The Venetian House, page 36
She had received many tiresome letters from Meriel over the years, but as they usually ended up being a source of jokes to share with Guy and Richard, they had often seemed hilarious rather than infuriating. Now there was no one to laugh with and this particular communication incensed her to such a degree that she felt like tearing it up and stamping on the pieces. She was determined to keep in close touch with her father-in-law, but wished she hadn’t mentioned the subject of schooling in her last telephone call to him. Bill’s views on education were confined to the conventions of his upbringing, though he was more tolerant – within narrow limits – than his manipulative, control freak of an eldest daughter. He had not been enthusiastic about Victoria’s suggestion – she hadn’t expected him to be – but neither had he seemed distressed; but then, she reflected, it was hard to tell with Bill Cunningham. She always had a shrewd notion what his opinions were likely to be because they’d never varied in all the years she’d known him, but she had very little idea about how he felt on an emotional level: he kept his heart firmly zipped in a secure inner pocket and preferred other people to do the same.
She supposed it was a case of like father like son – though she had never thought of it like that before. Every day seemed to bring her a new, unwelcome revelation about how little she had really known her husband. How can we have lived so closely together for eight years and turned out to be such strangers? she asked herself a dozen times a day. It haunted her. There had been a series of advertisements on television recently in which well-known broadcasters announced a forthcoming channel and then appeared to peel off their faces like rubber masks to reveal a different TV personality beneath. Victoria thought there was a nightmare quality to this particular gimmick and wondered how many more masks were going to be peeled off Richard. Would she ever discover the identity of the real person? Had Richard been unhappy all through their marriage?
It was a huge relief when Jake bounced back from his first day at school and showed no signs of being traumatised by the experience.
With Jake at school and no household responsibilities, she had more time on her hands – time to grieve, time to review the past and think about the future; time for loneliness to sink its sharp teeth into her and get a grip.
Despite her pleasure in her grandmother’s company, she wished the Hammonds were still at Petradi. It would have been fun to show them something of the hidden Corfu still existing beneath the tourist façade. She would like to meet Sam and Sophie in the Harbour Lights for a drink in the evening after Evanthi had retired for the night, or take Sophie on a shopping jaunt to Kérkyra and introduce her to the charms of the network of narrow streets and little squares with their old Venetian houses. After showing Patrick their own Vrahos treasure, she would like to have seen his reaction to the effect of golden light in the cathedral, reflected from the mass of sacred paintings, which seemed to cover every inch of wall and which always gave Victoria the feeling that she had actually stepped inside an icon. She kept noticing people and places, grand views or small details on buildings that she thought would make wonderful photographs and wished she could point them out to him. There had been a feeling of independence – almost a sense of adventure – about her friendship with the Hammond family. Most of her friends up to now had first been the friends of Guy and Richard and many of her activities had centred round them – but Patrick and his children knew nothing of her husband or her cousin and had, she felt, liked her for herself.
Thoughts of Patrick alone, however, were unnervingly disturbing and led down avenues where it seemed dangerous to venture. It is far too soon, she told herself, concerned at the way her mind kept returning to him; it is not six months since Richard’s death and I can’t get him out of my head … and anyway, she added to herself censoriously, he is married. She wondered if critical Guy would approve of him – and with this query came the acknowledgement to herself that Guy had for too long represented the yardstick by which she measured everything and everyone. But Richard has gone for good and Guy belongs to Francine now, she thought forlornly – and she had to face the fact that her long-time idol had toppled off the pedestal where she had placed him so long ago, and now she just couldn’t trust him.
I must learn to make up my own mind about things and people, she resolved.
She had not spoken to Guy since the Hammonds’ visit, though she knew from Evanthi that he’d gone off to the States for one of his periodic trips to see the editor of Capability and discuss ideas for future articles. Francine had gone with him, and was intending to see her family and friends in New York – and no doubt tell them the news about the baby, thought Victoria with an envious pang. She was full of conflicting emotions about Guy. It seemed wrong that he knew nothing yet about the discovery of Evanthi’s lost love, but though part of her ached to tell him, she still felt too raw and hurt to attempt reconciliation.
Anthony and Toula rang often. She longed to see them but dreaded the trip to England that she must shortly undertake; dreaded the many decisions she would be called on to make, the confrontations she would be forced to have with Richard’s family. It all seemed terribly threatening – then she remembered the proposed mission to visit Hugh Marston and felt a spark of excitement at the thought of it – and of seeing Patrick again. That would be something to look forward to.
She spent hours with Evanthi, piecing together more of her life: it was like listening to a gripping serial story on the radio, she thought, and couldn’t wait to hear the next episode.
‘So tell me what happened after Hugh had taken you out to lunch. Was Great-grandmother Palombini furious? When did you next meet?’ she asked as she and Evanthi lunched together on Dora’s delectable spicy meatballs in red sauce accompanied by tiny courgettes and fried potatoes.
‘He followed me out to Italy,’ said Evanthi. ‘Of course I had hoped he would come – I knew he would – but all the same you can imagine my delight when he turned up in Rome. He pretended he’d come to Italy to do some commissions and it didn’t take long before he really got some. And, yes, my mother was incandescent with fury. She set her face against Hugh from the start, not on grounds of personal dislike – at least not to begin with – but because she was so determined I should marry into a good Greek family. My mother, who had married a foreigner herself!’
