Beth looked at her watch. It was close to nine p.m. ‘Thanks for that. I hope we didn’t keep you up too late?’
Courtney tightened the band that secured her dark brown ponytail. ‘No prob. Anyway, Danny’s not home yet either. I figured you guys would be, like, out together.’
‘Still at work, poor thing.’ Though the realisation of the lateness of the hour made Beth even more aware of how hard Danny was working just now.
‘Right. Do you need me to come by tomorrow? I wasn’t sure of your schedule since, like, your Florida thing got cancelled. That sucks, by the way. I read about this badass party Katy Perry was supposed to be hosting in Miami this weekend. Too bad you’re gonna miss out.’
Beth had to smile. Courtney liked to believe she and Danny led a glam life (possibly based on the travel photos that decorated the walls of their apartment) and she didn’t have the heart to burst the girl’s bubble and tell her that there wasn’t a chance in hell of them scoring an invitation to a celeb party.
‘I’m sure we’ll get there sometime. Thanks again, Courtney.’
‘No biggie.’ With a final snap of her gum, the teenager disappeared down the hallway.
As soon as Beth unlocked the door of her apartment she was greeted with the noisy patter of little paws as Brinkley streaked through the living room. The small spaniel lunged forward, bouncing the last few feet to close the distance between him and Beth. Grinning a happy doggy grin, his tongue lolled to one side of his mouth and he placed his front paws as far up as they could stretch on Beth’s legs, throwing his ears back and licking the air around her face as she leaned down to greet him.
‘Well, hello to you, too,’ she cooed, kissing the dog’s copper-coloured head and scratching behind his long, floppy ears. ‘Did you get to see Danny when he came home?’ The dog made some satisfied puppy noises; what they thought of as Brinkley’s ability to answer questions in his own doggy language. ‘Well, that’s good. At least one of us did.’
Beth’s flat-heeled boots clacked against the hardwood floor as she went through to the living room, flicking on lights. And even though it was dark outside and the apartment building was lit, she threw open the privacy drapes that covered the floor-to-ceiling windows lining the western-facing side. As she did, she took in what was undoubtedly the biggest selling point of this apartment (and the reason for at least fifty per cent of the rental cost); the breathtaking view that welcomed her from the twenty-eighth floor.
Lower Manhattan was awash in a sea of lights, and in the midst of all of it was the soaring spectacle of hope and optimism that was the Freedom Tower. Beth never tired of this almost celluloid view – the cityscape of Manhattan lying quite literally at her feet – and she lingered at the window for a moment, taking it all in.
Brinkley waited patiently beside her until she snapped out of her reverie and headed towards the kitchen, planning to make a cup of camomile tea and take some aspirin before settling into bed for the night. As she placed a mug of water in the microwave, she noticed a piece of paper on the worktop with Danny’s familiar handwriting on it.
‘Hi, sorry I didn’t call. Hectic day, and just came home to grab some clothes. Going to pull an all-nighter at the office, so don’t wait up. Need to power through on this creative brief for the new campaign. Call you in the morning. D. xoxoxo’
Beth sighed. Sometimes when the company’s new client campaigns were hot and heavy, Danny did stay overnight at the office, loading up on energy drinks and caffeine before sneaking in a couple of hours’ sleep on the couch in the waiting room. No doubt he would end up taking a quick shower in the morning in the gym attached to the company building on 34th Street.
The microwave beeped and she carefully extracted the mug with her hot water. Slipping in a camomile teabag, she waited for it to steep, when a picture on the wall on the other side of the breakfast bar caught her attention. Beth gave the teabag a few more dunks before shuffling out of the kitchen, and heading directly to the picture. The photo, held in an antique-looking gilded frame that was in direct contrast to the contemporary feel of their apartment’s décor, had been taken in Venice, Italy, six years ago.
In it, Beth and Danny had their arms wrapped around each other as they sat in a gondola off the Riva degli Schiavoni. Bright greenish-blue lagoon waters not altogether dissimilar to the colour of Danny’s eyes sparkled around them, and the island of San Giorgio Maggiore – which Monet famously portrayed at dusk – was behind them.
