Chapter 25
In an attempt to distract herself from her heartbreak and the aching in her spirit, Beth concentrated on nothing but the book barge and her reopening celebrations for the next few days.
Saturday morning dawned and Lolanda and Galvano were back next to her, the fruit and veg seller on the other side.
They all greeted each other warmly and she allowed herself to be comforted by the sense of community around her.
Her heart hurt whenever she thought of Marco and seemed to be tender the rest of the time, even when she wasn’t actively thinking of him, but she focused on her work and each day hoped the pain would lessen.
Cesca hadn’t been round either, and Beth was unsure what to make of that.
Was it guilt or embarrassment keeping her away?
Beth hoped it wasn’t either. While she was still a little annoyed at the way Cesca had gone about telling everyone, she wanted to be there to support her friend and had written several messages, only to delete them because she didn’t know if it was too soon or what exactly to say.
She’d resolved that if she’d heard nothing by the end of the day, she’d contact her this evening and make sure she was okay.
Maybe invite her for coffee or for lunch at her apartment.
They didn’t even have to talk about Marco, though she was itching to know how he was and if he was missing her as much as she was missing him.
The smell of Lolanda’s rich coffee drifted on the air towards her, and she could already taste it as she went to grab a cup before opening the bookshop.
The day was bright and sunny, warmer than any they’d had so far, and the sunshine lifted her spirits.
With Carnevale over, Beth had wondered if it would be quiet, but Lolanda, who clearly had more experience than her, was convinced it would still be busy.
‘It will be a good day,’ Lolanda said, passing over the takeaway cup and eyeing the sky. ‘But you should enjoy this time of year. Only a month to go and then it is busy, busy, busy until the end of the summer. You will long for days like today then.’
‘I’m sure I will,’ Beth replied.
Venice in summer was spectacular, even if it was packed so full it was hard to move.
But the idea of being at the book barge through the busiest months, with the sun beating down on her as she flitted in and out, speaking to customers both outside and in, sent a bolt of excitement through her, which for the first time in days actually lifted her mood.
For a second, she forgot the ache in her heart, the pain, like a stitch, that wouldn’t go away as she pictured locking the door and heading back to her apartment.
Maybe stopping at a restaurant on the way home before lounging on her sofa, examining the age-old beams overhead before choosing something to watch on TV.
It seemed perfect. But was missing a key piece: Marco.
She sipped her coffee, focusing on the flavour and wishing for the respite she’d had of moments before as her chest constricted and her heart squeezed.
‘Do you hire extra help in the summer?’ she asked, eager to think about something else.
‘Sometimes,’ Lolanda nodded. ‘We have a daughter. She comes home from university and helps, but not always. Students … they are lazy!’
Beth laughed. ‘I’ll look forward to meeting her then.’
She moved back to her barge and double-checked all the stock she had was available and on display.
She’d have to buy some more commercial fiction soon, she thought happily, and might even perhaps think of something to do with the remaining non-fiction she’d inherited.
Despite the brighter day, the barge was still a little dark in places and Beth turned on the lamps and lit the fire.
Polo had already curled up on the armchair and was happily asleep after devouring his breakfast.
As Lolanda had forecast, it was busy as the sunny weather drew more and more people from their homes.
With the sun and breeze warmer, Beth didn’t need to light the fire and enjoyed a few moments on the canal side to breathe in the cool, fresh air.
The day passed quickly with lots of book sales and faces she recognised.
It seemed that the local community, as much as the tourists, liked what she was stocking, and she loved catching up with people and asking what they wanted to read next.
At the end of the day, she’d just finished counting the takings and getting ready to leave when there was a knock on the door. Beth stood up and opened it, surprised to see Cesca, and for a moment they stared at each other, then Beth realised she was being rude.
‘Hi! Umm … come in.’ She backed down the set of stairs and put Polo’s carry case down on the floor. He meowed but soon settled again, having got used to their strange routine. She slipped off her coat.
‘I can come back tomorrow if you were just going home,’ Cesca replied, toying with her hands.
‘No, no, that’s fine. How are you?’