‘Wasn’t she happy with your father then?’ asked Victoria, helping herself to salad.
‘Oh, it was no reflection on my parents’ marriage. She adored my father but I have noticed that people who feel free to break with tradition themselves can often be the most rigid in applying those rules to other people. She and Calliope Doukas had planned the match when Stavros and I were in the cradle – my mother was obsessed with the idea. She felt it would ensure the future of this house, and what my mother wanted she usually got.’
‘You say it wasn’t personal dislike to begin with,’ said Victoria, ‘did it become personal later?’
‘Oh, it did indeed, yes. Because Hugh thwarted her, because he refused to kowtow to her, because she said he stole my heart and she knew she was powerless to change that. But he didn’t steal my heart,’ said Evanthi, her great eyes flashing: ‘I gave it to him. My mother could be a fiercely loyal friend – but a terrible, unforgiving enemy. She didn’t brook opposition and she was not above taking revenge. In many ways she was a very primitive personality – what she made Nafsica do over the letters was absolutely in character. I can’t think why I didn’t suspect it at the time – but I didn’t.’
‘So go on. Did Hugh just turn up and ring the doorbell?’
‘He was too shrewd to do that – he would have been shown the door on my mother’s orders. No, he enlisted the help of his aunt Lady Georgia – my godmother. Hugh could charm the birds off most trees if he tried, and he persuaded Lady Georgia that she must act as fairy godmother to us both. She had a great many influential friends in diplomatic circles and got him invited to social gatherings that my family were asked to as well, so it was difficult for my mother to stop us meeting. And all the time we fell more deeply in love. We were both completely bowled over. Every day was as exciting as the evening we met for the first time and yet we felt we had known each other for ever. No matter what else has happened to me in life, it has all been worth it just to have had that.’
Victoria was conscious of a stab of pure envy. ‘Nonna, you weren’t lucky later, but oh, you were lucky then,’ she said wistfully, then added almost inaudibly, ‘I was never hit by anything like that kind of coup de foudre … that passion. Perhaps I wouldn’t even recognise it.’
Evanthi looked at her with compassion. ‘You are still very young, agapi. Don’t rule it out. It may yet happen – age has nothing to do with love, anyway. And I’ll tell you one thing for certain – if it happens you will know.’
Victoria shook her head. ‘I don’t feel young any more,’ she said soberly. ‘I feel Richard has taken my youth with him.’
‘Don’t be utterly ridiculous!’ Evanthi was at her most forceful. ‘I have no sympathy for such a silly statement. I shan’t tell you any more of my story if this is how it affects you.’
‘I’m sorry – please go on.’ Victoria, amused and comforted by her grandmother’s astringent attitude, did not want to stem the flow of reminiscences. ‘So what happened then?’ she prompted.
‘Hugh did some remarkable paintings and was becoming very sought after. You might have thought that would bring my mother round to him – it certainly made him a better prospect financially – but it had the reverse effect. I suppose it made her regard him as a serious threat instead of just a nuisance. Anyway, despite her efforts to prevent it we managed to see each other most days – and I showed him Rome … my city. He looked at all the wonderful treasures through my native Italian eyes and I looked at them as though for the first time through his observant artist’s eyes. It was a revelation and a privilege. He used to say that we must train our eyes to look at things.’
‘Oh, Nonna – that’s what you always used to say to us! Guy and I were only talking about it the other day – saying what an influence it had been on us both. Patrick Hammond said much the same thing to me when he was talking about his photography and how he chooses what to take.’
‘Ah well, no doubt he got that from Hugh too. Hugh was the sort of person who changed one’s whole outlook – one of those special people who lights you up with their enthusiasms instead of killing you with boredom. A rare gift, indeed,’ said Evanthi.
‘You have it too.’ Victoria looked at her watch and realised that she must go and collect Jake and Angelo shortly and that she would have to wait for the next instalment till another time. ‘What did your father think of Hugh?’ she asked, as she started to clear their plates away. ‘Did he disapprove too?’
‘Hugh and my father got on well – what little they saw of each other – but things were not easy politically, you understand, and Italian relations were strained with both England and Greece. My father never approved of the Fascisti but he thought Mussolini had done some good things for our agriculture and the running of the country. Then Italy invaded Albania and he could see that trouble was coming in Europe. Ugly things were happening.’ Evanthi stopped and shifted stiffly in her chair. ‘Now you must go, agapi. I will have a rest – but I am beginning to feel so much better it gives me hope that I have a little time left after all!’
Victoria gave her hug. ‘You hang on in there, Nonna,’ she said. ‘I couldn’t cope with losing you.’ And she went off to meet the boys and take them for a swim and an ice cream.
As she bumped down the drive, she hoped desperately that somehow they could find a way to hang on to the house without parting with the icon and that she would gather the strength and resolution to face the difficulties that lay ahead.
