Chapter 30 #2
Before long, crowds began to flock to the canal side.
Spring was here, the sun was shining, the waters bluer and calmer, the air filled with birdsong and Venice was lovelier than it ever had been before.
All the barges were busy and everyone along the path pointed their customers towards Beth.
She couldn’t believe how they all supported one another, even those she hadn’t had the chance to meet yet.
She was busier than she’d ever been, restocking shelves, making lists of requests and orders (something she’d never even thought of with handling everything else on her plate).
Her artists sold work and had lots of interesting conversations with new potential customers, the lace bookmarks provided by Marcella were very nearly fought over by two passionate Italian ladies until Beth promised there would be even more coming soon.
Even Signor Sanna stopped by from the galleria and bought a book or two, pleased she was staying in Italy and asking if she’d consider doing one or two freelance jobs if they came up.
She agreed because who knew what the rest of the year held, and a part of her still edged towards caution.
She’d realised it always would, but she would choose whether to follow it or take a chance.
When the crowd parted and Signor Balbo arrived, Beth’s heart flew up into her throat. He stood in silence, staring at the barge, taking it all in. Polo recognised him and began weaving around his feet. Signor Balbo bent down and petted the cat.
‘Ah, his fur is nice and soft. You must be stroking him a lot.’
‘I’m definitely enjoying looking after him and I don’t think he minds that much either. So what do you think?’ she asked tentatively.
He pursed his lips as he scanned every inch of the book barge. Beth, and everyone else who knew him, held their breath. The canal side had become so quiet you could hear a pin drop. ‘I like it very much. Now let me see inside.’
He shuffled to the door and a customer helped him down the stairs. Beth followed, glancing at Cesca as she went.
‘Yes, very nice. Exactly as it should be. I can go back to see my children in Padua knowing it is in good hands.’
Beth laughed in relief. ‘Would you like to sit for a while?’ She signalled to the armchair.
‘Just a quick rest, I think.’
He snuggled in, Polo immediately jumping onto his lap.
Beth sat with him. ‘I’ve been meaning to thank you, signor.’
‘Thank me? For what?’
‘For selling me the book barge and changing my life.’
‘Oh, no!’ He waved his hands. ‘I didn’t change your life, you did. And I’m grateful too. The time had come to pass on the bookshop. And I can see it’s in the right hands.’
‘Thank you.’ Beth kissed his cheeks and went about serving customers.
After a short nap, during which Signor Balbo’s snoring filled the barge, he left, promising to stop by more often.
Beth returned to the canal side but couldn’t help wondering where Marco was.
His family were all still there, speaking in whispers at the side of the canal, checking phones and watches.
But he still hadn’t appeared. She had just grabbed another coffee when everyone seemed to turn, looking further down the canal path where someone was trying to make their way through the crowd carrying a humungous and clearly heavy box.
A head of dark hair popped around the side and ice-blue eyes checked the route ahead.
Beth’s breath skittered and her heart raced.
It was Marco. But what was he carrying? His body was braced, his coat open and the tails drifting behind him as he strode forwards.
The crowd parted as his broad form made its way through.
He stopped in front of her, placing whatever it was at her feet.
As he stood, she could see his chest rise and fall and the closed-off look she’d grown used to was gone, revealing the man underneath.
The man she’d been falling in love with.
‘I’m sorry I’m late,’ he said, motioning down to the giant box at her feet as if that had been to blame.
‘That’s okay. Thank you for coming. Signor Zambelli and Riccardo are just—’
‘I’m not here for them. I’m here for you.’
Beth felt her eyes widen, the skin around them stretching as she gazed at him in wonder. ‘For me.’
Marco pushed his hand into his hair, scrunching the back in that way she’d come to know and love. Her heart swelled. ‘Beth, I know I was wrong to get angry with you. So wrong. I shouldn’t have done that, and I understand if it will take you a while to forgive me.’
She’d already forgiven him, what she was struggling with, was forgiving herself.
She’d always been afraid of not being in control and there was nothing more out of control than love.
Love did what it wanted when it wanted. It made you act in ways you never thought you would.
She wouldn’t haven’t stayed and made a last-minute decision to buy a book barge if her love for Venice hadn’t been strong enough.
And now, she knew just how much she was in love with Marco, with his family.
Losing him for these few short weeks had been hard enough. She wasn’t prepared to lose him again.
‘But,’ Marco continued, ‘I will wait for as long as it takes for you to forgive me. You must know though, Beth, that I have fallen completely in love with you and I will be here ready for whenever you can love me back.’
Beth’s eyes misted with tears and as their friends and family gasped, she wasn’t sure if she’d be able to speak. She took a deep breath and cleared her throat. ‘Marco—’
‘Before you say anything,’ Marco said, holding his hand up to stop her. ‘Please, open this.’ He nodded at the box at her feet.
Beth leaned down and opened the top. She reached in and pulled out the layers of bubble wrap hiding whatever was inside. Eventually, she unveiled it, lifting it out to see it in all its glory.
A smile spread over her face as she took in the beautiful glass vase.
The colours were of the stunning sunsets she and Marco had seen on their morning rows.
A mixture of light and dark pinks with pale and deeper blues.
The filigree at the top of the vase made the glass look similar to the water, the way it swirled around the boat as they moved through the lagoon.
‘It’s beautiful,’ she whispered. ‘Where did you—’
‘I made it.’
Her head snapped up. ‘You did? When?’
‘I’ve been working on it for the last few weeks with Papa. He’s helped me get it perfect. I needed some teaching as it had been so long.’
A slight blush crept up onto his cheeks and if Beth hadn’t been holding the vase she’d have reached out and cupped his cheek, gently brushing the redness with her thumb. She glanced at Elio to see him smiling proudly at his son.
‘Marco—’ His face fell as her voice had sounded firmer than she’d intended.
She had wanted it to be firm as she knew her decision was the right one, but she hadn’t meant to alarm him and from the widening of his eyes and his slight step back, she was worried he was about to turn around and run.
Cesca stepped forwards and took the vase from her.
Elio soon swooped in and grabbed it from her, to keep it safe, clearly as proud of it as Marco was.
‘Marco—’ she began again. ‘I don’t need time to forgive you. I already have. And I’m sorry for being too stubborn when you apologised to me before.’
He shook his head. ‘No, you were right not to accept my apology straight away.’
‘We’ll have to agree to disagree. But it made me realise that I’m not falling in love with you, I am in love with you.
Totally. Already. And I want us to make this work.
No one—’ She almost stumbled over her words.
She didn’t want to talk about her decision not to have children in front of everyone simply because she preferred her private life to be private.
But she wanted him to know that they were meant to be.
‘No one’s ever understood me like you do. ’
‘I feel the same,’ he replied with a smile. ‘I think we can – we do – fulfil each other. You are the only thing I want, Beth. And I want to build a life together.’
Beth’s stomach somersaulted and in the true spirit of going with the flow, she inched towards Marco, lifted her head and kissed him. His strong arms wrapped around her waist, pulling her close.
From around her she was aware of the crowd beginning to cheer and whistle. As they pulled back, from the corner of her eye Beth saw Elio holding the vase tightly, protecting it from his sons and their wives and children who were dancing around and jumping on the spot.
She giggled, but she’d be forever grateful.
Just like the paintings she’d always loved, it was a priceless work of art.
Her priceless work of art made by the man she loved.
In that moment, Beth couldn’t have been happier, and she knew without doubt that she’d made the right decision.
Venice was the city she loved most and Marco the only man she could ever love just as much.