Page 35 of The Venice Murders

‘I don’t know if I can bear to walk to the Minerva this evening.’ Flora yawned, her head slumped on his shoulder. ‘Or even open my mouth to talk.’

‘Sally will be disappointed if you don’t go.’ He fell silent, thinking how best to say what he wanted. ‘Flora,’ he began, when they were midway across the lagoon, ‘I think maybe you should meet Sally alone.’

Flora straightened in her seat, suddenly energised. ‘You want me to go on my own? But why?’

‘I think it would be easier, less awkward if I wasn’t there. She wouldn’t feel so bad about interrupting our honeymoon.’

‘Maybe sheshouldfeel bad.’

‘You know you don’t mean that. And if you intend to talk to her about Bianca, I reckon you’ll get far more from her if there’s just the two of you and a glass of wine.’

‘Therewillbe plenty to talk about,’ Flora said hesitantly. ‘And Sally is bound to know more than we do.’

But on the verge of agreeing, she was hit by a sudden frisson of fear. Above the surface of the waves an image glimmered – the figure at the Redentore. The Minerva hotel wasn’t far from the church, she imagined, and what if the blue-shirted man was lurking close? She needed her husband beside her.

‘On the other hand,’ she countered, ‘Sally could find it odd if you weren’t with me. It could make her feel even worse about the “gatecrashing”. I think you need to come, Jack. And she could have useful information. It was Bianca who asked her to visit and, by now, the girl must have spilt whatever beans there were to spill. Why Franco really pulled out of the engagement, for instance.’

Jack could hazard a fairly accurate guess. Cold feet. He’d had plenty of them himself, but he kept a diplomatic silence.

13

The Hotel Minerva boasted only one bar but it was already crowded when Flora and Jack arrived a few minutes after seven. It was a cosy space with a terrace overlooking the Giudecca Canal and was already filled with chattering customers.

Sally, dressed in a glamorous black sheath, was at the bar and, hearing her name called, swivelled round on her stool to greet them.

She jumped up to hug first Flora and then Jack. ‘It’s so good to see you both – and isn’t Venice heavenly?’

They could only nod in agreement, both of them slightly stunned by Sally’s transformation. A black sheath? A bright red chunky necklace with lipstick to match? And shoes with three-inch heels! Flora was admiring of this new Sally, envious even, but she did wonder what Alice would have to say. If Sally wanted a quiet life, and she probably did, she would lose the lipstick and the heels before she reappeared in Abbeymead.

‘I’m not sure we’ll manage to find seats,’ she was saying, ‘but we could go somewhere else?—’

‘No need.’ Jack had spotted a table that had just become free. ‘If we’re nifty, we can grab the one on the terrace.’

Flora was the niftiest and took possession before another group of friends could stake a claim.

‘Italian wine is delicious, don’t you think?’ Slipping into a seat, Sally held up her half-filled glass.

‘Three glasses then?’ Jack turned back to the bar to join a queue that had grown since they’d arrived.

‘Jack’s a sweetie,’ Sally said, ‘but I’m glad to have the chance to speak to you alone, Flora. I wanted to say I’m really sorry about what seems like my intruding. I would never have come to Venice only…Bianca phoned, asking me for help, and she sounded terrible. I really did wonder what I was coming to, but actually I think all she really wanted was to talk – she doesn’t seem to have many friends. And to be honest, I was desperate for a break, and the thought of a week in Venice was so tempting. But I knew you and Jack were here and on your honeymoon. And it was…awkward.’

Flora reached out to clasp her hand. ‘It doesn’t have to be and you have a perfect right to visit. We’re doing our own thing and I’m sure you are, too. There’s masses to see and we’re unlikely to be bumping into each other every five minutes. But?—’

She broke off. The picture of Bianca that Sally had just painted hardly matched the girl Flora had met a few days ago at this very hotel. It could be that Bianca had been determined not to show her feelings, despite being deeply troubled over the loss of her fiancé, but on the other hand…sounding terrible on a telephone call to a friend she hardly ever spoke to? Begging that friend to come to Venice immediately? Something didn’t chime right.

Sally’s gaze had become fixed on her, her friend’s eyes full of worry. ‘I really am sorry, Flora,’ she stammered out another apology. ‘About my being here.’

‘No, no,’ she hastened to say, realising how Sally must be interpreting her silence. She should stop thinking and start talking. ‘It’s not a problem, Sally. Honestly. And it’s nice to catch up with what’s been happening in Abbeymead. Not that I’ve missed the village, which is strange. It must be the first time ever.’

‘Not strange to me. This city is magical – how could you want to be anywhere else? And the brilliant thing is that I’ve still a few more days to enjoy it.’

‘So…Bianca telephoned you, you say?’ It somehow mattered for Flora to be sure of the girl’s true feelings.

‘Out of the blue. We’ve sent the occasional card since she moved back to Italy: birthdays and Christmas and a postcard when I went to the Lake District with Dominic. And we’ve spoken from time to time on the phone, but getting her call was a huge surprise.’

‘What did she say, exactly?’

‘That her father had been very unwell. She was desperately upset about him, worried that he’d fall sick again even though the doctors seemed happy. I tried to reassure her, say all the right things, but then suddenly she announced that her engagement had fallen through. She actually began crying down the phone. It seemed to me that she didn’t have anyone here she could talk to, but I was dumbfounded when she asked me to come.’

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