A Family For Keeps

'I don't know, cara. He had his own way of seeing things. Perhaps we shouldn't have come.'

'Oh, but you promised. I've been looking forward to it.'

'But it's a gloomy place, for you.'

'It wasn't always gloomy, though, was it?'

'No, my darling. Once it was full of lights and laughter. But that was a long time ago.'

Julia lay on top of the bookcase, unable not to eavesdrop, her heart beating fast at the sound of her daughter's voice. But Vincenzo's voice also caught her attention. There was no harshness in it now. It was gentle and tender as he spoke to the child.

They must just be on the stairs below, and she could hear him very clearly, talking about the old days in this place. Sometimes the little girl laughed, and then he laughed with her. They were delightful together. Julia lay there, high up, listening, torn between sadness and aching delight.

But she couldn't stay here, waiting to be discovered. Slowly she began to inch to the edge of the bookcase, from where she could get to the stepladder.

Nearly there-nearly there-one hand on the ladder- a few more inches-

But the ladder moved as she touched it. Grasping frantically, she somehow lurched back against the bookcase, and the next moment the whole lot came crashing down to the floor, with her underneath.

For a moment she lay still, trapped beneath everything, more winded than hurt.

She heard Vincenzo call, 'Rosa, come back here-' and the next moment the child came flying around the corner.

'Uncle Vincenzo, come quickly.'

He appeared a moment later, frowning at the sight, then exclaiming violently as he recognised her.

'It's the lady from yesterday,' Rosa cried.

'Julia, what the devil? Julia!'

'I'm all right,' she gasped. 'If you could just get this stuff off me-'

Instantly the child reached out tiny hands to the bookcase.

'Get back,' Vincenzo told her sharply. 'You'll hurt yourself.'

When he was sure she was clear he removed the step-ladder, then lifted the bookcase and swung it right away.

'Don't try to get up,' he ordered Julia as she began to move.

'I'm all right,' she said decidedly. 'No bones broken.'

'Your forehead's bleeding,' Rosa said.

She touched it and found the trickle of blood. Then Vincenzo's arms went about her and he was helping her to her feet.

'Can you walk?'

'Yes, of course I-hey.'

He'd lifted her and was carrying her to the room that had been the count's bedroom. Rosa ran ahead and opened the door so that he could go through and lay her on the great bed. He pulled off his jacket and put it under her head as a pillow. Then he sat beside her, glaring.

'If you aren't the most-what the devil were you doing?'

'Looking at your frescoes.'

'Why?'

'It's about time somebody did. It's my job.'

'You have to do it here and now?' he demanded, astounded and exasperated in equal measure. 'No- wait-that can come later. You need a doctor.'

'I just had a little fall and a few bruises. But I could do with something to drink.'

'I'll get you some water from the pump. Rosa, stay with her. Don't let her get up.'

He left the room, and at once the child came to the bed, as though standing guard.

'It's all right,' Julia said. 'I'm not going to run away.'

'Good, because Uncle Vincenzo says you mustn't.'

'Do people always do what Uncle Vincenzo says?'

Rosa considered this seriously. 'Sometimes.'

'Do you?'

She shook her head solemnly. Julia wondered if she was imagining a gleam of mischief in the childish eyes. She would have liked to believe it was there.

'You're the lady I met yesterday, aren't you?'

Julia nodded.

'Why are you here?'

'I'm an art restorer.'

'Is that the same as an artist?'

'No, I was never much good as an artist, so I look after other people's pictures, and repair them.'

'Are you doing that for Uncle Vincenzo?'

'The truth is that I had no right to be here. I'm just nosy, I'm afraid.'

This admission seemed to strike a response in the child.

'Oh, yes, like when you're looking at a book of pictures and you've just got to keep turning over more and more pages.'

'That's it,' Julia said. 'The pictures are so beautiful that you can't get enough.'

'And you wish ever so much that you could make pictures like them,' Rosa said wistfully. 'But you just can't.'

Julia looked up quickly to see Vincenzo standing in the doorway. She hadn't heard him come in, and wondered how long he'd been there.

Rosa was full of eagerness.

'Uncle, this lady understands about pictures and wanting to look at them even though it's time to go to bed.'

Vincenzo grinned. 'We have constant battles about bedtime in our house.'

He brought a glass of water to the bed and offered it to Julia, who was hauling herself up painfully.

'Thank you,' she gasped, fumbling for the glass.

But it was Rosa who secured it, climbing onto the bed and directing Vincenzo to hold Julia up. He slipped his arms beneath her shoulders while the little girl held the glass to her lips.

'Can I have your hankie, please. Uncle?'

He handed over a clean handkerchief, and Rosa used it to dab at the blood on Julia's forehead. Her little face was concentrated, as though this were the most important job in the world. Her hands were gentle.

'There,' she said solemnly at last. 'That will do until the doctor sees it.'

'Thank you,' Julia said as Vincenzo laid her back on the jacket. She smiled at Rosa. 'That's very kind of you.'

'I'm going to be a nurse when I grow up,' the child told her. 'Or I may be an art restorer. If I can read all the books in time. But it's hard because Gemma keeps telling me to put the light out and go to sleep.'

'I used to get into trouble for that too. My mother couldn't understand that, to me, an art book was as good as a thriller.'

Rosa nodded again, this time vigorously. 'What did you do?' she asked.

Julia leaned nearer, like a conspirator, and whispered, 'I got smaller books and hid them under the bedclothes.'

She winked. Rosa gave a little gasp, which almost turned into a giggle. Almost.

'Now can I ask what you're doing here?' Vincenzo said. 'Why didn't you just tell me, instead of coming here alone and climbing about in that dangerous way?'

'I did it on impulse. I thought it would give me something to think about other than-well, things I didn't want to think about.'

Out of the corner of her eye she saw Rosa grow suddenly still. It was an alert stillness, as though someone had blown a trumpet, and she was waiting.

'I expect you have a lot of things that you don't want to think about,' Julia said carefully.

Rosa nodded.

'But you can't stop,' she said.

'I know. The more you don't want to think of them, the more you keep thinking of them, until it's like a great big stone crushing you. And you can't get out from under it.'

This time Rosa didn't nod, but a light came into her eyes, and she continued to watch Julia intently.

'I think I should get you back to your flat,' Vincenzo said. 'Then I'm sending for the doctor, and I want no argument. Nor are you coming in to work at the restaurant. You'll rest until Epiphany is over.'

'Then she can spend Epiphany with us,' Rosa breathed. 'Uncle Vincenzo, please say she can.'

Julia drew in her breath, waiting for Vincenzo to find some excuse.

'Will you feel well enough for that?' he asked.

'Yes, I know I will.'

'You'll come?' Rosa exclaimed. 'And stay with us all day?'

Julia glanced at Vincenzo. He was very pale, but he spoke steadily.

'Of course you will stay all day. So now you must rest properly, to make quite certain that nothing prevents you being our guest.'

'My guest,' Rosa said proudly.

CHAPTER NINE

It snowed the night before Epiphany, but by the morning it had stopped, the sun was out, and Venice lay under a shining white blanket.

Vincenzo came to collect Julia and exclaimed, 'Mio Dio, what are you carrying?'