‘Impossible. I’d have known.’
‘Would you? I’m talking about history, before you were born. And I don’t suppose the family spoke of it in case it damaged the girls’ marriage prospects. But Lisetta would have known the chance she was taking.’
He turned and stared at her, stunned as the full implications of this dawned on him.
‘Can’t you understand?’ Ruth pleaded. ‘She didn’t do it your way, you did it her way. She staked everything on one throw of the dice, and when she lost she didn’t complain. And you should respect that. Grieve for her, yes, but don’t feel guilty about her, because that insults her.’
‘All the time,’ he said huskily. ‘All the time-she knew-’
‘All the time,’ Ruth confirmed. ‘She wasn’t a helpless victim. She was a high roller, who had the guts to go for broke and see it right through. And she had her moment, at the end, when she held her living baby, and you were there. She didn’t lose everything.’
‘How do you understand so much about her?’ he asked slowly.
‘Because I have something in common with her, with my different “selves”. She had another ‘self’ too, only you didn’t see it because it happened inside her, but it was her real self, the one that made the decisions, and decided in the end that you were worth any sacrifice. Accept that sacrifice, and honour her for it, but don’t feel guilty, because it was her doing, not yours.’
Pietro leaned back against the wall, his face strained.
‘How can I let myself believe this?’ he whispered. ‘I want to believe it so much, but do I have any right?’
‘Pietro, you have to believe it for her sake. She doesn’t want you to spend the rest of your life grieving and punishing yourself. She only ever wanted the best for you. Live your life. Be happy. That’s all she cared about.’
He took her hand and held it against his cheek. All the fight and ferocity had gone out of him.
‘Thank you,’ he said simply. ‘I can’t see as far as you do, but I trust your vision more than my own. You’ll have to show me.’
For a moment she rubbed her cheek against his hand.
‘Then I’ll give you a piece of sensible advice,’ she said. ‘Go to bed, either to sleep or to think. They’ll both do you good. You’ll be happier in the morning.’
‘You’ll still be here, won’t you?’ he asked anxiously.
‘Yes, I promise not to go away without telling you.’
Still he hesitated, and suddenly she knew that if she followed him into his room tonight, he wouldn’t turn her away. With all her heart she longed to do so, but she forced herself to back off. The time wasn’t right. Whatever future they might have could be endangered if she acted carelessly at this crucial moment.
Don’t grab for it. Wait for the dice to give it to you.
‘Goodnight,’ she said.
‘Everything changed-the day you came,’ he said slowly.
‘Yes. But it’s too soon to say how. Goodnight.’
This time he went, although his eyes lingered on her until the door closed.
Ruth was torn by indecision. Had she done the right thing, throwing away her chance when it came? But instinct still told her that the time wasn’t right.
That night she fell asleep with her fingers crossed.
She got up next morning to find Pietro dressed and ready to leave.
‘I’m going to San Michele,’ he said. ‘I have to see Lisetta. I don’t suppose-would you come with me?’
But Ruth shook her head.
‘No, this is just you and her.’
He nodded and turned to go, but something made her call him back.
‘Pietro-don’t ever take another woman to visit her grave, not now or ever in the future.’
‘Does that apply, whoever the woman is?’ He was watching her.
‘Whoever she is, leave her out of sight. Let Lisetta have you all to herself. She’s earned it.’
‘Will you promise that you’ll still be here when I get back?’
‘I promise.’
She had no time to brood over him that day. The business of getting rid of Serafina took several hours and was accomplished by a display of firmness on Ruth’s part that won her Minna’s glowing admiration.
‘No wonder the master dressed you in diamonds,’ she said.
‘Diamonds?’
‘Sewn into the front of your costume last night.’
‘I thought that was glass,’ she said, aghast. ‘No wonder everyone was giving me those funny looks.’
Minna roared with laughter and went off to tell Celia in a knowing way that it wouldn’t be long now.
Ruth stayed at home all day, so as to be sure that Pietro would find her there whenever he arrived. When the phone rang she answered it quickly. But it was Mario.
They discussed business for a while, but before he hung up he said, ‘I’ve just checked Pietro’s emails. There’s one from Gino to say he’s going to be here tomorrow. I thought he’d want to know.’
‘Thanks, Mario, I’ll tell him.’
But when will I tell him? she wondered when she’d hung up.
She’d counted on having a little more time, but this changed things, forcing her hand. If Gino was returning tomorrow then she must take action tonight.
This was how the dice had fallen.
Pietro was calm and peaceful when he returned that evening. She didn’t ask questions but waited for him to choose his own moment. Only when Minna had finally left them did he meet her eyes.
‘Everything was different,’ he said simply. ‘In the past I’ve always asked her forgiveness. This time I just thanked her. And it felt right, as it never has before.’
The dice were rolling into place. Double six. Only one more to go.
‘What have you done today?’ he asked.
‘Thought about you, how you were coping.’
‘I can manage now, thanks to you. But you won’t go yet, will you?’ he added quickly.
‘I won’t go while you want me.’
From outside came the sound of singing. Going to the window, they saw a ‘serenade’-a procession of seven gondolas, each one with a singer, hymning the moon. As they approached the Rialto Bridge a number of sad-faced clowns tossed petals down on them.
‘They sound so melancholy,’ Ruth observed.
‘Carnival is nearly over,’ Pietro said. ‘And that is always sad.’
The procession of boats had paused outside the palazzo, while the leading singer turned to the window where they were standing, and serenaded them in Venetian.
Pietro began to translate.
‘Now the time is passing-all is over-shall we meet again another year-or shall we have only our memories?’
He stood just behind her, his hands laid gently on her shoulders.
‘I’ve got something to tell you,’ she said. ‘Mario checked your email and he says Gino’s coming back tomorrow.’
He reacted at once, snatching his hands from her shoulders and stepping back.
‘Why do you do that?’ she asked, swinging round to him.
‘Gino-’
‘So what, Gino? He’s not part of my life now. I don’t love him, I love you. And that’s not going to change.’
‘It might. When you see him-’
She reached out, putting her hands on either side of his face.
‘You’re doing it again, trying to take charge of every detail. But I say how I feel, not you. I make this decision, not you, and I’ve made it. I’m a grown woman, and I know what I want.’
‘And what-do you want?’ he asked, almost hypnotised by the force she radiated.
‘This,’ she said, and drew his head down to hers.
He laid his hands on her, unable to resist that much. But he was still fighting himself, not moving his lips on hers, except to say, ‘This is dangerous.’
‘Yes, isn’t it wonderful?’ she challenged him. ‘Stop thinking with your head. That’s more dangerous than anything.’
She kissed him again, and when she drew back he was smiling.
‘It’s not supposed to be this way,’ he murmured. ‘I’m expected to be the one in charge.’