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‘I’m not sure we ever did.’ Mack shook his head, a smile spreading across his face. ‘I think we got sidetracked.’
‘I’ll add it to the list, Mack.’
20
Kate looked out across the garden. Robin sat at the other end of the table from her, finishing off the crossword she had started earlier that day, a pot of tea between them.
‘I really must go and sort out those flower beds, but it’s so miserable out there I just can’t face it at the moment.’
‘Kate, there’s no hurry. You don’t need to do anything, not right now, anyway.’
‘Well, I’m sick of sitting here waiting to feel better.’
Robin put down his pen and went to stand behind her, putting his hands on her shoulders. ‘My darling, I’m so sorry. I wish I could make you feel better, I really do.’
Kate let out a small laugh. ‘Well, no one can ever make me feel better. This pain is never going to go away! Billy’s never coming back!’ She put her head in her hands. Every time she thought she couldn’t cry any more, along came more tears. Sometimes she felt as if they’d never stop.
Robin sat beside her. ‘Please, Kate. I know it’s awful. I wish with every bone in my body this wasn’t happening. But there’s nothing we can do to change what’s happened. All we can do is try and come to terms with it. And remember that in all of this, what’s important is that our beautiful boy was here with us for all that time. Think of the happy times we had with him, not just the pain of him not being here any more.’
‘Oh, for God’s sake, Robin, how can you make it all sound so simple? It’s not like there’s a tap for my feelings. I can’t turn them from sad to happy just like that!’
‘Darling, I understand. I miss him terribly. But we still have to live our lives; we still have our family to think about. We can’t forget Flora, Johnny and the children… they all need us, too.’
‘There you go, putting Flora ahead of me. As usual.’ Kate looked up at Robin, her eyes red, tears soaking her face.
‘Oh, Kate, please don’t say that. It’s not about putting anyone before anyone else. All I’m saying is—’
‘All you’re saying is “move on”, “pull yourself together”.’ Kate spat the words out.
‘I’m really not, Kate. I promise, that’s not what I meant at all.’ Robin dropped his head onto his chest, closing his eyes. He gently let out a long, slow breath. Opening his eyes, he saw Monty looking hopefully from him to the French windows on to the garden. ‘You want to go out?’ Monty wagged his tail and skittered to the window. ‘Come on, then.’ He opened the doors, turning back to Kate. ‘Fancy a walk down to the end of the garden with me? It’s not raining any more, at least.’
‘No, you go. I’m fine here.’ She thought of Flora, their conversation the last time they spoke. ‘They’ll be in Venice by now.’
Robin looked at the clock on the wall. ‘When did they land?’
‘About an hour ago, I think.’
‘Lucky things, let’s hope it gives them a real break.’ Robin sighed. ‘Do you remember when we went, all those years ago?’
‘Mostly the drive.’ Kate rolled her eyes.
‘Oh, come on, you loved it once we got there. Do you remember the children racing through St Mark’s Square, chasing the pigeons through the puddles?’ He thought of Billy tearing ahead, shrieking with delight as the pigeons took flight, only to land again just a few feet away.
Kate couldn’t help but smile at the memory. She looked up at Robin. She’d loved this man for so long and yet she noticed a different feeling when they were together now. Something was starting to build in the pit of her stomach, like a small fire burning. She wasn’t quite ready to think about what it might mean, but she knew it was there. And it was only a matter of time before she’d have to decide whether to let it burn or put it out once and for all.
* * *
The blue-green waters of the Venice lagoon parted under the bow of the water taxi as it sped towards the city. Flora sat at the back, reclining on the seat with her coat wrapped around her, her scarf trailing behind her in the wind, sunglasses firmly in place.
Johnny stood up, taking in the sight of the floating city in front of them. The late afternoon sun cast a pale orange glow across the sky, the outline of towers and domes sitting above the horizon, the sturdy Ponte della Libertà on their right. The driver pointed out various landmarks to Johnny who tried, in broken Italian, to exclaim his joy at seeing it all for the first time.
As the city drew nearer, the taxi slowed and soon, they were gliding along the Grand Canal. Flora looked up at the tall, flat-fronted buildings sitting on either side, many storeys high. Boats passed them on either side, empty gondolas floating lazily at the edges tethered by posts that looked like candy canes.
Before long they had docked at a pontoon and as Johnny waved off their water-taxi driver, Flora took in the scene around her. The fading light brought a melancholy air to the city.
They made their way down a narrow passage towards a small white stone bridge. ‘This is it,’ said Johnny. Flora noted the slight note of triumph in his voice.
She followed him through an ornate iron gate into a courtyard filled with shrubs in heavy, weathered stone pots. Two large columns stood either side of the glass front door of the hotel, a balcony above. The building was relatively modest compared with those lining the Grand Canal yet still had that unmistakable air of faded glamour about it. Flora loved it on sight.
