A Family For Keeps

'Let's leave that for the moment. You need peace and space, and I'll let you have them while you're working for me.'

'All right, I'll take the job.'

'Good. You can have the apartment over the restaurant.'

She shook her head.

'Thank you, but I'll stay here. I can't leave Piero alone now. I know he was alone before, but something's changed. I have a feeling that he needs me.'

'I thought you had no feelings.'

'This is family obligation.'

'And you two are family?'

'Not by blood, but in other ways.' She added quickly, 'And that's not an emotion either. It's survival.'

'And what about me? Am I part of the family?'

She didn't answer, and he knew he was excluded from the charmed circle.

It ought not to matter. He still had relatives with whom he would spend Christmas, leaving these two misfits to whatever comfort they could find with each other. And yet it hurt.

As the month moved towards Christmas, winking lights glinted everywhere, in shop windows, strung across the streets and over the bridges.

People called out of windows and across bridges, wishing each other, 'Buon Natale.' Merry Christmas, Decorated trees appeared in the squares, and red-robed figures strode about the little city, waving cheerily and talking to children.

'Father Christmas,' Julia exclaimed, pleased.

'Babbo Natale,' Piero corrected her. 'That's what we call him. Babbo means "Father".'

'I thought that was padre?'

'Padre means "father" too,' Piero agreed. 'But it's more formal. Babbo is a kind of affectionate diminutive. Some children use it to their fathers, especially when they're very young.'

'Did Elena do that?' she asked.

'Oh, yes. I've always been Babbo to her, except for- well, there was a time when we argued a lot, and she started calling me Papa. But that's all over now, and when she comes back I'll be Babbo again. Hey, look over there! A whole collection of them!'

He pointed to the Grand Canal, where six red-garbed figures were rowing one gondola, accompanied by blaring Christmas music, and the subject of Elena was allowed to drop.

The week before Christmas she awoke to find Venice under snow. Delighted, she and Piero went out and walked arm in arm through the city that had been totally transformed. Snow-covered gondolas bobbed in the water, snow-covered bridges glittered over tiny canals. A brilliant, freezing sun poured down blindingly on the white blanket, and she had to shield her eyes from the glare.

Now there were musicians wandering the alleys and the piazzas, wearing the traditional shepherds' garb of buckskins and woollen cloaks, and playing bagpipes. The sweet, reedy sound pursued them to St Mark's, where they threw snowballs, ducking and diving, laughing at each other like people who hadn't a care in the world.

Vincenzo had insisted on giving her a generous amount of money for saving his home from damage. 'Your caretaker's bonus,' he called it.

Julia had immediately passed it on to Piero. When he'd demurred she'd told him that this was only half the amount, and she was merely sharing with him. From his sceptical look she'd doubted that he'd been fooled, but he'd accepted the money.

'Get something warm to wear,' she told him.

But as the days went on there was no sign of new clothes. Evidently he had other priorities, which he was not prepared to discuss.

She was a huge success at Il Pappagallo. Venice was filling up with Christmas tourists, and the restaurant was crowded every night. Some of the customers insisted on being served only by her.

She enjoyed this admiration, which made her laugh. Vincenzo, she was secretly pleased to note, didn't find it funny.

'You shouldn't let Antonnio monopolise you,' he said as they were walking through the dark calles one night. 'There are plenty of other customers.'

'He's the kind who always makes sure he's noticed,' Julia said lightly. Antonnio's persistent gallantry had done her ego a world of good.

'And you always make sure you serve him first,' Vincenzo growled.

'Only because he grabs that table near the kitchen.'

'Yes, so that he can grab your hand as you go past, and devour it,' he said, as close to ill tempered as she'd ever seen him.

'In future, I'll serve him.' She chuckled. 'He'll love that.'

'You're loving it.'

'Well, he did promise me a very special tip,' she mused.

'Be careful. Antonnio's "special tips" are legendary and they don't involve money.'

She took his arm. 'Oh, stop being so pompous. I'm just doing my job. And after six years shut up with women maybe I don't mind a little admiration.'

'A little admiration,' he scoffed. 'Another moment he'd have had you down on the floor.'

She didn't answer that with words, only with an ironic glance.

'I see,' he said grimly. 'Perhaps the woman who boasts of no feelings likes making me jealous?'

'The woman with no feelings says she doesn't belong to you, and you have no right to be jealous. What happened to your promise to back off and give me space?'

'I wouldn't be the first man to make a promise he can't keep.'

'Vincenzo, what are you hoping for?'

He shrugged. 'Maybe I'm waiting to meet Sophie.'

'She's gone. She died some time during my second year in gaol. She won't come back.'

'You're wrong. She never completely went away. That's why I can't free myself of you.'

They had come to a halt under a lamp that showed them to each other in bleached, unearthly hues. Her face, once too thin, had filled out a little, he realised, and lost some of its tormented look. She had fine, beautiful bone structure, and the slight extra flesh suited her, reclaiming some of her youth.

Tonight she had revelled, siren-like, in her customers' adulation, making him wonder at the different moods that turned her into so many people. Any of them, or none of them, could be the real woman, and all of them were driving him mad.

'You should try harder to free yourself from me,' she said. 'It's just a question of being strong-minded.'

'Maybe I don't want to be strong-minded.'

Snow began to fall, just a few flakes at first, then more and more. Through them she searched his face in the cold light. 'In the end I'll go away and leave you,' she whispered. 'Like everyone else.'

'I know,' he said sadly. 'But who knows when the end will be? Not tonight.'

As he spoke he gathered her into his arms, and she went into them easily, offering her lips to his kiss and returning it with passion.

She knew that very passion was her enemy. It threatened to distract her from her purpose, but she couldn't help it. He brought her back to life, and the feeling was sweet, wild, and frightening.

'No-no-' she whispered, more to herself than him. He drew back to look at her with troubled eyes. 'Do you want me to stop?'

'No,' she said explosively, fastening her mouth on his. She was kissing him with frantic desire, possessed by feelings that were almost too sweet to be borne. It was she who explored his mouth, almost attacking him in her urgency, teasing his lips, his tongue, feeling the deep satisfaction of his response.

'Stay with me tonight,' he murmured against her mouth.

But she shook her head. 'Not now-not tonight-'

'Mio Dio! How much do you think one man can stand?You're not being fair. He ill-used you and you revenge yourself on us all.'

'No, it's not that, I swear it. But I don't feel that I belong anywhere. The past is over and I can't tell about the future.'

'Your daughter is all that matters to you, I know that.' He sighed, resting his forehead against hers. 'But I can be patient and hope for my turn.'

'Even if it never comes?'

'Do you believe that one day you'll get your heart's desire?'

'I have to,' she whispered.

'So do I. Let's leave it there, and hope for better times.'