Cesca’s lip wobbled. ‘Not great. Marco, Emilio, the family … things are … strained and I didn’t want to lose your friendship too.’ She quickly swiped a tear from her cheek and Beth rushed to her friend and engulfied her in a hug.
‘You won’t! I’m sorry I haven’t texted. I didn’t know what to say and then I thought, right, I’ll message her tonight if I haven’t heard anything—’
‘I’m the one who should be sorry. It was stupid of me to say something at dinner. I really did mean to do it afterwards. I should have kept my mouth shut and spoken to Marco alone but—’
‘What’s done is done.’ Beth tried to keep the wobble from her voice but failed and Cesca raised her head. Seeing her friend’s concerned gaze sent tears into Beth’s eyes and she turned away, refusing to let them fall.
‘Do you – do you fancy a drink? I can go and get some wine.’
‘That sounds like a good idea. We need to talk this through.’
Cesca went off, and Beth opened Polo’s case so he could roam around, but not wanting him to escape for hours on end, she made sure the doors and windows stayed closed.
After a few minutes, Cesca returned with two bottles of wine and had even stopped in at a deli, grabbing some bags of food to snack on.
Beth found two mugs and Cesca poured them both a drink.
With the bread, breadsticks, meats and dips between them, they relaxed back into the armchairs, the setting sun sending golden sunlight through the windows.
Knowing there was no easy way to start the conversation, Beth said, ‘So … ?’ and waited for Cesca to begin wherever she felt comfortable.
‘So … as you can imagine it all went mad after you left – which I’m so sorry for. Marco shouldn’t have done that.’
‘No, he shouldn’t. But I understand why he did. He felt betrayed and I was in his home.’
‘No. That is not the Italian hospitality we’re proud of here. Mamma was so angry with him. She hit him with her tea towel after you’d left.’
‘So he came back?’
Cesca nodded. ‘About … I don’t know, fifteen minutes later. He arrived back – I think he might have been looking for you – and the first thing she did was hit him with the tea towel. It hurt him.’
‘Good.’ Beth managed a smile, but the scene playing out in her head caused her more than a little pain.
She could picture his stricken face, feel his hurt even though she hadn’t purposely caused it.
And she was angry too. Angry that he hadn’t heard her out or accepted she’d never wanted to be put in such a difficult position.
‘How is he now? And how are things with you and Emilio?’
‘Mamma and Papa had a long conversation with Emilio and are convinced he’s changed. They see what I see. But Marco … he will not accept it. He knows Emilio has had a lot of flings, but he won’t believe that he loves me. It is possible that Emilio has fallen in love with me. Why won’t he see it?’
‘I’m not surprised Emilio loves you. There’s nothing not to love. But you know Marco doesn’t want you to get hurt. You’re his baby sister.’
‘Even though I’m in my mid-twenties! I’m not a baby anymore. My life isn’t really any of his business.’
‘No, it isn’t, but it won’t stop him caring. Besides, that’s not the Italian way, is it.’
Beth thought of what else was said as she and Cesca sipped their wine.
It was a rich, delicious red and the smoothness slipped down her throat, instantly relaxing some of the tension from her shoulders.
Beth felt herself relax, grateful that she and Cesca were finally able to talk about what happened.
But something had been mentioned, something she wasn’t aware of, another reason for Marco behaving the way he had.
She was just about to ask when Cesca said: ‘You need to know though, that I’ve told Marco that it was all my fault you couldn’t say anything.
I told him that you’d begged me to tell him so many times and I’d refused.
I’ve tried to explain that he shouldn’t be angry with you, but with me instead. ’
‘And what did he say?’
‘I said all this at the family dinner, but he didn’t reply. He just looked at Emilio like he wanted to kill him, stood up, and left without saying a word. No one has heard from him since.’
Beth’s head shot up. ‘No one?’
Cesca shook her head. ‘He’s come here and got on with his work. He’s done this before.’
‘When?’
Cesca sipped her drink. ‘The reason Marco got so angry – the reason why he struggles with trust and letting people in is not just because of the accident we had when we were children, but because he had a business before this one. It was doing the same sort of thing – PR for local artists – but was with someone else – another friend—’
‘Male or female?’ Beth asked, unable to stop herself.