‘Do you know what that is?’ Pietro asked.

‘Yes, it’s a gondolier, signalling that he’s coming around a blind corner,’ she said. ‘There he is.’

As they watched a long shape drifted into sight, turning towards them, the gondolier plying his oar at the rear, in front of him a young man and woman in each other’s arms.

I must tell her now, Pietro thought.

Down below the lovers looked up, then smiled and waved, as though wanting to share their happiness with the world, before vanishing under the bridge.

I will tell her, but how will she take it?

The email from Gino had said,

I know you think I should have returned before, but I’ve been doing so well in Poland, finding all sorts of new places that will interest you. I’d planned to go on to Russia next-after all, that was what you originally told me to do-but it will mean being away for a long time and I suppose I ought to clear this other thing up first, otherwise it’ll just drag on.

I’m coming by train from Milan, and I’ll be at the station the day after tomorrow, at about five-thirty in the afternoon. If it’s all right with you I’ll stay the night, and leave the next day. That’ll give me time to talk to Ruth and put her right about whatever’s worrying her.

Pietro had read this several times, trying vainly to detect any hint of concern for the girl Gino had once loved and planned to marry. But it was a fruitless task, and at last he had begun to outline a reply. As he had tapped out the letters his face had been concentrated into a scowl.

Whatever you’re planning to say I can’t imagine that it will do Ruth any good. She puts a brave face on it, but she’s having a hard time and I don’t want you to make it worse. It’s best if you don’t come at all. Ruth is no longer your problem. I’ll take care of her.


Then he sat glaring at the computer screen, struggling with the biggest temptation of his life. But at last he gave in with a bad grace, and hit the Delete button so savagely that the keyboard jumped.

He tried again.

Don’t come at all if that’s your attitude. She’s better off without you.

He deleted that one at once and scowled at the screen, trying to understand what was wrong with him. With all his heart he wanted to keep Gino away and save Ruth from pain and disillusion.

But he couldn’t save her. It was her decision. He could neither shield her, nor make it for her. That was the brute fact that he couldn’t get past.

As for why he should want to intervene, that was another fact, an alarming one, that he didn’t want to face.

He’d been living in a spell, telling himself that it could never be broken, that tomorrow wouldn’t come. Now it had come and he was left in confusion.

‘Did Gino take you in a gondola?’ he asked.

‘Several times. He actually proposed to me in a gondola.’

Suppressing the bitter comment, ‘He would!’, Pietro said noncommittally, ‘Tell me about it.’

He couldn’t make out her face very clearly, but well enough to discern the change of expression: a quick smile, followed at once by a reflective look, then another smile, different, softer, full of sweet recollection. It hurt him to see it.

‘I can’t,’ she said at last.

‘You don’t remember the details?’

‘No, I can remember them but I can’t-talk about them.’

He wanted to lash out. Clearly, to her, the events of that night were too sacred to be mentioned, but Gino had merely talked of clearing up ‘this other thing’.

This other thing. How could Ruth ever imagine that her lover would speak of her like that? And when she found out, how could he prevent it destroying her?

‘Do you think you could cope with seeing Gino again?’ he asked quietly.

‘That’s not likely to happen anytime soon.’

‘It might happen sooner than you think.’ He took a deep breath. ‘I’ve heard from him.’

She turned quickly. ‘What did he say?’

‘He’s coming home.’

He wished he could read her face. Were her eyes wide with shock or joyous disbelief?

‘Is that really true?’ she whispered. ‘He called you?’

‘He emailed me. His train from Milan will get into the station the day after tomorrow, at about five-thirty in the afternoon.’

‘Why didn’t you tell me before?’

‘I wasn’t sure how. Things are different now. You’ve moved on.’

‘Not-’ she started to say, then quickly checked herself.

What had she meant to say? he wondered. Not really? Not that much?

‘I don’t know,’ she finished at last. ‘I just don’t know.’

From a few feet away came a faint whine. Toni had left the bridge and gone to the entrance to a narrow calle, where he sat, impatient to go home.

‘All right,’ she laughed. ‘We’re coming.’

Pietro sighed at the way Toni had dispelled the mood. Another few minutes and he might have drawn Ruth out about her true feelings, but the dog’s interruption had given her the chance to think and settle her defences in place.

‘Next time I’ll leave you behind,’ he threatened his faithful hound.

