of to bring you to the great pleasure city I can’t imagine.’
‘You wanted me to have fun, and I’m going to show my appreciation by having the best fun ever.’
‘That’s what I’m afraid of. Now push off while I make myself ready for the evening.’
‘But you haven’t brought any extra clothes with you.’
‘No, but I can try a little make-up.’
If it would make any difference, she thought, self-mockingly. In this beautiful place she was more than ever aware that her looks were commonplace.
Many women would have envied her slim figure but she regarded it askance.
A bit too slim? she thought. Thin? Perhaps. Frank used to say he liked me that way, but the creature I saw in his arms had luscious curves and they were all on display. Ah, well! What does it matter now?
She made up as elegantly as possible but she couldn’t rid herself of the feeling that the Duchess Araminta on the wall regarded her with disapproval. Nora had hinted that she was a courtesan, a woman who’d spent her life enticing men, and the message she seemed to send out to Sally was, Is that the best you can do?
‘Yes, it is,’ she replied defiantly. ‘We can’t all be great beauties.’
Soon there was a knock at her door and Pietro presented himself in another mask. This one wasn’t alarming, but cheeky, leaving his mouth free. He took her hand and they went to the dining room together, followed by Charlie and Toby.
Supper was a collection of fine Venetian dishes. Damiano was attentive, asking her several times if he could get her anything. She revelled in it, unable to remember when she had last been so spoilt, and determined to enjoy it to the full. She guessed the treat would not last long.
Charlie too was having the time of his life, plaguing Damiano with questions about things to enjoy in Venice.
‘There’s plenty to see,’ Damiano told him. ‘The palaces, the monuments—’
‘I meant something a bit livelier than that,’ Charlie said. ‘Places where things happen and you have fun.’
‘There’s La Fenice,’ Damiano mused. ‘I’ve been there many times myself and always enjoyed it.’
‘Do plenty of people go there?’ Charlie asked.
‘About a thousand every night.’
‘Oh, boy, what a place! What do they do when they get there?’
‘They sit quietly and watch the performance,’ Sally intervened before Charlie could make an even bigger ninny of himself. ‘It’s an opera house.’
‘Opera—? You mean—serious stuff?’ His tone revealed exactly what he thought of serious stuff.
‘Not necessarily,’ Damiano said. ‘Sometimes they perform comic operas. We might go to see one. I’ll arrange it if you like.’
Charlie gulped. ‘No need to go to any trouble for me,’ he said hastily.
Sally caught Damiano’s eye and smothered a laugh. It was clear that he had understood Charlie perfectly, and was enjoying teasing him. His quizzical look asked her if he’d got the situation right. She gave him a brief nod.
‘This food’s terrific,’ Charlie said, with the air of someone changing the subject at all costs.
‘I’ll tell the cook you said so,’ Damiano said. And the moment passed.
Pietro made the evening delightful. He’d taken a shine to Sally after the way she’d defended him and Toby. Especially Toby, who was allowed to stay curled up under the table, from where he could be fed titbits.
‘Can you really eat in that mask?’ she asked the boy. ‘I know it doesn’t exactly cover your mouth but it doesn’t look comfortable.’
His reply was to bite a sausage, which he only just managed.
‘All right,’ she laughed. ‘I guess I don’t understand masks. What does this one make you?’
‘A monkey,’ Pietro said ‘But I’ve got another one that makes me a mouse.’
‘I’d like to see that. But not now,’ she added quickly. ‘Finish your supper first.’
Giving a quick glance at his father, Pietro replied with a studied air of obedience that didn’t fool her for a moment.
‘Yes, signorina.’
‘Oh, please, not signorina. My name is Sally, and that’s what I like my friends to call me.’ She added anxiously, ‘We are friends, aren’t we?’
Pietro nodded eagerly, and returned to eating. But before long he began chatting again, so that it was hard for anybody else to get a word in edgeways. Occasionally there was a mild protest from his father, but on the whole Damiano seemed inclined to be indulgent. Once he mentioned bedtime, but Pietro’s cry of, ‘Please, Papa,’ was enough to make him retreat. Yet at last even Pietro was unable to hide the fact that he was falling asleep.
‘Go along,’ said his father. ‘Say goodnight.’
‘Goodnight, Papa.’ Pietro turned to Sally. ‘Goodnight, Sally.’
‘Goodnight, Pietro. Goodnight, Toby.’
‘Will you be coming back to see us again?’
‘Yes,’ Damiano said at once. ‘She will.’
But Pietro’s clasp on her hand tightened as though he was still uncertain.
‘Look,’ she said, ‘why don’t I come up with you and we’ll say goodnight up there?’
He nodded.
‘Go on,’ Damiano said gently.
He gave his father a brief hug, then seized Sally’s hand again. Together they went upstairs.
As soon as she went into Pietro’s room she saw two large photographs on the sideboard. Both were of women. One had a beautiful, gentle face. The other was reasonably good-looking, but with a face that was intelligent rather than charming. She guessed these were Damiano’s two wives.
When Pietro was in bed she opened her arms. He hugged her enthusiastically before snuggling down.
‘You really will come and see us again, won’t you?’ he asked.
‘Yes.’
‘Promise?’
‘Promise.’
She stayed with him until his eyes closed. Then she kissed his cheek and crept quietly away.
She found the dining room empty. At the far end was an open door that seemed to lure her on. She went to explore and found herself in a room with many windows overlooking the canal.
