Another silence surrounded us, this time like a shroud, tucking us into our private corner. Even the distant music thumped like a heartbeat. Totally lost, that was it. And I was still lost, looking into those amazing big eyes, childish and helpless, asking for my help, still backlit with that strange sexy fire that told me she was harder than she looked and knew more than I did. I wondered how long it would take before she pulled away from me. But she didn’t move. She was staring, too. What did she see? An older, more knackered version of herself, perhaps, with green eyes instead of blue, more laughter lines, but blonde like her, slim like her, sex-mad like her …
She started to speak, but bit into that luscious pink lower lip again and instead leaned against me. I let my arm steal round her waist. The warmth of the thick fabric outlined her hidden curves and it had now gone from strangely comforting to slowly arousing, holding her close to me as we made slow progress round another corner and I recognised the glass showroom I had visited earlier that day. I caught the eye of the proprietor as we hurried past it, wondering what Signora Martelli would think seeing the hard-nosed buyer from London tottering along the street arm in arm with a beautiful nun.
‘Hey, another thing you haven’t told me, Natalia. If everything’s so rosy between you, why were you arguing with Carlo just now?’
She shook her head. Her ankle must have been feeling better, because she diverted us briskly round the back of the shops.
‘Go on. We’re friends now, aren’t we?’
She glanced at me. Her eyelashes were so long. ‘He’s been getting rough with me. Rougher than usual.’
She stopped beneath an old, crumbling wall. Dry ivy spilled over it and a large looming building cast its shadow from the garden inside.
‘Natalia? I can help you, remember?’
‘We’re here,’ she muttered, pointing at a tiny wooden door in the wall. ‘This is Santa Maria Convent.’
I lifted her chin.
‘Tell me what he did to you.’
‘Oh, bella signora! Don’t worry, it’s nothing like that.’ She shook her head. ‘He didn’t hurt me. I liked it. But some of the things he makes me do – I know it’s because he wants me to love what we do, get addicted, so much that I won’t be able to stop. So much that I’ll have to leave the convent.’
‘So why the argument?’
‘The usual. Trying to persuade me to stay with him. The stupid thing is our life together is just like being in the convent, now. We have to stay indoors. We can never go out, in case someone sees us … He went too far, that’s all. Over the top. And I got angry. As you saw.’
We both jerked up our heads like a pair of reindeer at a quiet rustling sound inside the garden behind us: leaves, or footsteps – we couldn’t tell. No one was passing along the alleyway.
‘You can tell me anything, Sister.’
I liked the way that sounded. She paused. I could swear I heard someone clear their throat behind the door, but I kept my eyes on her.
‘OK. But only because I’ll never see you again. He went on so long today, made me drink wine and water all afternoon, wouldn’t let me go to the toilet, and then he made me lie on my stomach so that I was pressing down on my bladder and there was this swelling, stinging sensation, actually it felt good, but then he took me from behind, all the time pressing his hands on my stomach, and he fucked me until the piss started to come, it was trickling hot down my legs, on to the bed, and I was getting embarrassed trying to stop it, but he was laughing and then I was starting to come as well, and I couldn’t tell the difference because it was this hot building sensation and then as I came I totally pissed myself and it was such a relief and an amazing climax and he was shouting with pleasure, he loved it, but it was all a big messy gush but then it felt wet and dirty and when it stopped I was totally humiliated. I was furious with him!’
I gave a low whistle. ‘You got me there, girl. Even I’m a little – OK, I’m shocked by that!’
‘You see? I have to decide. I have to leave him.’
She pushed her face close to me, daring me to stop her I think. She was so close that I moved a little and our lips brushed tantalisingly. Again we paused, our lips warm and damp against each other. I wanted to go further and kiss her. I had never kissed a woman on the mouth, but it was like the Katy Perry song. I wanted to kiss a girl I’d met less than an hour ago because I knew I would like it.
But the girl said, ‘And now I have to leave you.’
Something like panic gripped me. ‘You don’t have to go in there, Natalia. Come with me to my hotel. Leave them, leave him, come with me back to London!’
A smile tugged at her lips, and I felt a crazy urge to giggle. It sounded mad, but marvellous! This beautiful girl, by my side, coming home with me from Venice like a glittering, glorious souvenir. ‘It’s more complicated than that – oh, I don’t know your name!’
‘I’m Jennifer. And it doesn’t have to be complicated. What’s the point of going in there and saying your prayers when you just want to be free?’
‘But I need to be in there, too!’ She put her hand on the door, resting it there as if it had a heartbeat. ‘I love being in here. It’s tugging at me now, physically tugging me to come back. Already Carlo, the memory of his kiss, his touch, his body, it’s all gone –’ she flicked her fingers dismissively ‘– and now I’m home.’
‘You’re not dismissing me as well!’ I took her by the arms, forcefully this time. Her head fell back and her veil slipped very slightly so that now I could see silky strands of hair falling into her eyes. ‘Come with me, now, Natalia! Just do it!’
She opened that luscious mouth and I’m certain she was going to say something amazing like ‘Great idea! I’m there!’ but instead she squealed and suddenly stumbled awkwardly backwards through the little door, which had swung wide open. I tripped over her and fell into the garden too, still holding on to her, and then just as suddenly the door slammed shut behind us.
We were in a small dark garden with starved-looking lemon trees standing around like statues but giving off an unusually strong scent for winter. Illuminated at the far end was a marble statue of the Virgin Mary, hands together and eyes cast to heaven.
‘I haven’t got time for this.’ I let go of her irritably. ‘What is it, Natalia? Why are you making silly faces at me?’
But her eyes just went wide as if she was scared.
‘They used to call these convents the pleasant prison, didn’t they? Girls who didn’t have the call, but were just plonked here by their fathers because they had no prospects.’
Natalia was mouthing something at me, but I reckoned she was just teasing. ‘Well, you’re welcome to it. If you want to stay here, that’s your funeral, or wedding, or whatever. Just tell me the way back to the Danieli Hotel, and I’m outta here.’
I turned towards the gate. An enormous, rough-looking man was barring the way. I couldn’t see his features in the darkness, but he was tall and broad, arms crossed and legs planted far apart, and he was holding some kind of rake or hoe. He jabbed his finger towards Natalia.
‘What’s his problem? Why doesn’t he say something?’
‘He’s deaf. He’s saying we have to go inside right now.’
‘Not me, sugar. I’ve got a business meeting to get to.’
But he shoved us both violently across the dusty garden and into the looming building, through another tiny door and up some stairs and before I could say another word we were in a kind of stark waiting room which smelt of tea and wet newspapers. There was no light, nothing but a table, a fire grate where one weak finger of flame flickered, and another enormous statue of the Virgin Mary. In