Chapter 19
Beth met Marco at the boathouse, and she watched as he carried the boat onto the water.
He’d kissed her gently in greeting and the effect of it was still buzzing around her body as they got ready to row.
She walked behind with the oars, admiring the tension in the muscles of his broad shoulders.
The cool air seeped under the layers of her workout clothes, but it was pointless adding more as she’d only be hotter once she started moving.
Soon they were on the water, finding a natural rhythm so quickly that Marco didn’t need to call the strokes and instead they enjoyed a comfortable silence.
The blades of the oars cut through the water, and the sound of birdsong filled the air.
As they moved away, the city was a sea of terracotta, the bright tiles of the roofs, stark against the pale stone of the buildings, seeming brighter in the white light of the morning.
‘I don’t think I’ll ever get bored of this,’ Beth said, happy to be putting her memories of that last emotional row behind her.
‘I haven’t yet,’ Marco replied, a little out of breath. ‘And I think this is my favourite time of day to see the city.’
‘Me too.’
It wouldn’t be long, and Venice would once more be alive with Carnevale, all the calm lost. Spring would soon be here, the mornings warmer, the sun brighter, and she was looking forward to watching the city bloom.
Beth wondered if this was her chance to ask about Emilio and Cesca.
To try and warm Marco up to the idea of them being together and therefore soften the impact of Cesca’s secrets.
After the kiss last night, they were moving into new, uncharted territory.
Her feelings for him were deepening with every day, every kiss.
‘Doesn’t Emilio train on the water?’
‘Emilio?’ Marco seemed startled by the question. He gave a sardonic laugh and then sighed.
A silence grew, but Beth quickly interrupted it. ‘How long have you been friends?’
‘Since we were children. He’s a great rower. I’m proud of him.’
‘Cesca mentioned he’s been more focused lately.’
‘He has, but it won’t last. It never does. I love my friend, but he has faults. He is led by passion and has little self-control.’
‘Surely he must have some as a sportsman?’
‘He does what his coaches tell him, but he relaxes too much when he can.’
‘Cesca said—’
‘Cesca doesn’t know him like I do, and she should remember what he’s like. She’s always had a crush on him.’
‘But she is a grown woman,’ Beth said over her shoulder.
‘She’ll always be my baby sister and I’ve warned her enough times to stay away from him.
I love him, but his reputation with women isn’t great.
I know my friend and that means knowing his faults, and they’re not faults I want anywhere near the women I know.
’ His tone changed, suddenly loaded with suspicion.
‘Has Cesca said something … to you … about him?’
‘No, no!’ Beth replied quickly, her heart rate increasing. Guilt tightened her throat so she could barely speak. ‘No I was just asking about him, wondering what a sportsman like him does day to day; that’s all.’
The sky was lightening all around them, the water brightening as the sun began to shine down, turning the navy blue to a glistening aquamarine.
‘Do you mind if we head back now?’ Marco asked, his voice breathy from the effort, and she worried she’d annoyed him. She could see why Cesca was so worried about saying anything, even though Marco was acting with the best of intentions. ‘I have a meeting at nine.’
‘Of course not. I’ll see you Saturday for the masquerade ball, yes?’
‘Yes, but I will come by before then. If you don’t mind … ?’
‘No. No, of course not.’
‘Shall I pick you up for the ball or meet you there?’
‘Meet me there. It’ll be easier.’
As Marco made conversation, they made their way back to the shore, enjoying the sounds of the city coming alive.
Boats moved through the lagoon and chatter exuded from the gathering people.
Marco smiled and kissed her before leaving, his lips gentle and firm against her own.
She knew this thing between them was serious from the way her body reacted to his every touch, and reluctantly, they said goodbye and she headed home to shower and collect Polo.
She’d have to speak to Cesca again about coming clean.
Marco’s reaction made her feel even worse and when he found out she’d been keeping the secret from him, what would he do or say?
She had to see Cesca as soon as possible.
When Cesca arrived at the book barge, Beth pounced on her before she’d even put her toolbox on the ground.
‘What’s the matter?’ Cesca asked, looking panicked. ‘What’s happened? Is it sinking?’
‘Sinking? What, the boat? No! Why would you say that?’
Cesca shrugged. ‘What else could it be?’
‘The book barge isn’t sinking. It isn’t Polo either – he’s asleep on the armchair. We’re going shopping. I need your advice.’
‘Shopping?’ Cesca slowly lowered her toolbox and crossed her arms over her chest while frowning in confusion. ‘For what?’
‘A dress. I have this masquerade ball coming up and I have nothing to wear. Literally nothing. All I have are trousers and jumpers—’ To demonstrate her point even more, she tugged at her clothes. ‘In boring, muted colours. I don’t even own jeans. Why don’t I own jeans, Cesca? I’m not ninety!’
Cesca laughed and placed her hands on her friend’s arms. ‘It’s okay, calm down. We’ll go shopping for a dress. I know just where to go. It’s a very elegant event so you need something beautiful. We can start with the dress, and fix the rest of your boring wardrobe later. When is it?’
‘Saturday!’
‘That’s okay, we’ll find something. This is Venice! But first, we need coffee.’
Cesca stowed her toolbox inside and linked her arm into Beth’s as they walked to Giambattista’s.