One evening, about two weeks after the Hammonds had returned to England, the telephone rang after dinner. Evanthi had already gone to bed but Victoria was still sitting on the terrace watching the fireflies flickering in the darkness and wishing she had someone to share the magic with. She went inside to answer it, glad to be jerked into action. She picked up the receiver. ‘Herete?’ she said, automatically answering in Greek.
‘Is that Victoria?’
‘Yes it is. Who’s that?’
‘Hello, Victoria – this is Patrick Hammond here. I hope I’m not disturbing you?’
‘Oh, hi there.’ She had recognised the voice immediately but for some reason hadn’t chosen to disclose the fact. ‘You’re not disturbing me at all – it’s lovely to hear from you. I presume you got back all right then – how are you all?’
‘We’re fine. Sam’s back at Newcastle and Sophie’s started school again – but she can come home most weekends, which is nice.’
‘I did like them both,’ said Victoria. ‘I shall be pleased if Jake grows up as nice as they are.’ Then she said, ‘We missed you all dreadfully after you’d gone.’
At the other end of the line Patrick’s heart did a somersault. ‘Well, I certainly missed you too – we all did – and Jake, of course. How’s he doing? Has he started at the local school?’
‘Oh, it’s a wonderful success.’ She was touched that he had remembered. ‘He started last week and went off happy as a lark with Dora’s little boy. It seems to be going really well.’
‘You must be very relieved. It’s always an anxiety when they start a new school and under your circumstances doubly so, I imagine.’
‘I must admit I was terribly bothered – especially as I’ve had a lot of criticism from my in-laws for even thinking of it.’
‘But now you feel triumphantly justified?’ he teased.
She laughed. ‘Well, I suppose I do rather – though it’s early days yet. I’ve still got my fingers and toes crossed. Now do tell me what I’m dying to know – have you been to see your uncle yet and told him about Nonna?’
‘I have indeed. It’s part of the reason I’m ringing up – my excuse, if you like, because I really wanted an excuse to talk to you and find out how things were going for you.’
Victoria felt a rush of pleasure. ‘Tell me about your uncle’s reaction to the voice from his past,’ she said, dodging a verbal response to the second of his reasons, but none the less happy. ‘I’ve been absolutely dying to know.’
‘He’s told Sophie that he’s replied to your grandmother. Did you know she had written a letter for me to deliver to him? Sophie nearly died of curiosity when we gave it to him because he stuck it in his pocket and didn’t open it while we were there. Has your grandmother had his answer yet?’
‘Not as far as I know – but posts can take ages out here. She hasn’t said anything to me about it, but I didn’t actually know she’d given you a letter – quite secretive of her, really. It shows how important it still is to her. After all the dramas over their original correspondence you’d think they might fight shy of letters as a means of renewing contact, wouldn’t you?’
They chatted on, and it seemed wonderfully natural and easy to Victoria, as though she was talking to a friend of many years’ standing.
‘I must let you go,’ Patrick said at last. ‘I ought not to have rung so late, but I wanted to be sure of speaking to you and not just leaving a message with your grandmother or Dora. When are you coming over to England? I know Uncle Hugh would really like to see you – and I have a suggestion to put to you.’
‘I do have to come back to deal with business affairs,’ she said, intrigued. ‘I haven’t got a date fixed yet – to be honest I’m dreading it so much I’ve been putting it off – but now that Jake’s settled so well I could easily leave him with Nonna and Dora and I’d love to meet your uncle too … so what’s your suggestion?’
‘Well, Uncle Hugh has to be in London in late June. The Crompton Gallery in Brook Street is holding a major retrospective of his work and they want him to be there for the private view. I have to be south then anyway to see my publishers, so I’ve offered to drive him up to London. We’ve got a small flat in Warwick Square so I’ll stay there but I expect he’ll prefer to be at his club where they always make a terrific fuss of him. If you happened to be in London you might like to come and meet him then? I’m hoping to persuade him to let the gallery borrow Girl on the Rock for the exhibition – it’s never been shown before because he’s always refused – then you could see why it made such an impression on me. I thought it might be easier for you than coming all the way up to Yorkshire to see him. What do you think?’
‘Oh, I’d love that,’ said Victoria. ‘If you give me the dates I’ll see if Richard’s lawyer can give me an appointment that week and find out if it would suit my father-in-law as well.’
‘Would you be staying in London?’ asked Patrick.
‘I shall have to go home to Baybury – it’s one of the many things I need to do, but I’ll probably spend a few days in London first. Richard and I looked on my cousin Guy’s house as our London base – a second home – but he’s just got married so I can’t assume I can turn up any old time without warning like I used to. I’ll have to sound his wife out – but I expect they’ll have me.’ She wondered what it would be like to stay with Francine and what it would be like, now, to stay with Guy. Could she face it?
‘Wonderful,’ said Patrick. ‘Let me know if you can arrange your other dates to suit. That would be great. And,’ he hesitated for a moment, ‘could I take you out to dinner one night?’ But before she could answer he rushed on, almost as if he were afraid she might refuse, ‘Please remember me to your grandmother and tell her she still casts a spell on Uncle Hugh. I’ll be in touch again very soon.’
After he’d rung off Victoria felt as if she had been given an injection of new energy and resolution – and hope.
