A Family For Keeps

He didn't recognise this woman. She'd freely claimed to be 'as mad as a hatter', and there were times in her delirium and sleepwalking when she'd seemed to be treading some fine line between reality and delusion. But now he saw only grim purpose in her eyes, and he wondered which side of the line she had stepped.

And who could blame her, he wondered, if her tragedy had driven her to the wrong side?

CHAPTER SIX

'So,' Vincenzo said gently, 'when you find Bruce-'

'He's going to give her back to me. If he's reasonable I'll promise him twenty-four hours' start before I point the police in his direction.'

'But then he'll get away,' Piero pointed out.

Julia turned on him.

'You don't think I'm going to keep my word, do you?' she asked scornfully. 'As soon as I'm clear with Natalie I'll put them straight onto him. After what he did to me, I'll have no remorse about anything I do to him.

'I've had plenty of time to learn to be strong. I'm a different person now. Sophie was a fool. She thought feelings were wonderful because they made her happy.'

'She doesn't sound like a fool to me,' Vincenzo said quietly.

'Oh, she was worse than that,' Julia said with an edge of contempt for her old self. 'She needed people and she believed in them. She hadn't learned that that's the quickest way to hell. But Sophie's dead and good riddance to her. Julia knows it's better to use people than trust them. She's grown wise.'

'Too wise to love?' Vincenzo asked. 'Too wise to need?'

'Too wise to feel. The one thing she learned in prison was not to feel anything.'

'Not even for her child?'

She took a sharp breath. 'That's different. She's part of me, flesh of my flesh. It's as though someone had torn my heart out and wouldn't give it back.'

'So that's why you said you had nothing to give,' he reminded her in a low voice.

'Yes, and it was true, so believe it.'

There was a flash of anger in his eyes. 'And suppose I choose not to believe it?'

'That's your risk, but remember that I warned you.'

He was silent for a moment. Then he nodded.

'I'll be going now. Walk a little way with me.'

She followed him quietly, and as they neared the outer door he said, 'It's a long time between now and mid- January. How are you going to spend that time?'

'Sharpening my sword,' she said with grim humour.

'Don't talk like that,' he said harshly.

'Why? Because you've got some fairy-tale picture of me as sweetness and light? Maybe I was, then. Not now. Now I'm a monster who knows how to fight dirty. And I'll do it.'

He raised an eyebrow, dampening her agitation.

'I was only going to suggest a better way to pass the time. Come and work for me while Celia's away. Of course, for an artist, waitressing may seem like a comedown-'

'But for a gaolbird it's a step up,' she said lightly.

He refused to rise to the bait. 'Will you take the job?'

She hesitated. She had promised herself to beware of him. She made that promise often, and broke it constantly because he touched her heart, deny it as she might.

As if he could read her mind, Vincenzo said quietly, 'Never fear. I won't trouble you. In fact I ought to apologise.'

'For what?'

'Pressuring you. I guessed that something painful had happened, but I had no idea of anything like this.'

She smiled in mockery of herself. 'Now you know how I turned into an avenging witch. Not a pretty sight, am I?'

'I'm not judging you. What right do I have? But I can't believe that Sophie is dead. I think she's still there somewhere.'

'More fool you,' she sighed. 'You've been warned.'

'Let's leave that for the moment. You need peace and space, and I'll let you have them while you're working for me.'

'All right, I'll take the job.'

'Good. You can have the apartment over the restaurant.'

She shook her head.

'Thank you, but I'll stay here. I can't leave Piero alone now. I know he was alone before, but something's changed. I have a feeling that he needs me.'

'I thought you had no feelings.'

'This is family obligation.'

'And you two are family?'

'Not by blood, but in other ways.' She added quickly, 'And that's not an emotion either. It's survival.'

'And what about me? Am I part of the family?'

She didn't answer, and he knew he was excluded from the charmed circle.

It ought not to matter. He still had relatives with whom he would spend Christmas, leaving these two misfits to whatever comfort they could find with each other. And yet it hurt.

As the month moved towards Christmas, winking lights glinted everywhere, in shop windows, strung across the streets and over the bridges.

People called out of windows and across bridges, wishing each other, 'Buon Natale.' Merry Christmas, Decorated trees appeared in the squares, and red-robed figures strode about the little city, waving cheerily and talking to children.

'Father Christmas,' Julia exclaimed, pleased.

'Babbo Natale,' Piero corrected her. 'That's what we call him. Babbo means 'Father'.'

'I thought that was padre?'

'Padre means 'father' too,' Piero agreed. 'But it's more formal. Babbo is a kind of affectionate diminutive. Some children use it to their fathers, especially when they're very young.'

'Did Elena do that?' she asked.

'Oh, yes. I've always been Babbo to her, except for- well, there was a time when we argued a lot, and she started calling me Papa. But that's all over now, and when she comes back I'll be Babbo again. Hey, look over there! A whole collection of them!'

He pointed to the Grand Canal, where six red-garbed figures were rowing one gondola, accompanied by blaring Christmas music, and the subject of Elena was allowed to drop.

The week before Christmas she awoke to find Venice under snow. Delighted, she and Piero went out and walked arm in arm through the city that had been totally transformed. Snow-covered gondolas bobbed in the water, snow-covered bridges glittered over tiny canals. A brilliant, freezing sun poured down blindingly on the white blanket, and she had to shield her eyes from the glare.

Now there were musicians wandering the alleys and the piazzas, wearing the traditional shepherds' garb of buckskins and woollen cloaks, and playing bagpipes. The sweet, reedy sound pursued them to St Mark's, where they threw snowballs, ducking and diving, laughing at each other like people who hadn't a care in the world.

Vincenzo had insisted on giving her a generous amount of money for saving his home from damage. 'Your caretaker's bonus,' he called it.

Julia had immediately passed it on to Piero. When he'd demurred she'd told him that this was only half the