The Last Time I Saw Venice. Vivienne Wallington
Basilica were opened and they and the rest of the queue began to surge forward.
It was worth the wait. Just like four years ago, they found their senses assailed by the magnificence all around them—the dazzling gold mosaics; the exquisite Pala d’Oro, the famous gold, enamel and jewel- encrusted altarpiece; and the Galleria and Museum upstairs, home of the original gilded bronze horses. From there, they had wonderful views of the Basilica’s cavernous interior and the awesome mosaics decorating the huge central dome.
An hour passed, stretching into another. It was only when he saw Annabel lean against a pillar that Simon realized how tired she must be, and remembered that she was still recuperating from an energy-sapping illness.
“Let’s find a quiet place to sit down and grab a bite to eat,” he said, half expecting her to knock back the offer and insist on going back to her hotel to rest. There was still a wariness about her that sounded a warning. Don’t push it. You’ve only just found her again and she’s plainly still upset that your so-called godlike surgical skills failed to save our baby daughter. His heart constricted at the agonizing memory.
It wasn’t going to be easy. Far from it. In her eyes, their marriage was dead, and it was going to take a miracle to change her mind. She’d never wanted to settle down and get married in the first place. Marriage had been forced on her. He’d forced it on her. And now their reason for getting married had tragically gone, leaving her free to concentrate on her soaring legal career, the career she’d worked so hard for and which had always meant more to her than anything else in her life.
“You know of a place?” she asked, and he felt some of the heaviness lift from the black place deep inside him. She hadn’t run away yet. Maybe she was just curious about what he intended to do now that he was back in circulation, or maybe—hopefully—she felt a bit more than that, wanted a bit more than that.
At least she was giving him the chance to find out. And a chance, with luck, to mend some bridges and begin to heal the rift between them. Could she forgive him? Would she ever stop secretly blaming him? He’d blamed her for a black moment when he’d first heard about the accident, but that had changed once he’d learned the true circumstances. Maybe she could change, too, and learn to forgive him.
He sought her lovely green eyes and nodded. “Well, yes, I do, but we’ll need to take a vaporetto ride along the Grand Canal to the Accademia Bridge. The concierge at the hotel recommended a place.”
“Okay.” She didn’t even hesitate. “Lead the way.”
The cooling breeze brushed Annabel’s face as she stood beside Simon on the crowded deck of the slow, grinding water bus, watching the passing boats and elegant mansions along the Grand Canal and the shimmering reflections in the dancing green water. As a gondola carrying a young starry-eyed couple holding hands passed below them, it was suddenly rocked in the wash of the vaporetto and she felt memories of four years ago flood back. She flicked a glance at Simon.
Her eyes clashed with his, and she knew he was thinking of that day, too, remembering how she’d tumbled out of her rocking gondola into the Grand Canal and how he’d jumped in to rescue her. Would they ever recapture the magic of that exciting first meeting in Venice, and the blissful days that had followed?
What better place than magical Venice to recapture it!
* * *
“Well? Reckon this will do?” “It’s perfect.” It was away from the crowds of tourists, in a spacious yet quiet square, with an old church, an imposing central statue, antique and fashion shops, and outdoor restaurants. Ristorante Masaniello was small and the staff friendly. A favorite of Venetians, the restaurant was famous for its fresh fish. The concierge had told them not to order off the tourist menu, and they didn’t regret leaving it up to the expert staff to select their meal. Over one of the best lunches they’d ever enjoyed—a special Sicilian fish dish that was steamed and served with mint—it was Simon who asked the first question of the many that still hovered between them.
“Tell me how your job’s going, Annabel.” She pursed her lips. The question he was really asking was: Are you a partner yet? “They made me an associate a year ago, but remember, this is an old, conservative law firm that still seems to prefer males as partners. Other top firms these days are more enlightened.”
“You’ve never thought of jumping ship to a rival firm?” Simon asked. “I’m sure you’d have no trouble finding one that’d be keen to snap you up.”
“You mean, give up and leave? No!” She was shocked. “It would be admitting defeat, and it wouldn’t be loyal to Mallaby’s. Besides, it’s a very prestigious law firm and being a partner there would mean a lot to me and to my career. I’m determined to persevere and be their first female partner. If only to prove to myself that it’s possible.”
“Is that the only reason?” There was a knowing glint in his eye. “Only to yourself?”
She looked at him and twitched her lip. “Well, okay, maybe also to prove to my father that I can succeed in a male-dominated career and compete with the top guys. To prove to him and my brothers that women have an equally important role in the workplace, and don’t just belong in the bedroom and kitchen.”
“Your father still hasn’t accepted it? Having a daughter who’s chosen a high-powered career rather than the traditional housewife-and-mother role?”
She didn’t answer for a second, wondering for the first time if he had some regrets himself that she hadn’t become a full-time mother to Lily and a stay-at-home wife to him. But she quickly dismissed the notion. Simon had always been totally supportive and encouraging, never criticizing her long hours and agreeing without demur when she’d engaged a nanny to help take care of Lily while she was at work.
They’d been two of a kind…both equally driven, equally determined to reach their grand, high-flying goals. And what a price they’d paid. She shivered, trying to brush off the shadows.
“No. My father will never change,” she said finally, hoping Simon would put her silence down to a daughter’s pain at her father’s inflexible, sexist attitude, not to regrets over their own lives. “Men like him never do. My brothers are just the same. They’re both looking for wives like our mother—women willing to devote their lives to their husbands and children, with no independence or financial control for themselves.”
The men in her family were the reason she’d left Queensland and fled south to Sydney to study law. To escape the stifling influence back home. Her father and two brothers ran a thriving family business, a forklift rental and sales business, Joe Hansen and Sons. And Sons, she reflected sourly. Only sons had any worth in the Hansen men’s eyes.
“Maybe your mother’s happy being a full-time wife and homemaker,” Simon murmured.
“Happy!” She stabbed her fish with her fork. “She’d never admit it if she wasn’t. She keeps up appearances, pretends her life and marriage are perfect, and turns a blind eye to my father’s furtive little flings. Dad’s careful never to go too far. He would never risk his marriage by flaunting his women. He has the life he wants and I guess he does care for my mother in his own selfish way. But she’s trapped.”
“Trapped? In this day and age?” “Dad controls the finances. He keeps her comfortable enough not to rebel and he treats her okay…as long as she toes the line and keeps up the standards. She’s little more than a pampered slave.”
“I’m sure she’d find a way to leave if she really wanted to,” Simon soothed, lifting his glass of wine and taking a long sip.
“She doesn’t want to, and that’s what I can’t understand. I think she enjoys being a martyr, the so-called ideal wife and mother. She’d never break up the family, never disgrace her sons or her husband. The men in my family have her just where they want her.”
“Not all men are like your father and brothers.”
“No,” she agreed, and flicked him a softer look. Simon was nothing like her father or brothers. She and Simon