She gave a sigh, half nervous, half relieved. ‘Oh, you’re so quick! I don’t know how you guessed; you must be telepathic. But you’re right. Cy, I’ve been thinking...wondering... Oh, I’m sorry, Cy, I don’t know how to put it into words; I’m too confused about everything.’
‘Are you trying to tell me you’re having doubts about our engagement, Tonia?’ he asked quietly, and she gave another long, quivering sigh.
‘Yes. Cy, I’m sorry. I don’t want to ruin your life, and I’m afraid I would if we got married, because I don’t think I’m anywhere near ready for marriage. I should never have said yes; I think I wasn’t thinking straight when you asked me.’ She paused, swallowing unhappily.
Cy’s voice was careful, gentle. ‘We can put off the date for as long as you like, you know. There’s no hurry, no need for you to feel panicked.’
She bit her lip, knowing she had not told him the entire truth. What she had said was only a part of the truth. Oh, why was she such a coward?
She was afraid to admit to Patrick that she loved him, afraid to tell Cy that that was the real reason why she must not marry him. Ever since that night in Bordighera she had been too scared of life to take any risks.
When she was silent, Cy said on a sigh, ‘Of course, I’ve sensed some sort of change in you since I’ve been back in the States, I should never have left you over there while I came home. I thought it would make it easier for you to adjust to the idea of marriage if we spent some time apart, but obviously I was wrong. It was a mistake.’
‘No, you were right,’ she quickly said. ‘I needed time to think.’
‘You mean, you’ve spent too much time alone,’ Cy drily said. ‘Fretting, over what happened to you in Bordighera, and over the future. I know how hard it must be for you, but you’ve got to put the past behind you and get on with living.’
‘I know,’ Antonia said in a quiet little voice. ‘I’ve realised that.’
‘I only wish I could fly back to Venice today, to talk this out with you,’ Cy said impatiently. ‘The trouble is, I have a lot on my plate this week. I couldn’t spare the time. Look, I’ll try to get to Venice as soon as possible, so that we can talk. In the meantime, stop worrying, Antonia. Just live each day as it comes, don’t spend too much time alone, try to get out more, and forget about getting married for the moment. I don’t want you under any pressure. Take your ring off, if that helps, but lock it in the safe in the palazzo, Tonia; don’t lose it, will you?’ He laughed as he said that, yet she knew he was really serious, because, after all, the ring was worth many thousands of pounds.
‘Of course not,’ she quickly said.
‘Good girl.’ He always talked to her as if she were a child and he were the adult in charge of her; why hadn’t she noticed that? His indulgent manner, his gentleness, was the way one treated a beloved child. Was that how he thought of her? Well, there was a huge gap in their ages, she thought, really grasping for the first time how much older than her he was. He wasn’t much younger than her father, in fact.
Why else had she always felt so safe with him? But why did Cy want to marry someone he saw as a child?
Indulgently, he said, ‘We’ll talk this out, darling; just relax and trust me. Now get some sleep; you’ll feel much better in the morning, I expect.’
After he had rung off Antonia lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, listening to the soft lapping of the water outside, along the wooden piles supporting the palazzo‘s landing-stage, the sound of the gondolas skimming along the Grand Canal. Her heart was heavy. Cy had not taken her seriously.
No, she thought. I wasn’t honest enough with him. I didn’t tell him what was really on my mind. Now he thinks I’m just having an attack of pre-marital nerves because of what happened two years ago. But it isn’t just that. He doesn’t know I’ve met Patrick again.
She turned over heavily, feeling feverish, restless, confused. She should have told Cy the truth, told him she was in love with Patrick and could never marry him now.
At least she could be sure she wasn’t going to break Cy’s heart. She was quite certain Cy wasn’t in love with her. He had never given her any evidence of passion. His kisses had been soft, kind, gentle. Nothing like the kisses Patrick gave her.
She buried her face in her pillow, her skin burning. She wouldn’t think about that now. She must get some sleep, and if she started remembering Patrick making love to her she would be awake all night.
Next day she returned for the last time to the little pink house in the sunny, dusty, drowsing square on the Dorsoduro. Alex and Susan-Jane had packed up all their possessions and seen them dispatched in a van to Monte Carlo, where they would be stored for a few days until their owners arrived to move back into their Monte Carlo home.
That evening, Alex and Susan-Jane were having a party for their friends on their final day in Venice, and Antonia was kept busy most of the afternoon helping them get the house ready, cleaning and polishing, moving furniture around to clear the rooms for a large influx of people, preparing food, chopping and washing salad, and making a variety of easy-to-eat dishes which could be pre-cooked and re-heated, like paella, quiches, pizzas and curried chicken.
When everything was ready they all slumped into chairs and sipped some white wine before they went up to have baths and dress.
‘It’s so crazy, having a party the night before we leave!’ Susan-Jane chuckled. ‘We’re going to feel like death tomorrow, and we have that long drive ahead of us.’
‘But we won’t have to clear up here, because I’ve got a local cleaning sevice coming in to deal with the house!’ Alex pointed out. ‘And we don’t have to drive all the way to Monte Carlo; we can stop if we feel tired and book in at a hotel on the way for a night. Relax, darling; there’s no problem we can’t solve.’
‘You just love having parties!’ his wife accused, making a laughing face at him.
‘Guilty!’ he complacently admitted. ‘So do you!’
‘We should have had this one a week ago, though!’
‘Oh, that just means an anticlimax, knowing you’ve got another week before you actually leave! No, the best time to have a party is the night before you leave. Then you get up and go!’
Susan-Jane finished her wine and looked at her watch. ‘Me first for the bath!’ She got up and shot towards the stairs and Alex got up too and lunged after her, but she was too quick for him and vanished upstairs, laughing. Alex came back and sat down, grinning at Antonia.