A Family For Keeps

A nod.

'Is anyone with you?'

A shake of the head.

'You've run away on your own?'

The eyes were as mischievous as the voice. 'I'm not on my own. I'm with you.'

Rosa pulled down the scarf, revealing a cheeky grin.

'Uncle Vincenzo let me come to the restaurant with him today. He said you were upstairs so I was going to go up, but then I saw you leaving by the side door. So I followed.'

'Does anyone know where you are?'

'Yes. You do.'

'I don't think that's quite enough,' Julia said, trying not to laugh, and pulling out her cell phone. In a moment she was through to the restaurant.

'Vincenzo? I've someone here who needs to talk to you.' She held out the phone to Rosa. 'Talk.'

Rosa giggled and began her persuasion.

'I ran after Julia, and she says I can spend the day with her-'

'I said no such thing.'

'But you were just going to, weren't you? I can, can't I, Uncle?'

'Give that to me before you land me in trouble,' Julia said, hastily seizing the phone. 'Vincenzo?'

'I'd only just discovered that you're both gone,' came his harassed voice.

'Vincenzo, if you're thinking what I think you are, I'll never forgive you.'

There was a silence.

'I wasn't thinking that.'

'Really?'

'I wasn't thinking that you'd run off with her,' he said tensely.

'You'd better be sure about that.'

'Is she all right?'

'Of course she is. She's having the time of her life laughing at both of us. You'd better let her stay with me officially, otherwise she'll just creep after me at a distance. Don't worry, she's safe with me.'

She couldn't resist adding, 'Whether I'm safe with her is another matter.'

At this Rosa gave a giggle that clearly reached Vincenzo down the line.

'I'll say yes-having no choice. But you'd better put yourself in her hands. She knows Venice better than you do.'

Julia hung up and turned to her daughter. 'We're going to have a great time.'

Rosa gave a brilliant smile, took her hand, and they wandered on together.

'What did you think Uncle Vincenzo was thinking?' Rosa asked.

'It's a long, complicated story,' Julia said hastily. 'I'll tell you another time.'

After that the child said little, simply seeming to be content to be in Julia's company. And it was she who chose the next object to draw, pointing at an ornate bridge.

Julia promptly took out her sketch book, sat on a small flight of steps, and began to work rapidly. When she'd finished she showed the result to Rosa, who gave her an impish look, took the book, flipped over a page, and began to make a sketch of her own.

With disbelieving pleasure Julia looked at the result.

'You can draw,' she breathed.

Another page, another rapid sketch, drawn with an inexperienced but confident hand. Beneath a quiet surface Rosa was already a boldly confident artist. This was truly her daughter.

'Papa didn't like me drawing,' she confided. 'He said it was a waste of time. But Mamma said I should do it if I wanted to. It was our secret.'

'She was-' Julia checked herself and started again. 'Your mother was right.'

The words were hard to say, but she felt she owed Bianca that much.

After that, wherever they stopped, they shared the drawing. Julia showed the little girl some new strokes, and had the delight of discovering a responsive pupil'. It was a perfect day.

But then something happened that was like the sun going in.

As they moved closer to the glamorous heart of the city she noticed that almost every street had a shop that sold wild, colourful masks for the coming Carnival. Several times she would have stopped to look closely, but Rosa always pulled her on.

'Hey, stop a minute,' Julia begged at last.

Rosa stopped obediently and stood beside her, looking into the window. But she said nothing.

'They're for the Carnival, aren't they?' Julia said.

'That's right.' Just the two short words, almost snapped out.

'It's quite soon, isn't it?'

'Next month.'

'I've seen pictures, of course-people in those incredible costumes-it must be so exciting.'

'Yes, it is.'

Julia turned her head uneasily to look at the child, conscious of something strange in her replies. Her delight of only a few minutes ago had been abruptly quenched. Now she spoke like a robot, and her face was stiff.

Then Julia remembered Vincenzo saying, 'Last year she had a wonderful time at Carnival with James and Bianca, but this year she refuses to think of it.'

Silently calling herself a fool, she said, 'Why don't we go and have something to eat?'

Rosa nodded and followed her to a little cafe. When they were seated with milk shakes she said, 'I'm sorry. I didn't think. It's your parents, isn't it?'

Rosa nodded. After a moment she said, 'I had a costume with lots and lots of colours last year, but this year I wanted a pink satin one. So Mamma bought it for me last July. She said we'd keep it for the next Carnival. Only then-'

She stopped. She was controlling herself almost fiercely, but her lips trembled.

'And you don't want to go without her?' Julia asked gently.

'I won't ever go again,' Rosa said, calming herself at last. Now her voice was too controlled, too unyielding. Julia took a risk.

'I think you're wrong,' she said. 'If Mamma bought that lovely pink dress for you, then she'd want you to wear it, for her sake.'

'But she won't be there.'

'No, but you can think about her, and you'll know that you're doing it for her.'

'But that won't bring her back, will it?'

'It'll bring her back in your heart, which is where it really matters.'

Rosa didn't answer this, but she shook her head stubbornly. The impish confidence was gone, replaced by a stark misery that was all the worse because she felt that nobody really understood.

'Let's go back,' Julia said gently. 'Vincenzo will be worrying about us.'

The sun had gone from the day and a dreary rain had begun to fall. They found Vincenzo at the door, looking for them.

'What is it?' he asked as soon as he saw Rosa's face.

In a quiet voice Julia explained. Instantly Vincenzo put his hands on the little girl's shoulders, searching her face tenderly.

'Hey there, piccina,' he said. 'Have you been crying?'

She shook her head. 'I just remembered what you said-about how everyone leaves you.'

'What?' he said, aghast. 'Rosa, I never said that.'

'Yes, you did. You said it to someone at Mamma and Papa's funeral. I overheard.'

'But I-' Vincenzo checked. What use was it to say that he hadn't known she was listening? 'Cara, I was feeling terrible, and that's the sort of thing people say when-when-I didn't mean it.'

'Yes, you did,' she said quietly, looking him straight in the eye. 'And it's true. People leave you even when you