Deep and Silent Waters

‘What sort of things?’

Olivia giggled. ‘There’s a boys’ school, St Xavier’s, along the lake – Trudie and Angie met some of the older ones in town and we’re forbidden to talk to boys! It’s one of the seven deadly sins here, so they have to be careful or they’ll be expelled. They’re writing to them – they leave letters in a dead tree and they’re planning to climb out one night and have a midnight swim and a picnic.’

‘How romantic!’ Vittoria’s eyes glowed at the idea of swimming in that beautiful lake at night, under the moon.

Olivia sighed. ‘Isn’t it? Why don’t we go, too? Trudie said their boys had two other friends who were really good-looking.’

If they were caught and expelled Carlo would be furious. Heaven knew what he would do to her! Vittoria bit her lip, tempted but scared of the consequences. ‘I can’t. I’d love to but Carlo, my brother, would never forgive me if we got caught and I was sent home.’

‘Oh, Toria, go on! They treat us like little kids here, but we’re old enough to get married. Anyone would think the war was still on. Come on! At least write a note to Hal.’

‘Hal? What sort of name is that?’

‘He’s English.’

Vittoria’s face set like concrete. ‘No, I’m not writing to him. I don’t want to go. I hate the English.’

‘The war’s over and we’re all friends again. The English are coming to Venice in droves. We can’t afford to go on quarrelling with them and, anyway, the Germans treated us far worse than the English ever did.’

Vittoria didn’t want to argue, so she changed the subject. ‘What’s the food like here?’

‘You’re being very stupid,’ muttered Olivia, then said, ‘Well, how good the food is depends on who cooked it. The staff do the breakfasts and dinners, and they’re pretty good, but we have to make lunch ourselves – which is fine, so long as you get something from one of the good cooks. Jo-Anne, for instance, can make great pasta, but some of the girls can’t cook to save their lives. Just wait till you try Trudie’s food – it’s disgusting.’ She paused. ‘Look, Toria, about the boys, you won’t tell, will you?’

‘Of course not! I’ll forget you ever mentioned it. How’s Gina? Is she still in Venice?’

‘Oh, yes, at our old school. I haven’t seen her for months. Her mother still runs the grocer’s shop. I expect Gina will work there when she leaves school.’

‘I can’t see her behind a counter, somehow. Her mother was always so ambitious for her. Do you know what you want to do after leaving school, Olivia?’

‘I’m going to art college – I want to paint.’

‘Will your family let you?’ Vittoria asked doubtfully, remembering that magnificent palazzo on the Grand Canal, the maid in her ribboned white cap, the gossip at their school about the d’Angeli family, their long history and wealth.

‘Let them try and stop me! Domenico went to art college so why shouldn’t I? The old ideas are dead, we’re living in a new world.’

Remembering Olivia’s brother Vittoria felt oddly breathless. He had been the most beautiful man she had ever seen, with that golden skin and black hair, like an angel she had seen many times in the Treasury Room at St Mark’s – a Byzantine icon of the Archangel Michael, shimmering with gold, great wings spread and one hand raised in a blessing, his face gentle and serious.

‘What’s he doing now?’

‘He’s at home. Painting. He leaves college this year and then he says he’ll teach.’

‘Art?’

‘What else, you idiot?’

‘And your family don’t object? I mean, he’ll inherit the palazzo, won’t he?’

‘He already owns it. Our father’s dead and there’s nobody to stop Domenico doing whatever he wants, especially now he’s twenty-one. Anyway, there isn’t much money left, you see – my school fees are being paid by my godmother, who’s very rich, but our family estates were lost during the war, and all we have left is the palazzo. Domenico will need to earn a living somehow.’

‘Does he have a girlfriend?’

‘What do you think? He’s had girlfriends since he was about fourteen! But he doesn’t take girls seriously, Nico just wants to have fun!’

The bells began again and Olivia got up from her bed, groaning. ‘Prep! You can stay here until dinner time, you won’t have any prep to do yet. See you later. I’ll come back to show you the way to the dining room.’

The patter of feet had begun on the stairs again; doors slammed and laughter and chatter sounded on all the floors.

Standing by the window staring at the luminous lake under the setting sun Vittoria thought of Domenico and sighed. He would never look at her, she knew that – she was too plain. She shouldn’t even think about him! Her own common sense told her that she would be wasting her time. That didn’t stop her dreaming about him that night and many nights afterwards. If she really worked at her art she could at least be able to talk to him in a way that aroused his interest.