How Floella must have chuckled to herself as she sent Natalie on her errand. How well suited the two of them would have seemed: Eraldo, a man who had sworn off permanent relationships after his wife’s untimely departure and lived in a city he’d never leave. And Natalie, a woman who couldn’t bring herself to trust anyone long enough to even contemplate getting serious. Floella had brought the pair of them together for a fun-filled fling. But she hadn’t predicted how things would play out.
Presenting a top TV show – Natalie’s childhood dream – hadn’t changed the way she felt about her life. Meeting Cate and Eraldo had. They had shown her what she was missing: a true friend and someone to love. She and Cate would be best friends for life now, but what were the chances of finding another man like Eraldo? Floella thought she’d been doing Natalie a favour. But she’d set her up for heartbreak.
Eraldo finished tidying away his tools. ‘I am sorry you had to wait for me.Andiamo! Let’s go! I hope you are hungry. Mamma is cooking up a feast.’
44
Natalie toyed with her cappuccino. Tomorrow would be the last time she would have breakfast Italian-style: standing up in a bar, coffee by her elbow, holding her paper-tissue-wrapped pastry. Cate was already on a plane home with Phil, looking forward to spending time with Ted and her dad before her boys came home for the holidays. Then, in a couple of weeks, the family would be travelling to Italy so Cate could try and make up for some of the time she and her mum had lost and Lina could meet her grandchildren at last.
Eraldo rested his elbow on the counter, his palm against his cheek. Sun streamed through the window, lighting up his dark hair. How could she let him go?
‘My family enjoyed meeting you,’ Eraldo said.
‘I’m glad. I liked them a lot. Your mother is very kind and an incredible cook – those sardines! And that polenta with shrimp! I ate far too much.’
‘That is the reason she liked you.’ The twitch of his lips told her he was only teasing.
‘Your cousin was so interesting. I knew making a gondola must be tricky but the work he described is so skilled – and I had no idea how much upkeep they need too.’
‘There has been talk of thesqueroclosing down. It would be a tragedy; all that talent and knowledge would be gone. But he confided in me last night that they may have some good news. They are discussing working with a prestigious English furniture maker to create some bespoke pieces incorporating many of the techniques they specialise in. It will be an extra source of income for them. At the moment, it is all like this…’ He put a finger to his lips. ‘But he did tell me it was a surprise suggestion from a businessman who spent a few hours at the workshop whilst his wife was visiting Burano, so I thought of your friends.’
‘Phil and Cate! It must be them. I expect they will start travelling here regularly if Phil has business interests and Cate will want to get to know her mum.’
‘And what about you?’ It was the question they’d both been avoiding.
‘I don’t want to leave.’
‘It is hard to visit Venice without falling in love with her.’
‘Not just Venice.’ She felt herself redden.
He cupped her face in his hands, his eyes scanning hers. ‘I have been thinking about… us. I do not want you to go back to England and everything we have to fade away. I have been asking Pietro’s advice and he found this…’
He took his phone from his trouser pocket and opened up a website.
‘A studio to rent in Hatton Garden, London,’ she read.
‘The centre of the jewellery and watch trade. I could make contacts, set up shop. It is good business there.’
She bit her lip. How easy it would be to urge him to leave Italy. But she knew she couldn’t.
‘No,’ Natalie said.
He laid his phone on the marble counter. ‘You do not want me to come to England?’
‘It’s not that. You would do well in London, of course you would; you’d get customers from all over the world. We could be together and perhaps you could reconnect with old friends of yours that Floella still sees. But England isn’t right for you; something would always be missing. Venice, this place, it’s deep within your soul. And it would be wrong to wrench you away from it.’
‘I know you are right. But I do not want this to end.’
‘Neither do I.’ She did not know what else she could say.
His phone’s jolly ringtone broke the silence.
His forehead creased. ‘It is Pietro. He never calls.’
‘Answer it.’ She needed a few moments to breathe, to take everything in.
‘Excuse me.’ He walked towards the door, phone clamped to his ear. Through the window, she watched him, waving his free hand as he spoke.