Her friend’s presence calmed her a little and she actually started to believe she’d find something to wear that didn’t make her feel like one of the Carnevale performers.
She wanted to feel sexy and elegant, something she didn’t feel very often.
Maybe her narrow vision had seeped into more areas of her life than she’d realised.
After two strong coffees each, they were suitably caffeinated to face the Carnevale crowds and navigate the busy streets as they marched to the most upmarket shopping area of Venice.
‘Are you ready for how much this is going to cost?’
Beth nodded. She had thought about hiring a dress, or even borrowing one, but this was a masquerade ball during Venice Carnevale at one of the city’s most historic galleries.
She had to look her best and she wanted to impress Marco.
She wanted him to be proud she was on his arm and for him to goggle comically when he saw her dressed so differently.
For his eyes to light with longing and maybe even lust.
‘And I have to ask,’ Cesca began, ‘is some of this for my brother’s benefit?’
Beth felt her face freeze into a mask of horror. The moments they’d shared the evening before – the kisses – floated through her mind.
‘It is, isn’t it? It’s okay. I’d be happy if Marco dated you. Very happy. Our mother would be happy too. She likes you very much. She didn’t stop talking about you after you left. Does Marco know you like him?’ Cesca squeezed her arm as she said it, slightly teasingly.
‘I think so,’ Beth replied, knowing she sounded like an embarrassed teenager but not wanting to go into details of what they’d been up to with his sister.
Cesca chuckled. ‘It’s all right; I know how handsome women find my brother. It makes me feel a little sick but I’m not an idiot. I know the world thinks he’s gorgeous.’
Beth thought about continuing to deny it, but Daisy and Elsa’s thoughts lurked in her mind and last night had changed everything.
‘I really like him,’ Beth said tentatively.
‘I’m glad. He likes you very much; I can tell. He’s more open with you than he is with most people. I like seeing him happy. I just wish I could tell him about Emilio so he could be happy for me in return.’
‘I tried to talk to him about Emilio today.’
‘You did what?’ Cesca paused. ‘What did you say?’
‘I didn’t give anything away. I just hoped I could smooth the way for you. Warm him up to the idea.’
‘And?’
Beth shook her head sorrowfully. ‘It didn’t work. I don’t think he sees how much Emilio has changed.’
‘I knew that already.’
The Carnevale streets were still busy and a dancing duo bowed to them both, letting them pass before continuing with their act.
The number of shops they went in and out of was exhausting.
As was the number of dresses Beth tried on, but nothing seemed quite what she wanted.
She either felt uncomfortable at the level of detail, or overexposed as her pale white skin was there for everyone to see.
As usual she was drawn towards darker colours while Cesca seemed to be grabbing bright jewel colours that washed her out.
Time was marching on as they walked to the next shop with nothing to show for their efforts. Beth worried about closing the book barge for this, but she knew she had to get it sorted.
‘You need to try something different,’ Cesca said as they opened the door and walked into the air-conditioned store.
‘I know,’ Beth replied. ‘I know you like colour, and that’s fine, but I just don’t suit bright tones. They make me look ill. I’m too pale for them.’
‘You’re not comfortable in them; that’s not the same as not suiting them. You actually suit a lot of brighter colours, but you insist on staying in greys and blacks. Why?’ Cesca raced to a rack and began studying the clothes.
Beth grew uncomfortable. ‘I don’t know really. I’ve always had a uniform. It helps me stay focused on my work and I guess it’s just comfortable. It means I don’t have to spend headspace thinking about what to wear and I can use that energy on something else.’
‘Well Venice Carnevale is the time to embrace colour and something a little daring. Try on some of these.’
She bundled Beth towards the changing rooms. Every dress was made of thin, satiny material that clung to her less-than-sexy underwear.
The colours were far too bright and only highlighted how she had bags under her eyes and needed a new moisturiser.
She was about to give up when a hand shot around the curtain waving a long black velvet dress.
‘This is the only black dress I’ll allow you to wear.’
Beth took it, already feeling a connection with the garment.
She held it up to view its full length and was relieved to see it would fall to the floor.
It had a Bardot neckline and a thigh-high split that was sexy without putting everything on display.
She slipped into it. Even without heels her legs looked good from all the rowing.
She stood on tiptoe and ran her hands down her hips.
She pulled her hair into a high ponytail and turned in the mirror, deciding if having it up made it look nicer.
It did. Her neck looked long, her shoulders toned, and she felt comfortable – like herself but … fancier.
‘Can I see?’ asked Cesca, and Beth pulled back the curtain. Cesca gasped, her hands shooting up to her face.
‘It’s perfect. Now all we need are heels and a mask. And a red lip.’
Beth shook her head, letting her hair tumble from her hands. ‘I’ve never worn a red lip.’
‘Then it’s time you started. You have lovely plump lips and with a black or gold mask, you’ll look incredible. Trust me,’ Cesca added, seeing her waver.
Go with the flow, Beth told herself. Go with the flow.
She looked again at herself in the mirror and wondered what Marco would make of her.
He’d seen her sweaty from workouts and rows; he’d seen her covered in paint from working on the boat.
Would he recognise her? A smile crept over her face.
Cesca wouldn’t steer her wrong and she always managed to look stylish, even in her work clothes.
Beth grinned. ‘All right. Let’s go.’