Page 43 of Once Upon a Time in Venice

‘You seemed upset earlier,’ he began, and felt Gina stiffen beside him. ‘I don’t want to pry, but I wanted to be sure – it wasn’t anything to do with Edoardo, was it? He didn’t do or say anything to upset you, did he?’

‘Edoardo? No,’ Gina insisted, but then her hand flew to her mouth. ‘I just left him there,’ she realized.

‘Where?’ Marco was confused, not following her train of thought.

‘Harry’s Bar.’

‘He took you to Harry’s Bar?’ Marco sounded incredulous. He wondered briefly if his brother-in-law was trying to impress Gina by taking her there, and he wasn’t sure how that made him feel. Then, unexpectedly, Marco began to laugh. The idea of Edoardo taking Gina to Harry’s Bar was ridiculous – trying to impress the best-connected woman in Venice by taking her to a tourist cliché.

Gina stared at him for a moment, then she began to laugh too, clearly thinking the same. Marco thought anyone who saw them would think they were crazy, shaking with laughter in the middle of the street.

It was a shared moment between them, an easing of tension and a spark of connection. Marco felt a sense of triumph, as though he’d finally had a glimpse behind the mask, breaking through Gina’s controlled exterior.

‘I need to apologize to him,’ Gina said. ‘I left in rather a hurry.’

‘Don’t worry about Edoardo,’ Marco reassured her. ‘His ego might be dented but he’ll bounce back.’

They’d been walking aimlessly, without paying attention. Marco looked up, and saw they’d emerged from a side alley onto Salizzada Malipiero, near the San Samuele church.

‘I’ve just realized where we are.’

Gina glanced up too. The street was busy with people, but even without the sign on the wall, or the distinctive square bell tower, she would have known where she was. In the early days, when she’d first arrived in Venice, she’d spent her rare time off exploring the city. Then, as head concierge for the White Palace, she’d got to know the city intimately, discovering its hidden nooks and crannies.

‘Chiesa di San Samuele,’ she murmured.

Marco nodded. ‘The bones of Saint Valentine are rumoured to be kept in the church – there’s an urn by the altar that’s said to house his remains. It’s fitting, don’t you think? The patron saint of love resting in the city of lovers.’

‘It’s … romantic,’ Gina agreed, a small smile playing around her lips. ‘And I’m sure you know that Casanova was baptised in this very same church, and took his priesthood vows here at the age of fourteen – just along the street from where he was living in the Palazzo Malipiero.’

‘You do know everything about Venice,’ Marco laughed, as they continued along the street in the direction of the Grand Canal, crossing the square towards the beautiful old mansion that had been home to Giacomo Casanova in the eighteenth century.

‘Although there’s possibly one thing you don’t know about,’ Marco continued. As they drew closer to the three-storey grand palazzo, with its fading paintwork and crumbling façade, Marco slipped down a narrow alleyway beside the house’s famous garden. There was a locked gate made of decorative wrought-iron, half-hidden beneath overgrown wisteria, and Marco stopped beside it, bending down to rummage around beneath some loose brickwork.

‘What are you doing?’ Gina said nervously, looking around, wondering if he’d taken leave of his senses and they were about to be arrested.

‘I hoped it would still be here,’ he said triumphantly. He stood up, brandishing a key, and Gina gasped, watching in wonder as Marco slid it in the lock which turned easily. The gate creaked as Marco pushed it open, inviting her into the darkness beyond.

‘What are you …? How …?’ Gina marvelled, but Marco simply smiled.

He could tell she was a little uncertain, but she swallowed her fears, stepping into the secret garden and looking around in wonder as Marco closed the gate behind them.

‘Have I impressed the queen of Venice?’

Gina laughed. ‘Yes, you have. But how did you …?’

‘I was the stuntman on a job here, last summer. I had to jump from up there,’ Marco indicated the top floor of the palazzo, ‘onto a gondola on the Grand Canal. The contessa allowed the crew to set up in the gardens, and the key was something of an open secret.’

‘You’re full of surprises,’ Gina marvelled. Even at night, the gardens were beautiful, lit by lights spilling out from the windows of the palazzo, and the boats passing by on the canal. There were mature trees with the earliest signs of blossom, statues of lovers intertwined around a small fountain, and a stone balustrade dividing the garden from the water beyond. Magnolia plants were ready to explode into flower, and a beautiful rose garden dominated the west of the gardens by the canal.

Gina sat down on a bench, taking it all in, and Marco took a seat beside her. Above them, a handful of stars were sprinkled across the night sky, the moon emerging from the clouds.

‘I’m glad I bumped into you. There’s something I wanted to ask you …’

Gina raised her eyebrows questioningly.

‘This dinner with Lucia de Santis—’

‘I’m sorry,’ Gina groaned. ‘But thank you for saying yes.’