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As they approached a low bridge Kate turned to look at the gondolier. Standing on the stern, he was going to have to be careful not to bang his head. They were gliding ever closer, and he seemed to be paying no heed, but at the last second he gave her a wink and ducked his head. Smiling, Kate turned back to the front—and immediately found herself caught in the glare of Nikos’s penetrating gaze, with the shadow of the bridge crossing his face as they glided underneath.
His expression was hard to read—neither cold nor friendly, but more like deliberately watchful, as if he wanted her to know that he noticed everything...even a cheeky wink from a Venetian gondolier.
Since that night on the steps of the Sacré-Coeur, there had been no more in-depth conversations, no more mention of her family, for which Kate was very grateful. Nikos’s brutal assessment of her mother had wound her tighter than a sprung coil, just as he had intended it to, but deep down she could see that his views were justified. Fiona had treated him appallingly.
So had she, come to that.
Maybe if she had been able to explain her mother’s situation to Nikos things would have been different. But Fiona had made her swear that under no circumstances was Kate ever to tell anyone about her condition. Trying to reason with her, impress upon her the fact that mental illness was nothing to be ashamed of, had had the reverse effect, with her mother becoming increasingly hysterical because Kate wanted to tell everyone that she was ‘crazy’. That she wouldn’t be happy until her mother had been locked away.
So Kate had obeyed her and kept quiet. It was her mother’s illness after all, not hers. She’d had to respect her wishes.
Kate’s relationship with Fiona had always been a difficult one. As a child she had accepted that her mother was ‘delicate’—that she would sometimes spend days in bed, suffering with headaches, baffling mood swings. Her father had impressed upon Kate that her mom had to be treated with the utmost care, obeyed at all times and kept calm. It hadn’t been until she was a teenager that Kate had realised there was a medical reason for all that. Fiona suffered from anxiety and depression.
As the face of Kandy Kate, Kate had spent her young life on a constant round of photo shoots and advertising campaigns, all orchestrated by her mother. This role, it seemed, was the one thing that had given Fiona a focus, helped keep her demons at bay. So Kate had done as she was told.
When other kids had been out on their bikes, she’d been having her nails manicured. When they’d been having fun at sleepovers, she’d been tucked up in bed. Because her mother had insisted on her looking perfect at all times. It had almost felt as if Fiona’s life depended on it.
The pattern of subservience to her mother had continued all through Kate’s teenage years and into her early twenties. With her father’s unconditional love she had had at least one parent she could turn to for a cuddle, for comfort and advice. But Bernie had also had Fiona’s moods to consider, and because Kate had wanted to try and make life easier for him she had striven to be the perfect daughter. Never once had she rocked the boat.
She’d been twenty-three when her father had suggested she come into the business with him. Having studied photography at university, she’d fancied a career travelling the world, doing photo shoots in faraway exotic locations. But duty had called. Her father had needed her.
So they had struck a deal. Kate would go travelling for three months, and then join the firm when she returned.
Fiona, however, had not been happy with this arrangement. She’d seen no reason for Kate to go ‘gallivanting off’ to Europe. She’d thought there was nothing to be gained by letting her go, and that Bernie was simply ‘indulging’ his daughter.
Maybe she’d feared that Kate would never come back—who knew? But for once Bernie had put his foot down, insisting that Kate was to be allowed this one taste of freedom. He and Fiona had fought—a terrible row that had seen Fiona sobbing and screaming all night, punctuated only by Bernie’s angry voice. A booming tone that Kate had never heard before.
Desperate to make peace, Kate had offered to abort her travel plans immediately. But her father had had none of it. He had insisted she was still going. That her mother would get over it. That everything would be all right.