Beth remembered exactly how she’d been feeling right at that moment. She recalled the way the sun had lit up the café-lined street in front as the gondolier snapped their picture. She could still see in her mind the magnificent edifices of St Mark’s Basilica and the Doge’s Palace, and taste the freshness of the raspberries in the Bellinis from Harry’s Bar on the Grand Canal.
She looked closely at the picture, as if trying to recommit every detail to memory. Danny’s dark hair was a good deal longer than the shortened crop he sported now, his cheeks seemed fuller, and she noticed that his tanned and relaxed visage in the photo was a world apart from his current pale complexion. The outdoors really suited him, and Beth was struck by how the long hours at the office of late had clearly taken their toll not only on his demeanour but his appearance too. She was staring at the photo for so long that Brinkley finally placed one paw on her foot, his way of saying, ‘Hey, I’m here too, get a move on.’
Her trance-like state broken, Beth took a tentative sip of her hot tea and looked down at the little pup, who regarded her expectantly. ‘That, little man, was long before your time. But it was an incredible trip. A romantic, once-in-a-lifetime trip, in fact,’ she said quietly, feeling a very strong and sudden longing to be back in that gondola right at that moment, with Danny’s arms around her. She closed her eyes and could almost smell the sea air rushing off the Adriatic, and couldn’t deny that her heart ached just a little. She loved Danny, and she knew that he loved her. But she wished for something else, too: the sweeping moments; huge show-stopping scenes. Those happened so rarely in their relationship these days, but it hadn’t always been the case.
She scooped Brinkley up under one arm and headed to the bedroom. Within moments she was ready for bed, face scrubbed, aspirin taken, pyjama pants and comfy old T-shirt on. Brinkley made a home next to her beneath Danny’s pillow, soaking up the temporary luxury of not having to compete with them both for space.
‘Don’t get too used to that, buddy,’ Beth warned as she flipped on the TV, hoping she could find something that would lull her to sleep.
Roman Holiday,one of her favourite movies, was on Turner Classic Movies. Beth sighed contentedly, fixing her gaze on Audrey Hepburn and Gregory Peck at the Spanish Steps. She remembered this being one of the first movies Bridie had introduced her to, and felt a brief pang that her grandmother was no longer here to partake in the enjoyment. That was one of the most wonderful things about the movies, Beth thought, sitting quietly in the darkness, the experience was even better shared.
But then again she did have Brinkley.
‘Rome was part of that trip, too. Your daddy and I ate gelato right where they are standing.’ She pointed at the screen as the dog listened, tilting his head as if working to decipher her words. Beth smiled at Brinkley’s response, and a feeling of fresh melancholy washed over her as she recalled the details of that incredible trip.
Venice, Italy – Six Years Earlier
Beth emerged from Venice’s Santa Lucia train station into the bright sunlight of a September day. Stepping onto the Ponte della Costituzione, she was immediately struck by sensory overload.
The city’s famous Grand Canal greeted her along with the bustle of activity that populated the famous tourist hub. On the other side of the canal, she spied the Palazzo Foscari-Contarini and Suore di Maria Bambina, and had a hard time prying her eyes away from the aqua-blue water that glittered like a sea of topaz gems.
Danny put his arm around her waist and pulled her close. ‘Amazing, isn’t it?’
Beth turned to him and nodded. This was her first time in Italy and while Danny had been here years ago as a child, she had been excited for weeks at the prospect of sharing this romantic experience with him. They’d been going out a few months and she’d been taken aback (but thrilled) when one day he’d spontaneously suggested the trip. From there they were heading to Ireland for a couple of days so that Beth could introduce him to her parents in Galway. Things were moving fast but she’d known for a while that he was The One and she couldn’t wait for her parents to meet the handsome New Yorker who’d stolen her heart.
Venice – indeed, Italy – had always seemed impossibly romantic to her, and she couldn’t quite believe that the beauty of the place itself far outshone its celluloid depiction.
