‘I got very lofty and humourless,’ she said after a while. ‘I told Gino sternly that he had no right to tell lies just to make things sound romantic when they weren’t. D’you know what he said?’
Pietro shook his head.
‘He said, “But,
He had to laugh at her droll manner. ‘Did you forgive him?’
‘Of course. You have to forgive Gino his funny little ways.’
He noted her use of the present tense, as though Gino were still a presence in her life. Was this how she explained his desertion to herself? Gino’s funny little ways?
Ruth went on talking about her day, putting a light-hearted gloss on it, while he watched her with a heavy heart. A stranger would never have known the anguish that lay behind her flippant manner. But he saw it, because it was like looking at himself.
CHAPTER THREE
‘THE trouble with you,’ Pietro said at last, ‘is that you’re not organised. You need to do this properly, with someone who knows Venice and who can keep an eye on you to stop you doing something daft.’
‘Well, I’m interviewing applicants for the position,’ Ruth said promptly. ‘There’s no salary, unpredictable hours and it needs to be someone who can put up with me.’
‘I’ll consider myself hired.’
‘I haven’t offered you the job yet,’ she protested in mock indignation.
‘Fine. Shall I wait at the end of the queue? If you’re wise you’ll snap me up while I’m on offer.’
‘Now which one of us is mad?’ she chided him.
‘Fifty-fifty, I’d say. It’s best that way. We may be the only people in the world who can cope with each other.’
‘But haven’t you got your firm to run?’
‘I have a good manager, and January isn’t busy.’
They left the restaurant and wandered back to the path by the water just as a
‘That’ll take us down the Grand Canal as far as we need to go,’ Pietro said, seizing her hand and beginning to run.
They made it onto the great water-bus just in time, and laughed, holding themselves against the rails until a wave made the boat lurch, sending her stumbling against him. He steadied her, reminded again how insubstantial she was.
But then she gave him a cheerful smile and he realised that it was only her body that was frail. Tonight he’d glimpsed her cheeky fighting spirit, and he liked it.
‘Shall we sit down for safety?’ he asked.
‘No, thanks, I’m fine.’
Ruth fixed one hand onto the upright rail and leaned slightly over the side, gazing down into the water rushing by. With a sigh of resignation Pietro wound an arm about her waist, holding her safe. It was simpler than remonstrating with her.
But it was a mistake, bringing back the previous night when she’d put her arms about his neck, kissing him again and again in the joy of eager young love. It had been so long since a woman had kissed him that he’d tensed, holding himself still, not responding to the shock, then waking her gently.
To his relief she hadn’t seemed to know what had happened, and he’d managed to block it out of his mind. But it was there again now, her lips on his mouth, her body pressed against his, sweet and vulnerable. He tried to banish the memory, knowing that he had no right to it. It belonged to Gino, to a man who hadn’t cared enough to claim it.
As soon as they got home he bid her goodnight and hurried to his own room to check his cell phone, but there was no message. Annoyed, he dialled, and, to his relief, Gino answered.
‘Sorry, sorry, I know you said it was urgent,’ came his cheery voice. ‘But I’m a bit tied up.’
‘Then get untied and talk to me about Ruth Denver.’
There was a silence.
‘What about her?’ Gino asked in a thin voice.
‘She’s here.’
There was no mistaking the tone of his voice, Pietro thought grimly. Gino was aghast.
‘She came to find you. She needs your help to recover from her injuries. Gino, you said she dumped you. You never mentioned an attack.’
‘Look-it’s not-The attack has nothing to do with it. She did dump me.’
‘That’s not what she says.’
‘What-exactly does she say?’
Through the ultra-cautious words Pietro could sense the cogs and wheels of the lad’s mind turning, and it filled him with dismay.
‘She says you spent a loving evening together at the restaurant, then you were attacked by thugs. After that she lost her memory. When she saw you again she didn’t recognise you.’
‘Oh, she recognised me all right. We didn’t have a loving evening. She told me it was over. I haunted the hospital until I knew she was better, but when she saw me she told me to go. Why do you think I never got in touch with her again? Because that was what she wanted.’
Pietro groaned, not knowing what to believe.
‘What did she mean about me helping her with her injuries?’ Gino asked.
‘She has gaps in her memory and she wants you to help fill them.’
‘That explains a lot. Pietro, this is one very troubled lady. She doesn’t know what really happened and what didn’t.’
‘All the more reason for you to come back and help clear her mind.’
‘But surely I’ll just confuse her more? What’s that?’ Gino’s voice sounded as though he’d turned his head to reply to someone. Then it became stronger again. ‘Look, I’ve got to go. There’s someone at the door.’
The line went dead.
Pietro cursed, knowing that Gino had made an excuse to escape.
He was more worried than he wanted to admit. It was just possible that Gino’s version was correct, and Ruth was so disturbed that she didn’t know what had really happened. She’d even partially admitted that.
But then he recalled her smiling as she said, ‘You have to forgive Gino his funny little ways.’
There had been a kindly tolerance in her voice that simply didn’t fit with the picture Gino was trying to paint. That was surely the real Ruth, forgiving and generous?
For some reason he wanted to believe this of her. But how could he tell when even she didn’t know the full truth about herself? For the first time he fully understood the implications of her confusion, and how it might prove to be a nightmare, not only for her, but also perhaps for him.
Over breakfast next morning Pietro said, ‘I have a few things to check, then I’m ready to take up my new position as your right-hand man.’
‘Look, that was only a joke,’ Ruth said hastily. ‘I don’t really expect you to give up your time to me.’
‘You may have been joking. I wasn’t. You should try to relax. The more you worry, the less clear your mind will become.’
The rain had gone and it was a fine morning as they set out to walk to St Mark’s Piazza. Along the way the shops were opening, the owners arranging goods outside, smiling as they saw Pietro. Most of them hailed him, and some eyed Ruth with a look that said, ‘Ah, you found her, then?’
She smiled back, relishing the feeling of being enveloped in kindness.
