‘So, you will take this. A good choice. And perhaps this.’ The spaghetti-slim shop girl draped a floor-length cape fashioned from layers of acid-yellow feathers around Cate’s shoulders. Natalie coughed back a laugh she hoped could be attributed to the pungent smoke rising from the oil burner on the heavily veined, marble mantelpiece. ‘And for you, Natalie,’ the salesgirl purred, ‘this satin bomber embroidered with eagles.’
‘How unusual.’ Natalie shrugged on the cropped jacket. Three-dimensional metallic thread and sequined wings protruded above each of her breasts. Lucia’s expression was unreadable. Natalie had to hope this would be edited out but if it wasn’t cut, at least it would give her mum and dad a good laugh – if Mum hadn’t fainted at the sight of the sky-high price tags.
‘I’ll just take the jumpsuit, please. Anything for you, Natalie?’ Cate’s eyes were as innocent as the Madonnas’ in the Accademia.
‘Not for me, unfortunately.’ Natalie smiled at the camera. ‘I’m here to report on the luxury lifestyle of Venice’s elite, not to live it… Are you sure there’s nothing else for you here… This, perhaps? Furs are very much part of the Italian look.’ She picked up a strange oval bag that seemed to have been stitched together from the skins of a dozen small rodents.
‘The embroidered evening purse we found earlier will be quite sufficient,’ Cate replied smoothly.
The camera crew began packing up. Cate helped Lucia to gather up the half-dozen ribbon-tied bags from Simona Rinaldi they’d left discreetly out of camera shot.
The assistant handed Cate a single dayglo orange bag containing the gold tissue-paper-wrapped jumpsuit and wished them a formal goodbye.
The glass door swung shut behind them. Natalie breathed in a great lungful of unperfumed fresh air. ‘What a place!’
Lucia shook her head. ‘I cannot imagine what the countess buys in there. But the jumpsuit you found, Cate, it is very beautiful.’
Cate laughed. ‘It was the only wearable thing in the shop. Do you think they ordered it by mistake? I suppose we’ll need to go back to the palazzo now; we won’t be able to carry all these bags around with us.’
‘Oh, no,’ Lucia interrupted. ‘I will take these bags back; the housekeeper will have everything hung up for you. You are free to carry on shopping. I will pop my folder in with this dark jacket, if you don’t mind, Cate; it will do it no harm.’ Lucia undid the ribbon on one of the logoed carrier bags.
‘More shopping, Cate?’ Natalie couldn’t face another boutique but she thought she’d better offer.
‘Only one. Salvatore Ferragamo – I’d like to choose Phil a new tie.’
‘Certo! I will show you both where that is.’ Lucia set off briskly, leading them through the narrowcalleuntil they came to a wide street of designer shops. ‘There on the end, right by the small canal.’
‘Thank you, Lucia. I will see you later.’ Cate bent to kiss Lucia’s cheeks.
‘Have a lovely day. We will not need you until tonight, Cate, when we film you and Philip arriving atLa Fenicefor the opera. Your husband’s flight was due to leave on time, I believe.’
‘Thank goodness,’ Natalie added.
Lucia gathered up all Cate’s purchases and set off in the direction of the vaporetto stop.
The search for Phil’s new tie took no more than ten minutes. Cate and Natalie stepped out of the air-conditioned shop. The day was getting warmer. Shorn of Lucia’s presence, Natalie felt stripped naked.
‘Well, what now?’ Cate said.
Natalie racked her brain for an idea. But how could she choose what to do today when all she could think about was the past?
16
VENICE, TWENTY-FIVE YEARS EARLIER
Eight beds were crammed into the dormitory. Julie Paine stood slap bang in front of the only mirror in the room, wielding a pink hairdryer she’d pinched from Shy Kelly. Natalie sat on her narrow, metal-framed bed fiddling with the broken elastic on the mask she’d so carefully created. She tied the two ends back together; it made the mask fit a bit too tightly and some of the glitter had dropped off. But she didn’t care. Everyone was looking forward to tonight, apart from her. Over breakfast, she’d tried to ask Cathy what she’d done wrong at the Accademia gallery but her old friend just shrugged and went back to sucking up to Julie and her new mates.
‘I can’t believe we’re going to a party,’ Tall Polly squealed for the umpteenth time.
‘A masked ball isn’t a party, it’s a cultural event, and you will behave appropriately,’ Natalie said, mimicking Mrs Nickson’s haughty tones. She hoped Cathy would laugh the way she always did when Natalie did one of her impressions, but Cathy just peered into her hand mirror, dabbing at her spots with a grubby-looking sponge caked in Maybelline concealer.
‘Do you think those boys from the posh school will be going tonight? Do you think they’ll recognise us when we’re wearing our carnival masks?’ Shy Kelly fretted.
Julie smirked. ‘Youdon’t need to worry; they’ll recognise your mousey hair and big conk anywhere. And they’ll all recognise me.’ She tossed the hairdryer onto Kelly’s bed, flicking back her hair. ‘Tell me what you want, what you really, really want,’she sang into the mirror, gyrating her hips, hips that sported Cathy’s prized chain belt. The one she’d never lend anybody, not even Natalie.
Julie sprayed on an ozone-obliterating blast of Impulse, blew a kiss at the mirror and span around to face her audience. ‘I reckon those boyswillbe going and that blond, tall, good-looking one is mine.’ Julie’s eyes narrowed. ‘So, don’t any of you lot think for a minute you’re going to get near him. At least I won’t have to worry about you, will I, Natalie? You’ll be snogging that boy you were flirting with yesterday.’
‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’ Natalie wouldn’t even speak to any boys tonight, not even the harmless, nerdy one with the trendy trainers. She already felt enough of an outcast without deliberately courting evil looks from Julie and her mates.
