, her face easing for the first time that morning and her normal grin returning. ‘She wants you to come and have dinner with us and when I say us, I mean all of us. So be prepared. She knows all about the book barge from me and from Marco and she wants to meet you.’
‘Why?’
‘Why?’ Cesca began sanding the wood she’d cut, smoothing its edges. ‘Because they want to meet you, and because it is the start of Carnevale and we always have a big family dinner at the beginning of the Carnevale season. It’s tradition. To do with Lent,’ she added.
‘But—’
‘And,’ Cesca continued, stopping her protesting, ‘you’re invited because you have no one else to celebrate with. Italian mammas don’t allow people to be on their own when it’s a big celebration or normally a family occasion. You’ll be one of us for an evening.’
One of us. Beth felt tears sting the back of her nose.
She had Daisy and Elsa, and they were her found family, but she hadn’t ever experienced this sort of thing.
This was why she’d fallen so in love with Italy.
It wasn’t just the place; it was the people too.
They were just so nice. But she couldn’t possibly accept.
She couldn’t sit and have a family dinner with Marco and his sister, and all his brothers, not while she was holding on to Cesca’s secret.
‘I’m sure Marco won’t want me there. Not when he finds out.
Like you say, he’s professional and he won’t want to mix business and …
’ The idea of saying pleasure in relation to Marco when she could still feel his kiss on her cheek made her body heat like someone had put her in a pot of boiling water, so she settled for: ‘not business.’
Cesca smirked. ‘Marco already knows and he’s fine with it. We discussed it last night on the family WhatsApp. My other brothers are dying to meet you too. And Mamma will be upset if you don’t come. So you will come, or she will never forgive you. You’re not busy tomorrow are you?’
‘I—’
‘I know you’re not. So don’t say you are.’
Caught out, Beth found a smile creeping onto her lips and tugging at her cheeks. ‘Okay, then. I’d be honoured to come. Thank you.’
‘Good. I’ll send you the address. Have you ever been to Murano?’
She shook her head, unable to speak.
‘It’s beautiful. You’ll love it. Marco can give you a tour before dinner.’
Knowing argument was futile, Beth shuffled back into the boat and began painting. After a few minutes, she grabbed her phone and began playing some music, singing along quietly as she worked.
With only a quick stop for lunch and a few cups of tea, Beth ended the day shocked at how much they’d achieved.
She wasn’t quite caught up with Cesca, but her friend’s work (which was excellent) was nearly finished.
The inside of the book barge was almost done.
As soon as she finished painting and it had dried, she’d be able to restock.
She’d spend the evening placing some orders so that at the end of the week, she could fill the shelves.
Not only would the book barge be open for the tourist season, it’d be open for Carnevale too!
This was much better than anything she’d thought possible.
But then, once they’d cleared most of the stock, there still wasn’t that much room in the galley of the small barge anyway.
Soon she’d talk about plans for the upper deck but for now, she’d kick back and relax at her new apartment.
After clearing up, Cesca left, and Beth made her way back home, Polo under her arm. She was actually considering getting him a little harness as he was quite heavy, but wasn’t sure if he’d like that.
Once home, Beth decided it was time to call Daisy and Elsa.
It had only been a couple of days since they’d broken the news, and she had texted them every day as usual, but she still worried that her own feelings on parenthood had shown in her reaction, and she wanted them to know how happy for them she was.
Marco’s words floated around her head as she kicked off her shoes and jumped in the shower.
You cannot worry about a future that isn’t here, or all the different possibilities that are out there.
You’ll drive yourself mad. You could meet someone who feels exactly the same way you do, and it won’t even be an issue.