The meal continued with pasta in olive oil, followed by cream cod mousse and sweet biscuits, washed down with light, delicious wines.

Suddenly she said, ‘I was going to ask if you’ve been in touch with Gino since I arrived. But you must have been, and, since you haven’t mentioned it, I guess he doesn’t want to know.’

Pietro was taken by surprise, but realised that he shouldn’t have been. He was getting used to her sharp wits.

‘It’s not quite like that,’ he said cautiously.

‘Which means it’s exactly like that.’

‘He doesn’t remember the last evening exactly as you do. He thought you wanted to break up.’

‘But how could he?’

‘I don’t know, but he says you broke up with him.’

She stared, clearly thunderstruck.

‘But-but I didn’t,’ she stammered. ‘We had a lovely evening-he said he loved me.’ But then her shoulders sagged. ‘At least, that’s what I remember. But maybe I’m wrong.’

‘Maybe you’d had enough of his silly face and wanted something better,’ Pietro said kindly, trying to make light of it.

‘It doesn’t make sense,’ she said firmly. ‘If I’d changed my mind about him why didn’t I tell him on the phone before he ever came to England? Why wait until then?’

‘Perhaps you needed to see him to be sure?’ Pietro suggested.

‘And when I saw him in the restaurant that night I decided against him? But instead I remember how close we were. So I’m imagining that? I’m delusional? Well, there you are. I must be madder than I thought.’

‘I told you not to call yourself mad.’

‘Well, don’t tell me! If I want to abuse myself, I will. Who has a better right?’

He didn’t make the mistake of answering, but looked at her wryly until she calmed down and gave a little laugh, aimed at herself.

‘I warned you it would be tough,’ she said.

‘I can take it,’ he assured her.

‘Which version do you believe?’ she challenged. ‘His or mine?’

‘We both know he didn’t always stick to the truth. Look at this.’

He took out the photo albums and went through pages until he found the picture he wanted her to see. It showed Gino with a middle-aged woman. She was wearing an apron, and was busy in a kitchen.

‘That was his mother,’ Pietro said.

Ruth said nothing for a moment, then, ‘Did she work here?’

‘Yes, she was our cook for several years. That’s how it happened that he grew up here.’

‘So he’s not your cousin, not a Bagnelli?’

‘No, I’m afraid that was one of his fantasies.’

‘But I don’t understand. I thought you were both descended from the same Doge.’

‘That’s true, but Doges were elected. It wasn’t a hereditary position. There were over a hundred of them, from different families. Almost every true Venetian is descended from one Doge or another.’

‘But being a Bagnelli was another of his “fantasies”. Or shall we call them lies? When was he going to tell me the truth-if ever? Perhaps Gino himself was an illusion.’ She gave a laugh that was almost bitter. ‘Maybe he was just a hologram, and if I stretched out my hand it might have gone right through him.’

‘I think you’ve summed him up fairly well,’ Pietro said grimly. ‘Perhaps it’s useful that you’re beginning to see him more clearly.’

‘But it doesn’t change anything. I still need his help, even if I don’t-’

‘Don’t what?’ he asked. When she didn’t reply he said tensely, ‘Do you still love him? Ruth, try to tell me.’

CHAPTER FOUR

‘TELL me,’ Pietro urged again. ‘I know you’re trying to be very realistic about everything, but sometimes feelings aren’t realistic. After all that’s happened-is it possible that you still love him?’

He checked himself, sensing that his voice sounded too intent. Emotional pressure was bad for Ruth. He must try to remember.

‘Can you still love a man who’s treated you in such a way?’ he continued more calmly.

‘Treated me how? That’s what I don’t know.’

‘He didn’t stick around, you know that.’

‘But maybe I told him not to, like he said.’

‘Maybe.’ He didn’t sound convinced. ‘But what do you feel now?’

She shook her head helplessly.

‘How can I tell “then” and “now” apart? I remember how totally I loved him then.’

‘And you feel that love now?’

‘Yes-no-maybe, but it’s really just another hologram. Press a switch and it would probably vanish. Oh, hell! What’s the point of talking? I’ve got to discover the reality and look it in the eye.’ She smiled with a hint of mischief that disturbed his heart. ‘Maybe then I’ll spit in its eye.’

‘Reality may hit you harder than you imagine.’

‘Then I’ll hit back harder still. You don’t think I’m going to be beaten by a bit of reality, do you? That to it!’ She snapped her fingers.

‘Have you ever let anything get the better of you?’ he asked, honestly curious.

Making a face full of wicked glee, she replied, ‘I don’t know. I can’t remember.’

She gave a crow of amusement and he joined in, regarding her with admiration. But as his laughter faded hers went on, and there was a note in it that alarmed him.

‘Ruth, it’s not that funny,’ he said gently.

‘Yes, it is, it’s hilarious. It’s the funniest thing that ever happened. Can’t you see that?’

‘No,’ he said, gathering her shaking body into his arms. ‘I can see a great many things. You’d be surprised how much I can see. But I can’t see that.’

He held her tight, feeling her shaking intensify until he thought her laughter would change into tears. But something else happened. Suddenly she stopped shaking and he felt her shoulders stiffen. Gently but firmly she drew away and disengaged herself, saying in a changed voice, ‘OK, I’ve decided.’

‘Why does that scare me?’ he asked, trying to make light of it.

‘I’m not going to go on like this, living off your charity and wondering if Gino’s going to come home, and if he does, will he help me. That’s just leaving your fate in someone else’s hands, and nuts to it.’

‘Good. Keep going.’

‘I’m going to get a job, find somewhere to live, make my own way. If Gino comes back, he does. If he doesn’t, I’ll get on with life some other way.’

‘Fine. While you look for a job you can work for me for a while.’

‘I said no charity.’

‘Will you stop bristling like a hedgehog? You’d be doing me a favour. My other assistant didn’t come in today. She’s pregnant and having a hard time. If you’ll come in for a few weeks I can give her a leave of absence. She’ll get the rest she needs, I’ll get your language expertise, and everyone’s satisfied.’

She thought for a minute.

‘And I’ll pay you rent?’

‘I don’t need-’

‘It’s that or nothing.’

Where did she get the gall to make terms with him? he wondered.

‘All right, we’ll do it your way.’ He added lightly, ‘And I’ll wager that’s something you’re used to as well.’

She smiled. ‘Who knows?’ she said.

‘I have a feeling it’s going to be interesting finding out.’

When Ruth had gone to bed he sat by the window, looking out at the water, wondering if it had really only been two days since she’d come storming into his life, half drowned, half mad-as she would have put it-totally undefeated. Already it felt like a different universe.

The door opened and Minna looked in.

‘Do you want me for anything, signore?’

‘No, thank you, Minna. We’ve done the dishes.’

‘I keep asking you not to do that. It’s my job.’

‘Ruth insisted. You can’t argue with her.’

Minna gave him the motherly smile of someone who had worked for his family all her life, and had assumed possessive rights.

‘I’m so glad,’ she said. ‘It’s about time.’

‘No,’ he said hastily. ‘Minna, it’s not like that.’

‘Of course it isn’t. I don’t mean that at all.’

‘Then what?’

‘I came in earlier, and as I passed this door I heard you laughing.’

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.

I’m just being fanciful, she thought. I’ve got to stop that.

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, ‘Vital you call at once.’

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.’