CHAPTER ELEVEN
Gemma returned next morning, and Vincenzo walked home with Julia. Rosa would have come with them, but Vincenzo gently discouraged her. This was their first chance for a private conversation since the events of the night before.
She had remained with Rosa a long time, emerging to find that Vincenzo had gone to his room. That had been a kind of relief. What would they have said to each other?
Now they walked in silence until Julia said, 'I feel as if I'd got to know Bianca, with Rosa's help. I'm glad. She's real now. And I have to deal with her.'
'Deal with her? How?'
'By accepting her. I suppose I had some idea of driving her out because she was usurping my place, but I can't do that. There has to be room for all of us. Rosa will only turn to me if she can bring Bianca with her.'
'Does that make you hate my sister?' Vincenzo asked in a low voice.
'No, I'm grateful to her. She did me no wrong. She looked after my child, and made her happy. Rosa says that Bianca actually defended me when her father tried to wipe me out. She wouldn't let him do it.'
'She was the most generous woman alive,' Vincenzo said sadly.
'Yes, I know that now. She tried to do me justice, and I'll do her justice.'
'And in the end Rosa will turn to you,' Vincenzo said. 'And you'll take her away.'
'Are you saying you'd just stand back and let me?'
'I won't stop her being with her mother, if that's what you mean. It has to be her choice, but you're going to win. We both know that. The affinity is there. She feels it. Deep down inside that child knows who you are. She doesn't understand what she knows, but it's there, and sooner or later it will come to the surface.'
'It nearly happened last night,' Julia said. 'She was crying out in English.'
'How can you tell? No is the same in both languages.'
'But she cried 'Mummy' not 'Mamma'.'
'Yes,' he said heavily. 'She was reliving that moment, but when she woke up she didn't remember. Next time-'
'It's a lot for her to take in,' she said placatingly. 'It might be a while yet.'
She wondered at herself for denying the very thing she most longed for, but, intentionally or not, he'd reminded her that they were on opposite sides, and she wanted to comfort him for the loss he was facing.
As the restaurant came in sight, still closed up, they saw a young man standing outside, trying to peer through the windows.
'Hallo,' Vincenzo called.
The young man jumped. He was thin, fair-haired and awkward-looking.
'Hallo?' he said. 'I'm Terry Dale. I work for Simon and Son. I'm looking for Mrs Haydon.'
'That's me,' Julia said at once. To Vincenzo she added, 'They're my lawyers in England. I called them when I moved in here.'
'Let's go inside,' Vincenzo said, opening the door to the restaurant and ushering them both in.
'I came because I've got good news about your compensation,' Terry Dale said when he was inside.
'I thought it was far too soon for the compensation to be settled,' Julia said.
'Normally, yes, but now that the conviction's been quashed, they want this one off their plate fast. They've made a generous offer.' Conscious of Vincenzo's un-moving presence, he scribbled something on a scrap of paper and thrust it at her. 'How about that?'
Julia's eyes opened wide at the sum.
'Are you sure you didn't add on an extra nought by mistake?' she asked.
'Good, isn't it? But that's not all. Everyone knows you've been looking for your husband, and if you've got any leads-well-'
'It's been years,' Julia said carefully. 'He may not even be alive any more.'
'That doesn't matter. Even if he were dead the police could track back and find out who he's been associated with, interview anyone he's known, that kind of thing. It could be worth quite a bit more to you.'
'I didn't know it worked like that.'
'Officially it doesn't, but this kind of information can help-'
Terry Dale was scribbling more figures, showing them to her like a puppy appealing for a pat.
'I don't like this,' she said. 'It looks like some people still think I'm in cahoots with him.'
'Oh, no, but they know you're looking for your daughter, and when you find her it'll help us get onto his trail. Like I say, it could be worth a lot of money to you.'
'That's too bad, because there's no help I can give,' she said firmly. 'I can't point you in the direction of my husband, and you can take that as final. The lesser compensation will have to do.'
'Well, it's a pity because-'
Julia picked up the paper with the figures and tore it again and again.
'Goodbye, Mr Dale. Please thank your boss for his efforts and ask him to finalise matters.'
She saw him out and turned to find Vincenzo regarding her with a look that was half appreciation, half suspicion.
'I didn't see the figures,' he said now, 'but it must have been tempting.'
'Oh, yes? And have police swarming all over the place, upsetting Rosa? No way.'
Inwardly she was cursing Bruce. Was his malign influence going to spread over the whole of the rest of her life, blighting everything?
'I've made my decision,' she said, 'and now I know where I'm going from here.'
A light had come on inside her. Vincenzo was reminded of the night she'd returned from Murano, ablaze with confidence and decision.
'What are you going to do?'
'First, give up my job as soon as you can do without me.'
'Right now if you like. Celia's due back from honeymoon.'
'Can I stay in the apartment for a while?'
'Sure. She won't be moving back in. But what are you going to do?'
'Get in practice at my job. Hone my skills again before I start on your place.'
She thought for a moment before adding, 'There's one thing I'm grateful for, and that's that the Montressis were away. If they'd been there I might have stirred things up in a way I'd be regretting now.'
'He's lucky they never bumped into him,' Vincenzo observed. 'They might have recognised him.'
'Not really. I don't think he'd seen them for years. They were only very distant relatives, but I pinned everything on them because they were all I had. Well, I won't need to bother them now. I'm just going to get to work.'
In prison she'd done some drawing, and even taken an art class for other prisoners, but now she needed sustained work to bring herself back up to standard.
Taking sketch books and charcoal, she began to walk around Venice the next day, making rapid strokes, creating life on the paper.
At first she took in the showplaces, St Mark's, the Rialto Bridge, but then she turned away into the little canals, the calles with washing strung overhead, the empty boats bobbing in the water. The outlines were easy, but when she'd mastered them there was the more tantalising task of evoking the atmosphere of those mysterious little places.
Absorbed in this challenge, she took a while to realise that she wasn't alone. A small but determined ghost was flitting just behind her, always vanishing if she turned her head, but then emerging again in determined pursuit.
'All right,' she called at last. 'Come out where I can see you.'
A figure, swathed up to the eyebrows in scarves, and down to the ears in a thick woolly hat, emerged from around a corner and presented herself. Julia folded her arms, regarding her wryly. The figure immediately folded her own arms.
'Are you following me?' Julia asked.
