‘Don’t leave me, Papà,’ she begged. She adored her father, and felt as though he was the only one who understood her. She had so little in common with her siblings and her mother, and couldn’t imagine being left with just them.
Her father reached out weakly and stroked her face.
‘Cara mia. You know I will always love you, la mia piccola bambina. But the time is coming for you to grow up and stand on your own two feet. You are stronger than you know.’
‘I’m not, Papà,’ Maria protested, unable to stop the tears from falling. ‘I can’t go on without you.’
She found herself remembering that fateful morning six months ago; it was never far from her thoughts. She’d confessed everything to her father …
But since then, Alberto had taken a turn for the worse. Adrenaline and anger had propelled him out of bed and into the woods that day, and he had seen for himself the consequences of her actions.
‘Tell no one, Maria, you hear me, tell no one!’
‘But Papà, what about his mother, or the police …?’
Her father had grabbed her by her shoulders and gripped her tightly; she had never seen him so scared, or so angry. ‘If anyone ever finds out about this you could go to jail, and it would kill me. Promise me!’
They had both cried then, but worse than that, he had caught a chill that had never lifted. It had left him weak, unable to stop coughing, and his health had never recovered. Maria was wracked by guilt.
‘You are my bravest and my cleverest child, my darling. But you must leave – there is nothing for you here.’
‘What are you saying, Papà?’ Through her tears and grief, Maria couldn’t comprehend her father’s words.
‘You cannot stay in Cannegia,’ Alberto implored. ‘I will no longer be here to protect you. You must spread your wings, make a life for yourself elsewhere.’
Maria understood. Every day she was surrounded by reminders of what had happened. She didn’t want to marry some local boy and stay in the village for ever; she wanted to see the world and make something of herself. Maria didn’t know what exactly, yet, but there must be opportunities in the city for a girl who was hard-working and ambitious.
She nodded. ‘Yes, Papà, I understand. I will make you proud.’
‘My darling girl, you always make me proud.’
Maria was openly weeping now, as her father was suddenly assailed by another coughing fit.
‘That’s enough, Maria.’ Her mother spoke sharply from the corner. ‘You’ve had your turn, now you’re exhausting him. It’s time to leave.’
Silvia approached the bed, but Alberto rallied. He caught his breath enough to say, ‘Not yet. There is something else I must tell her.’
Silvia looked displeased, her mouth puckering into a tight line, but she retreated to her guard post by the door.
‘Maria …’ Her father’s breath was rasping, and she had to lean in close to hear him. ‘Reach beneath the mattress … By my head.’
‘Papà, what …?’ Maria was confused, but she could see that Alberto didn’t have the energy to repeat the instructions, and Maria did as she had been told. To her shock, her hands closed around a delicate material pouch, with something small and heavy inside. Was it money? She wondered. Old coins?
Across the room, her mother was watching them intently, desperate to see what was happening.
‘Open it,’ Alberto said. It was a black velvet pouch with a gold drawstring. Even just the material felt luxurious to Maria, she was so unused to seeing anything like it in their clean but bare house. Maria opened it with fumbling fingers and gently pulled out a beautiful bracelet. It was made of large beads in myriad shades of blue, linked together on a silver chain. Maria had never seen the sea, but she imagined that this was what it would look like.
‘It’s beautiful,’ she gasped.
‘It belonged to my mother,’ Alberto explained, his words laboured. ‘I want you to have it.’
Tears were streaming down Maria’s face; they caused the bracelet to warp in front of her eyes. Beams of light danced and reflected with the brilliance of a thousand stars.
‘It’s Murano glass,’ Alberto told her. ‘Made on an island outside Venice. Remember, there is so much in this world and you need to discover it. Promise me you won’t squander your time on this earth. Live and love with all of your heart.’
‘I promise, Papà,’ Maria sobbed, as her father sank back on his pillow, exhausted.
Silvia rushed over, her eyes glittering dangerously. She’d witnessed the whole exchange and was clearly furious. She grabbed Maria to pull her away from Alberto’s bedside, her fingertips digging into the tender flesh of Maria’s forearm. She dragged Maria outside the bedroom and closed the door.
‘That should have been mine,’ Silvia hissed.
Maria’s fingers instinctively closed over the bracelet in her hand, holding onto it more tightly. She loved it already, and didn’t ever want to part with it.
‘But no, he gave it to you, his favourite,’ Silvia continued bitterly. ‘Even though you’re the one that killed him.’
Maria gasped as though her mother had slapped her, her mouth falling open in shock.
‘You think I don’t know?’ Silvia spat, and Maria felt an icy coldness wash over her, fear gripping her heart. ‘He’s never been right since that day … I’m watching you, my girl …’
A tumult of emotions raced through Maria – alarm, dread, guilt – and for a moment she thought she might faint. One thing was suddenly crystal clear: her father was right, and she couldn’t stay here. It was time to leave and she could never return …
Chapter 18
‘Cheers, Marco. Great work tonight. We’ll see you tomorrow.’
Marco held up his hand in acknowledgement as he stepped out of the door and into the street, taking the path alongside the canal.
He’d been filming since 4 a.m. that morning in an old church near the Campo San Moisè, standing in for Brad in a scene that involved him crashing down from the upper gallery and landing on the altar. He was feeling rather battered and bruised, having had to redo the scene over and over for multiple takes, and was looking forward to a hot shower.
