A Family For Keeps

'Gifts for Rosa. After all, it's her day, isn't it? Piero told me that Italian children hang up their stockings now, not at Christmas.'

'You'd better let me take some. There was no need to load yourself down like a donkey.'

'Six missing birthdays. Six missing Christmases. I'm making up for all those times I wasn't able to watch her face as she opened things. She won't know,but I will.'

As they walked through the snow she said, 'By the way, how did I become Signora Baxter?'

'It was the first name I could think of. Do you mind?'

'No, it'll do. I'm so happy today I'd agree to anything.'

She gave a little skip in the snow and he had to grab her to stop her slithering. They laughed together and now he could hear the different note in her voice. She had come back to life. The next moment she broke free and began to pelt him with snowballs. He dropped the parcels and pelted her back.

As it was a feast day there were no traghetti crossing the Grand Canal, so they walked over the Accademia Bridge. Halfway across Julia stopped and looked down the length of water to where it broadened out into the lagoon, flashing and gleaming like a million swords in the sunlight.

'If people knew Venice was as beautiful as this in winter, nobody would come in the summer,' she said.

'You're turning into a Venetian,' he teased.

'I reckon I am.'

She gazed ecstatically up into the sky, which was a brilliant blue.

'I can't believe this is happening,' she breathed. 'After all these years I've seen her again, I'm going to spend the day with her and she likes me. Not as a mother-it's too soon for that, I know. But she likes me, she likes me.'

'Steady,' he said, taking her shoulders. 'Try to keep your feet on the ground.'

'No, why should I?' she said, laughing. 'I don't want my feet on the ground. The ground's so hard. Believe me, I know. I've slept on it.'

He gave her a gentle shake, 'Julia, you're crazy.'

'Yes, I'm crazy,' she cried joyfully. 'I'm crazy with happiness, crazy, crazy!'

Some passers-by looked at her, but instead of scuttling past in alarm they grinned, falling in with her mood. This was Venice, where crazy people were the norm.

Just the same, Vincenzo took the precaution of kissing her firmly before she could say any more.

"Will you shut up?' he begged between kisses.

'Maybe. Persuade me.'

He kissed her again and again, feeling her young and glorious in his arms, wishing it could always be like this. He took her face between his hands, looking deep into her eyes. But although he saw his own reflection there he knew that was only on the surface. Behind that surface was something else that excluded him.

'Julia,' he said, trying to call her back to him. 'Sophie.'

'Whatever. What does anything matter? I thought I'd never have even this much again, and I'm going to enjoy today. I'll worry about the rest later.'

Now he could see her as she'd been years ago, young and full of hope, before grief and despair had marked her. He grinned and told her something that would please her.

'You heard what Rosa said about your being her guest? Because she was the one who invited you. She's determined to do all the entertaining herself. She even wanted to cook the meal, but I drew the line at that. Gemma cooked it, but she'll be leaving as soon as we get there, to spend the day with her family.'

'You should have let her cook it,' Julia declared. 'It would have tasted glorious.'

'I've tasted Rosa's attempts at cooking,' he said darkly. 'Believe me, it would probably have poisoned you.'

'I wouldn't care. Isn't she a wonderful little person, Vincenzo? Did you notice what she did that day in the palazzo, when I had that fall?'

'You scared the life out of me.'

'But not out of her. She wasn't scared, although it must have sounded like a terrible crash down where you were, and I heard you tell her to come back, but she didn't take any notice-'

'The little monkey never takes any notice,' he said, unable to keep the fond pride out of his voice.

'She just dashed up bravely. It could have been anything making that racket, but all she cared about was finding out. She's one of those people who runs forward to life with her arms out. I'm so proud of her already, aren't you?'

'Yes, I am-'

'She's wonderful,' Julia carolled up to the sky.

He gave up trying to remonstrate, knowing that she was beyond reason. Nor did he really want to bring her down to earth. Something caught in his throat at the sight of her joy, and he wished it could last for ever.

'We should hurry,' he said. 'Gemma can't leave until we get there.'

'Then let's go,' she said, seizing his hand and pulling him off the bridge, determined to be delayed no longer. Soon they reached the Fondamenta Soranzo, where her eyes sought the windows of the house.

'Look, there's Rosa, watching for us,' she cried, and waved eagerly.

The little girl waved back, beaming. Vincenzo opened the front door into a large hallway, with a flight of steps leading up.

'We live up there,' he said.

'Uncle Vincenzo!' called a child's voice from upstairs, and the next minute Rosa came flying down to envelop him in a fierce embrace.

Then she turned her attention to Julia, too. But immediately she stood back and became the perfect hostess, polite and formal.

'Buongiorno, Signora Baxter. I am very pleased to welcome you to this house and I hope you will have a very happy day with us.'

'Thank you, I know that I will,' Julia said, charmed. 'But please call me Julia.'

'Signora Julia.'

'No, just Julia.'

Rosa,cast a quick glance at Vincenzo, who shrugged and indicated Julia, saying, 'It's for our guest to decide.'

'My guest,' Rosa insisted. 'Because I invited you.'

'Yes, you did, and it was very kind of you,' Julia said, smiling.

The sun had come out. Her daughter was a charming child with generous, confiding ways, and she had reached out to her.

'Come with me.' Rosa seized her hand and drew her up the stairs, Vincenzo following.

The apartment was spacious and attractive. The main room contained furniture that looked antique and had probably come from the palazzo.

Rosa took her coat and ushered her to the sofa, then bustled busily away. Julia heard her speaking to someone in the next room, then Gemma emerged, wearing an outdoor coat, and bid everyone goodbye.

In the centre of the room was a low table on which stood several plates, bearing cakes and biscuits, some elegant glasses, and a bottle of Prosecco. Rosa reappeared and began to pour some of the sparkling white wine for Julia and Vincenzo and orange juice for herself.

'Please have a cake,' she said to Julia. 'Lunch will be in an hour.'

'Perhaps I'd better look after the final stages,' Vincenzo said. 'Why don't you show Julia your presents?'

Rosa promptly became a child again, bouncing to her feet and drawing Julia into the next room where there was a decorated tree, and signs of gifts opened with eager fingers. Rosa showed them off proudly.

'I should really have waited for you to come before I opened my presents.'

'Never mind,' Julia told her. 'When I was your age I always got down to business very early, usually about six o'clock on Christmas morning. In England children hang up their stockings at Christmas, not Epiphany.'

Rosa was wide-eyed. 'You don't have Befana?'

'I'm afraid I don't know what that is.'

'Befana is a kindly witch. They say the three kings invited her to visit the baby Jesus with them, but she was busy and didn't go. Later she changed her mind, but by then she'd missed the star and lost her way. So now she flies around on her broomstick and leaves presents in every house where there are children, because she doesn't know which house is the right one.'

'That sounds lovely. I'm glad you told me about her. Now I know who it must have been.'

'Must have been?' Rosa queried.

'This old woman who whirled around my head on her broomstick, and dropped something into my bag. She said she hadn't delivered everything to this house, and didn't have time to come back, so would I bring a few things for her?'