He remembered that Ruth had started to laugh at her own predicament and he’d joined in until amusement had collapsed. But Minna hadn’t heard the anguish.
‘Do you know how long it’s been since you laughed?’ Minna asked, regarding him with the fond concern that all his servants felt, although they were careful to hide it.
‘A long time,’ he agreed. ‘But don’t-read anything into it.’
‘Of course not, signore. It’s just that it’s nice to hear you laugh again.’
Ruth awoke next day to find a thin strip of brilliant sunlight on the floor. Leaping out of bed, she pulled back the shutters on the windows, and was almost thrown back by the blinding light that streamed in. Rubbing her eyes, she finally managed to look out onto the Grand Canal.
Damp, miserable January seemed to have vanished without a trace. Now the light glittered on the water, showing the great canal snaking away, alive with boats. At this time of day they weren’t romantic gondolas but prosaic barges ferrying supplies to shops, hotels and restaurants, and carting rubbish away.
Ruth saw some of them pull into the side at the base of the Rialto Bridge, where people came forward to help unload them and carry their contents up to the shops that lined both sides of the bridge. Instinctively she leaned out and waved to the men on the water, and they waved back, grinning.
Another boat pulled into a small landing-stage by the palazzo, where a tall, powerfully built young man was waiting. Only his back and the top of his head was clearly visible, but Ruth could make out that he was wearing jeans and a tight-fitting short-sleeved vest that showed his muscular arms.
As the boxes were dumped onto the landing-stage he reached for the heaviest one, and hoisted it easily onto his shoulder with a sinuous movement that twisted his whole body, until it straightened up, untroubled by the weight. Ruth smiled, dispassionately admiring the casual display of grace and strength. Then the man raised his head a fraction and she saw that it was Pietro.
He didn’t see her, and was gone before she could react. It left her with a strange feeling, as though she’d seen him and not seen him. In a few days of his company she’d perceived him through the prism of her own need, and entirely missed the things that stood out so sharply now.
But this morning, for a split second, she’d had the chance to observe him only as a man, stripped of the irrelevant details that concealed his true self, a man with vibrant physical attractions that made him stand out from other men. The moment had passed and he was Count Bagnelli again, but the memory remained, a source of mysterious pleasure. She tucked it away for future consideration.
To her eyes the whole world was bright, alive, hopeful, and it perfectly matched her mood. Last night she’d come to a resolution, to take her fate in her own hands. It had made her feel reborn, and now she could almost imagine that Venice was doing its best to encourage her.
But she remembered Pietro saying how Venetians were like a family, offering a generous welcome. Perhaps she wasn’t being so fanciful after all.
By the time she joined Pietro he was more soberly dressed, ready for the shop.
‘I’m a new woman,’ she informed him. ‘And I’m going to do something spectacular to prove it.’
‘What?’ he asked, grinning.
‘Switch on my cell phone,’ she declared with a comical air of anticlimax.
‘It’s been off all this time?’
‘I switched it off at the airport in England, and since then I’ve had other things on my mind. Now’s the time to find out that all the mighty of the world have been queuing up to talk to me. Oh!’ She stared at the screen.
‘Anyone mighty?’ he asked.
‘The publisher who’s been giving me work. I sent him a book I’d translated from Spanish into English about a week ago. It’s surely too soon for a reaction.’
But the text message was,
There were two other texts in increasing agitation.
‘I must have made some ghastly error,’ Ruth said worriedly.
‘Don’t jump to conclusions,’ Pietro advised her.
‘But it’s obvious. There was me, thinking I was doing so well and I was making a foul up all the time.’
Pietro took her by the shoulders and gave her a gentle shake.
‘Hey, steady on. You don’t know any of this. Don’t put yourself down. You’re a new woman today, remember?’
‘That’s a joke. I’ve been fooling myself.’
‘And I say you haven’t. Now, stop panicking, call him and find out what he wants.’
As before she felt herself growing steady under his influence.
‘Right,’ she said. ‘Fine.’
‘Use my phone,’ he suggested suddenly, picking up the receiver. ‘Give me the number.’
She did so and he dialled, giving her the receiver. After a minute a man’s voice answered.
‘Hallo, Jack? It’s me? What did I do wrong?’
Before Jack could answer Pietro reached forward and pressed the loudspeaker button on the phone so that Jack’s voice boomed out for him to hear.
‘Wrong? Nothing. Everything’s fine. Senor Salvatore is well pleased. He’s a very difficult man, you know. His books have to be translated perfectly, or else! The book you did is the first in a trilogy, and he wants you to do the other two.’
Pietro gave her a thumbs up, and she beamed at him.
‘I’ve been going crazy,’ Jack continued, ‘not able to get hold of you, and him screeching that it’s you or nobody. Now I can get back to him and tell him that you’ve agreed to do them.’
Pietro shook his head.
‘But I haven’t agreed,’ Ruth said, taking her cue from him.
Jack’s reply was almost a yelp. ‘Yes, you have, you have,
‘No, Jack, I’m giving it a very good time,’ she responded with spirit. ‘I’m the answer to your prayers, remember?’
‘Only if you say yes.’
‘I’m thinking about it.’ Seeing Pietro make a gesture of rubbing his fingers against his thumb, she added, ‘What about money?’
‘I’ll up the money.’
‘Double it,’ Ruth said remorselessly.
‘One and a half.’
‘Double. You need me, remember?’
‘Anything, anything. Will you be home soon?’
‘No, I’m staying in Venice a while. You can send the books to the Palazzo Bagnelli.’ To Pietro she mouthed, ‘What’s the full address?’
He gave it to her and she passed it on to Jack, who assured her that the two books would be on their way to her immediately.
‘And the money for the one I’ve just finished,’ she reminded him. ‘That’ll be in my bank account any day now, won’t it?
He groaned. ‘You drive a hard bargain.’
‘Of course. I’m the best.’
She switched off and looked up to find Pietro’s eyes meeting hers. Together they crowed,
‘You cheeky so-and-so,’ she reproved him. ‘That’s why you wanted me to use your phone.’
‘I’m merely concerned for your welfare.’
‘You merely wanted a good snoop.’
‘They can be hard to tell apart,’ he conceded. ‘I’m used to worrying about you. I can’t just stop.’
‘I guess I don’t really want you to stop. I could still fall flat on my face, and who’ll pick me up, if not you?’
‘As long as that’s understood. I’m Chief Picker Upper-until you no longer need one.’
