A Venetian Affair: A Venetian Passion / In the Venetian's Bed / A Family For Keeps

‘She certainly did. Only someone with Fenny’s lack of hips could carry off such a narrow column of satin. The girls looked a picture, and Frances had the most ravishing hat—’

Laura listened with determined attention while her mother described the clothes at the wedding, but got up when Isabel began to yawn. ‘Bed,’ she said firmly. ‘You can tell me the rest tomorrow, before I go back to London.’

‘Tomorrow! Look, darling, I can easily postpone my holiday for a while—’

‘Absolutely not. You go off to the Lakes with Janet, and by the time I see you again I’ll look less like an extra from a horror film.’

Laura kept to her plan, but with a lot less enthusiasm for the idea than she’d let on to her mother. And during her call home to report in when she got to the flat she was given the finishing touch to her day.

‘Domenico called here after I drove back from the station,’ said Isabel. ‘He was not at all pleased to hear you’re going back to work tomorrow.’

‘It’s not up to him to be pleased or not! What did he want?’

‘To see you, I imagine. We chatted for a while, then he went off to a dinner Jess and Lorenzo were giving for the family at the Chesterton, and I got on with my packing.’

‘Are you all set for the morning?’

‘Yes. I’m picking Janet up at nine.’

‘Then have a good time, both of you.’ Laura stifled a yawn. ‘Sorry. I need an early night. I’ll give you my number as soon as I get a new phone. Until then ring me here at the flat. And drive carefully.’

‘I always do. Take care of yourself, darling. If it’s too much for you in work tomorrow, take more time off.’

‘Yes, Mother.’

Laura had been fully prepared for loud exclamations about her appearance next day, not least because she was wearing tennis shoes with her black suit. The surprise was a lack of energy that affected her concentration. And the glasses she wore for computer work hurt her bruised face so much that by the end of the afternoon she was heartily glad to go home. She checked her mailbox in the lobby as usual, and found a parcel signed for by the concierge. Surprised, she took the lift to the first floor and tore the wrappings from a box that contained a mobile phone and a note.

This is not charity, Laura. It is a practical gift to wish you a swift recovery. Domenico.

Laura took out the pretty little object, smiling when she saw it came complete with all the latest bells and whistles. The gift was so obviously an olive branch she would be a fool to refuse it.

She rang Domenico before she could change her mind. ‘This is Laura.’

‘Come esta? You have just returned from your bank?’

‘Yes.’

‘Should you be working again so soon?’

‘Probably not. It was a very tiring day.’ Laura braced herself. ‘But it was a very pleasant surprise to find your gift when I got home. Thank you very much.’

There was a lengthy pause. ‘You are going to accept it?’ he said at last.

‘Yes, Domenico, I am.’ She paused, then told him the truth. ‘I thought it might alienate you completely if I sent it back. And I’d like to think we could at least be friends.’

‘I would like that very much,’ he said promptly. ‘So. When I am in London you will dine with me?’

‘Yes. I’ll even let you pay for my dinner!’

‘Then we make progress.’ He paused. ‘How is your face, Laura?’

She took a look in the mirror over the sink unit. ‘It’s starting to heal. I should be back to normal soon.’

‘Bene. Are you very tired?’

‘Not really.’ Which was true now she was talking to Domenico again. ‘It was kind of you to send the phone.’

‘I expected it back by the next post.’

‘Postage to Venice is far too expensive!’

He laughed. ‘Always the practical one.’

‘That’s me. Thank you again. Goodbye, Domenico.’

‘Ciao, Laura.’

Feeling a whole lot better, Laura stood in the shower for a while, careful to keep her hair dry rather than risk going to bed with it wet. She massaged more analgesic cream into her ankle, pulled on jeans and T-shirt, released her hair from its pins and tied it back with a length of blue ribbon. The doorbell rang while she was seeking inspiration about supper, and with a sigh she shut the fridge and lifted the receiver, hoping it wasn’t Claire or Ellie, or anyone else intent on cheering her up.

‘Yes?’

‘Let me in, Laura, per favore.’

She stared at the receiver in shock. ‘You’re not in Venice?’ she said idiotically, and Domenico laughed.

‘No, Laura. I am right here, outside your building.’

She pressed the release button in a daze, and opened her door to watch him taking the stairs, two at a time. He was wearing his wonderful leather jacket with jeans that had probably come from the same source as his suits. His glossy dark hair was a little ruffled for once, but his chin was newly shaved and Laura could have eaten him on toast. He smiled at her, looking so outrageously pleased with himself she laughed up at him with equal pleasure.

‘You said you would dine with me when I am in London,’ he said, and kissed her uninjured cheek. ‘So. Here I am.’

She closed the door behind them, eyeing him quizzically. ‘You didn’t say tonight! I was hoping to look rather more human before we met again.’

He scowled. ‘Do you really believe such things matter to me? I could not leave for Venice knowing you still believe this lie about another woman in my life!’

Laura looked up into the jewel-bright blue eyes and saw truth in them, along with something else that made her heart beat faster. ‘If you say it’s a lie I believe you.’

He moved closer. ‘There is no one. E verita, Laura. I had so much looked forward to seeing you at the wedding, and felt great shock to find you missing. And when I did see you—’

‘You were revolted. I saw the look in your eyes.’

‘This is not true! I felt only anguish that you had suffered such pain. And this also,’ he added fiercely, ‘is not a lie.’

‘Then I apologise.’

‘Grazie.’ He smiled ruefully. ‘But I was not truthful about the subject of our relationship.’

‘You said it was boring,’ she reminded him.