CATHERINE GEORGE - A Venetian Affair - A Venetian Passion / In the Venetian's Bed / A Family For Keeps

‘Mother, put these boots on and leave your shoes in the car with your hat,’ ordered Laura. ‘You take the umbrella; I’ve got my hood up.’

Isabel followed her into the kitchen soon afterwards and thrust the dripping umbrella into the sink. ‘Why did Domenico leave?’

‘To speed the bride and groom on their way.’

‘He could have stayed with you a lot longer. The happy couple are dancing the night away in the marquee with everyone else. Fenny won’t leave until the band does.’

‘Of course she won’t. They’re going back to Joe’s house tonight. The real travelling starts tomorrow.’ Laura smiled bleakly. ‘Domenico was just making an excuse to get away, Mother.’

‘From you?’

‘Right.’

‘You had a quarrel?’

‘Not exactly. I just cleared the air a bit.’

Isabel dispensed with the boots and sat down at the table, motioning Laura to do the same. ‘I like Domenico.’

‘He likes you, too.’

‘He was appalled when I told him what had happened to you.’

Laura glowered. ‘Even more so when he actually laid eyes on my face!’

‘Ah. I see,’ said Isabel, enlightened.

‘I was dozing in the garden, and he woke me up. But the Prince lost the plot. He stared at Sleeping Beauty in horror instead of kissing her awake.’ Laura shrugged. ‘Only for a split second, but long enough.’

Her mother sighed. ‘So you sent him packing?’

‘Not right away. He’d brought champagne to toast Fen and Joe, and I was tired of my own company by that time, so we sat in the garden until the rain started.’

‘What went wrong?’

‘I told him a relationship between us wasn’t possible due to the difference in our circumstances—’

‘What?’

Laura quailed at the look her mother gave her. ‘Well, it isn’t, is it?’ she said defensively. ‘You should see his apartment, not to mention the Forli Palace—’

‘Stop right there. I’ve never heard such rubbish!’ Isabel jumped up to fill the kettle. ‘It’s an insult to your father and me to say you’re not good enough for Domenico Chiesa—or any other man, for that matter.’

Laura stared at her mother in dismay. ‘I didn’t mean it like that!’

‘Then how did you mean it? This is the twenty-first century, Laura Green—do you want some tea?’

‘No, thanks.’

Isabel sat down at the table again, a relentless look in her eye. ‘Once you hit your teens you got this bee in your bonnet about charity. But I had no idea you felt inferior to people who possessed more in life than we do. Was that your reaction when Frances Dysart gave you generous presents for your birthday, or included you in outings with Fenny?’

‘No!’ said Laura, horrified. ‘I don’t mean that at all. The Dysarts always seemed like family to me.’ She took a deep breath. ‘My school uniform was the start of it.’

‘Ah!’ Isabel slumped slightly in her chair. ‘The second-hand clothes from the school shop. They were a godsend to my bank balance. You never said you resented them, Laura.’

‘Because I knew it was a struggle for you to send me to the same school as Fen. But I loathed having clothes that someone else had worn first.’

‘Abby didn’t feel like that,’ said Isabel dryly. ‘She loved wearing your cast-offs, until she grew too tall.’

‘Ah, but my baby sister was not only clever enough to get a scholarship which paid her fees, she’s also blessed with a better nature than me.’

‘Different, not better.’

Laura frowned. ‘If school fees were a problem, how did you manage to send me on school trips to France and so on?’

‘Grandma paid. And if she were still with us she’d give you short shrift if you accused her of charity.’

‘I wouldn’t dare! But I wish I had known. I could have shown her I was grateful.’

Isabel shook her head in despair. ‘She did it to give you pleasure, not to get gratitude.’

‘Sorry!’

Isabel eyed her quizzically. ‘So let me just get this straight. You fell in love with a man you thought had an ordinary job, even though he lives in an expensive apartment, wears wonderful clothes—if his suit today was anything to go by—and takes you out to pricey meals?’

‘I insisted on paying for one of them!’

‘Of course you did,’ said her mother, resigned. ‘Anyway, now that Domenico’s revealed in his true colours, i.e. not just good-looking and charming but seriously well off, you’re no longer in love with him. Am I right so far?’

‘You make me sound like a complete fool, Mother. Which I am, of course, because I’m still hopelessly in love with him,’ said Laura miserably.

‘But because he was horrified at the sight of your face you told him to get lost.’

‘I had to get in first, in case he meant to dump me . You must have noticed that Domenico’s pretty hot on appearances! But a relationship isn’t possible between us anyway, because he’d lied to me.’

‘About his identity?’

‘Worse than that. In Venice he told me there was no woman in his life, and that he was in love with me. Otherwise I wouldn’t have—have got so involved,’ said Laura, flushing.

‘And is there some woman in his life?’

‘He says not, but Jess told Fen there is. So someone’s wrong somewhere.’

‘You didn’t tell me about this.’

‘I wanted to talk to Domenico first.’

‘And he denied it. Then what?’

‘He was pretty angry by that stage—’

‘You surprise me,’ said Isabel dryly.

‘He did the arrogant Venetian thing, and looked down his nose as he informed me that he had not come for boring discussion of our relationship, but out of courtesy because of my fall.’

‘Ouch! So what did you say to that?’

‘Not a lot. I just gave him the money he’d paid Signora Rossi.’

Isabel groaned.

‘At which point he said grazie and left. So that’s that,’ said Laura, and jumped to her feet. ‘Maybe I will have some tea after all, while you tell me all about the wedding. I bet Fen looked amazing,’ she added wistfully.

‘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.’