‘Don’t be unkind to him,’ Ruth said firmly. ‘Come on, pet, I’ll give you your medicine as soon as we get indoors.’

The moment had gone.

As they wandered home Pietro said, ‘I wish you wouldn’t shut me out.’

‘I’m not,’ she insisted. ‘Not deliberately, anyway. In an odd way, I’m shut out too-shut out from myself. There’s somebody in there called “Me”, but she won’t open the door to-me. Does that make any sense?’

‘Oddly enough, it does. Go on.’

‘How am I going to react to seeing Gino? The point is, which one of me will do the reacting?’ She gave a little laugh. ‘Maybe it’ll be like one of those horror films when one person vanishes into another. One look at Gino and Ruth One will appear and take over.’

‘She’s the one who’s in love with him.’

‘Was in love with him. She’s gone, but-’

Pietro nodded. ‘But how far?’

‘Or maybe Ruth Three will stand there, resolute, and say “I’m in charge now,”’ she said, avoiding a direct answer. ‘And he’ll run for his life.’

He looked at her, walking beside him, poised, elegant and beautiful.

‘I don’t think he’ll run for his life,’ he said. ‘More likely he’ll try to win you back.’

‘That could be awkward, two of us operating in different time zones,’ she said lightly.

‘What about Ruth Two?’

‘Perish the thought. I don’t want to be her again. Now, I’m not going to think about it until I go to the station and meet the train.’

‘Until we go,’ Pietro said firmly.

‘I’ll be all right on my own.’

‘I’m going to be there. Don’t argue with me.’

‘All right. You said Gino emailed you. Can I see it?’

‘I’m afraid I deleted it by accident.’

Her smile had never been more brilliant. ‘I see. All right, Toni, I’m coming.’

She skipped ahead, leaving him to trail after her, dissatisfied.

Next day Franco came to the Palazzo Bagnelli, bringing his wife. Ruth found the Baronessa Serafina pure entertainment. Born Jessie Franks, she had changed her name to Sweetheart for a brief career as an adult movie star, and then again to Serafina in honour of her new, grand position in the world. But only Franco was permitted to call her this. To everyone else she was Baronessa, and woe betide anyone who forgot.

Her manner to Pietro combined awe and flirtatiousness, neither of which appealed to him, Ruth could see. She made it plain that she considered herself, her husband and Count Bagnelli to exist on a higher plane than mere mortals. Ruth was relegated to the position of servant, or would have been if Pietro hadn’t made a point of treating her with noticeable respect.

‘If I’d known she was going to be so rude to you I’d never have agreed,’ he said. ‘Shall I throw them out?’

‘Of course not. She doesn’t bother me. I think she’s hilarious, except when she insults the house.’

‘Quite!’ he seethed. ‘Did you hear her say it needed redecoration?’

‘It’s not enough like a Hollywood mansion for her taste.’

The list of things Serafina wanted altered was enormous, and only a flat refusal from Pietro silenced her. Attempting to smooth things over, Franco insisted on taking them all to dinner. Serafina’s eyebrows rose at the idea of including Ruth, but Ruth backed out thankfully, preferring an evening alone with Toni. Pietro wasn’t pleased.

‘How can you leave me undefended?’ he growled to Ruth.

‘Because I don’t fancy being treated as Cinderella, allowed to go to the ball. She’d expect me to vanish at midnight.’

‘Great. Then I could vanish with you.’

‘Sorry. She’s your problem.’

‘Thanks!’

It was a relief to have the building to herself, and to hear the blessed quiet after the disturbance of the day. For tomorrow an army would descend on them and there would be no moments of calm.

Soon she would see Gino again, and discover whether the man who lived in her head had any reality. If he did, then the thing she feared most might happen, and she would be transported back to a discarded personality, becoming again the woman who was in love with him.

But she longed not to be that woman. The thought that it might happen was like seeing a cage close around her.

And yet another part of her heart yearned to feel again the innocent love and delight she had known then, when the world was a happier, simpler place.

She fell asleep hoping that tonight her dreams would give her some guidance, but this time there was only darkness.

Franco and Serafina descended again next morning, complete with servants to make the Palazzo Bagnelli ‘suitable’, as they saw it. Pietro had taken the precaution of telephoning his country estate and summoning some of his own servants who had worked there before. They arrived like an opposing army, ready to take charge.