The Last Time I Saw Venice. Vivienne Wallington

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ to be more understanding and sympathetic.

      She raised her glass in a brave salute, wondering if it was already too late to pick up the pieces. He still hadn’t opened up to her…about the things that really mattered. The loss of their daughter…the loss of his career, though that, she hoped, was only temporary…and the cold, hard fact that they both lived on opposite sides of the world now, she in London, he in Sydney. Now that he’d had his healing year off, his old hospital must be clamouring to have him back.

      The hospital where Lily died…

      Her hand trembled on her wine glass. Simon had tried so hard to save his daughter, but he must have known in his heart, as all the doctors around him had known, that she was beyond saving. He’d had to watch his baby girl slip away beneath his fingers, the expert fingers that were trying so desperately to save her life. With that heartrending memory to haunt him, how could he ever face going back there?

      But there were plenty of other Australian hospitals that must be aware of Simon’s outstanding skills and reputation, many surely eager to grab him if they had the chance.

      * * *

      Simon lifted his own glass and clinked it against hers. She hadn’t answered his question, he noted, but she hadn’t given him the boot, either. Not yet.

      “To recovery,” he said. She could take that whichever way she liked. The recovery of her health…the recovery of trust after their horrendous loss…the recovery of their shattered marriage…even, thinking positively, the recovery of romance in their lives.

      What better place to rediscover romance than here in romantic Venice, where they’d first found it? Maybe he should think no further than that…romancing her, wooing her all over again, rediscovering the passion they’d lost. Maybe even embarking on a romantic second honeymoon, to revive the old magic, the old chemistry, before they had to leave Venice and face reality again.

      He looked deep into the shadowed green of her eyes. Two people in love, damn it, could face anything, overcome any obstacle. They’d managed to do it once before, hadn’t they? As compulsive workaholics with a shared ambition to reach the top of their respective fields and with no thought of marriage or settling down, they’d had to face the fact that they were going to have a baby together.

      Yeah…even though they’d allowed their work, rather than their relationship, to consume them, they’d made their marriage work once, for a while, at least. Until the loss of…he felt his throat catch. Until the worst tragedy of their lives had torn them apart.

      It’ll be different this time, he vowed, burying the old pain and letting his eyes caress hers as his senses drank in the subtle, familiar fragrance of her. They just needed to change a few things, make more time for each other, avoid the same mistakes, and to talk more, open up more, face their ghosts, something he’d always found difficult.

      Damn it, he still did.

      

      Annabel felt a jolt, like an electric charge, zip through her. Something had just changed…something in him…in his eyes, in the way the veiled blue suddenly cleared…in the way he was looking at her.

      It was the way he’d looked at her four years ago, when they first met…as if he were seeing her for the first time, and was excited by what he saw. She remembered the way she’d responded back then…and could feel herself responding in a similar way now. It felt…it felt as if they’d gone back in time and were starting all over again.

      Was it possible, after the harsh words they’d flung at each other yesterday, and the bitter, painful memories of their last months together?

      But that’s just it, you fool. He wants you to forget all that for now, to forget all the bad things, the pain, the hurt, and grab this chance to start again…from scratch.

      She felt her heart lift, and looked up, flashing a sudden dazzling smile. “We’re wasting time just sitting here. There’s a lot we’ve yet to explore in Venice. Ready to go?”

      “Let me just pay the bill.”

      “No, let me pay for you. Please.”

      He didn’t argue. They’d always shared costs in the past. Something her father would never have abided in a woman, she mused as she pulled out her purse.

      They walked back across the Accademia Bridge and decided, since it was open, to visit the Accademia Gallery. As expected, they found it an absolute treasure-house of magnificent Venetian paintings.

      They spent the rest of the afternoon wandering down narrow alleys with flower boxes overflowing with orange and pink geraniums and washing drying overhead, following small winding canals and crossing narrow bridges, discovering other treasures they’d missed four years ago, like the great Franciscan church known as the Frari, where they gazed in awe at the famous Titian and Bellini masterpieces.

      Returning to the nearest vaporetto station, Annabel bought a few postcards to send back to her colleagues at work, and one to send back home to Brisbane, just to let her parents know she was still alive. Having a short holiday in Venice, you should both come here sometime. No need to mention Simon, or that she’d been ill. Let them think her new life as an unattached career woman was perfect.

      Back at St. Mark’s Square, after a return vaporetto ride down the Grand Canal, they joined a short queue outside the towering Campanile and caught the lift up to the top of the bell tower for spectacular views of sun-drenched Venice and the Lagoon.

      “What a sight,” she breathed, darting from one side to the other. “Now I know what they mean by a bird’s eye-view. You can see everything!”

      “Not quite everything. Haven’t you noticed something is missing from up here?” Simon was standing so close behind her she could feel his breath spreading the fine hairs on her head.

      “What?” she asked, her voice husky. Right now all she could think of was him and how tempted she felt to turn around and…

      Cool it, you idiot. A crowded bell tower’s hardly the place for romantic canoodling.

      Simon’s voice rumbled back. “You can see the whole of Venice lying below, but you can’t see any canals. Not even the Grand Canal, except where it runs into the Lagoon.”

      She stared downward. “Good heavens, you’re right, you can’t. Not a single one. How amazing.” Almost as amazing as it was to be back here in Venice, alone with her estranged husband. If you could call being among crowds of tourists alone.

      “Time we were going down,” Simon said, glancing at his watch. “Let’s go.”

      “What’s the hurry?” she asked as he ushered her back to the lift. Did he have to meet someone? Tom, maybe?

      He grinned. “The bells strike on the hour, and we don’t want to be deafened.”

      “Oh.” She glanced up at the five huge bells and felt a twinge of relief that he wasn’t leaving her for someone else.

      “Want to head back to the hotel now for a rest?” he asked when they and a dozen or so others spilled out of the crowded lift.

      The prospect of putting her feet up for a while made her realize how footsore and weary she was after all the walking they’d done. Her bout of pneumonia had hit her hard and СКАЧАТЬ