Well, there was just a little bit of doubt, but I was now going to stamp on it, grind it under my foot. I was going to be positive and determined, just like Jessica was when she had a challenge to meet.
The owner of the water taxi held out his hand, guided me onto the boat. I forced a smile, thanked him as he helped me down the steps and into the large cabin. A moment later Geoff was ducking his head, coming inside after me, taking the seat opposite.
The driver began to back out, edging his way into open water, manoeuvring the boat skilfully, as all of these Venetians seemed able to do. Staring at Geoff, I asked, ‘What about the food situation at the bolthole? Did you manage to go out and buy anything?’
He gave me a look that verged on the scornful, and exclaimed, ‘This ain’t my first rodeo, lady. What do you take me for, a greenhorn?’
Geoff laughed as he said this with a mock cowboy twang, and I laughed with him.
‘No, it ain’t your first rodeo, I know that, pal, but I figured you’d been a tad busy since you got here,’ I retorted.
‘I have stocked up. Claudia stayed with Zac, had coffee with him the day after we arrived, and I went out to the market, picked up lots of items, per Harry’s instructions.’
‘What did you buy?’ I asked.
‘Pastas, canned stuff, lots of fresh fruits and vegetables, the kind of things you like to make soup with, again per Harry’s advice. And Claudia did the rounds for me early this morning, bought fresh bread, cheese, butter, milk, oh and two chickens and chicken bouillon for your soup.’
‘My famous chicken in the pot,’ I muttered almost to myself, and then remembered how much Zac liked it. I focused on Geoff again, and added, ‘Thanks for doing the shopping, I’m grateful.’
‘My pleasure. I also want you to know that I’ve booked myself into the Bauer Hotel, moved my junk over there already. You must be alone with Zac. You’ll succeed much better without me hovering over the two of you. And if there’s any sort of emergency, I can be there real quick, and there’s also Claudia downstairs.’
‘Oh,’ I said. ‘Oh, okay, that’s fine.’ But was it, I wondered?
‘Don’t sound so concerned, Serena, you’ll see, he’ll respond to you better than he has to me.’ He leaned forward, turned his intelligent grey eyes on me. ‘It’s you he wants with him, you he depends on, you he needs.’
I made no response, just gazed at him.
Geoff exclaimed, ‘Hey, I’m not copping out, don’t think that! I really believe it’s better that I’m out of the way. He’s still in love with you, take my word for it, and once you’re there, he’ll become calm.’
‘Isn’t he calm?’ I asked anxiously, envisioning a rampant Zac, angry and upset, the way he’d been when we’d broken up eleven months ago. ‘Is he agitated? Excited? What state is he in?’
‘None of those you’ve mentioned. He’s … well, sort of nervous, moves around a lot, doesn’t seem able to sit still for long. Goes from one room to the next. But he’s not yelling and shouting, nothing like that. I told you, he doesn’t speak much. He’s very closed in. Remote, very distant, as if he’s in another world.’
Oh God, I thought, perhaps he’s in catatonic shock. Some kind of shock, anyway. Why wasn’t he talking to Geoff? They’d been through a lot together, they were war buddies, veterans of battle on the front line. Which is why Harry sent him to get Zac out. What was I going to do for him? How could I bring him back? Get him to be more normal? And how would I get him to eat and sleep?
Geoff must have read something in my expression, and he reached out, put his hand on my knee, and said in a low, reassuring voice, ‘You’ll be fine, honey, stop chewing it over. Zac needs you, and you’ll succeed where nobody else could.’
‘I hope so,’ I sighed, shaking my head. ‘I’ll give it a try.’
‘Your very best bloody try,’ Geoff asserted and squeezed my hand.
The water taxi dropped us off at the jetty near the Piazza San Marco, and we walked across the piazza slowly and in silence.
We were both lost in our own thoughts. I was recalling the times I had come here in the past, such happy times with my family, or with Zac, the two of us alone. Often I had been here in the height of the summer when the piazza was jammed with tourists from all over the world. But this was not the tourist season and it was less crowded on this chilly morning.
There were some people moving ahead of us, heading for the shops on the Frezzeria or Florian and Quadri cafés. Other tourists were sitting at the small tables in the square, watching the passers-by and the pigeons fluttering around or gazing at the magnificent Basilica di San Marco, marvelling at its beauty and whiling away the morning until lunchtime.
Geoff and I headed for a far corner of the piazza and the narrow cobbled street where the bolthole was located. Unexpectedly, Geoff came to a standstill and turned to me, taking hold of my arm. ‘Listen,’ he exclaimed, ‘I forgot to tell you one thing. I must warn—’
‘About what?’ I asked, cutting across him.
‘Zac and television. He has all the sets on at the same time on different networks. And he’s watching them constantly.’ He grimaced. ‘He’s watching one or the other, night and day, and he gets furious if you try to turn one off. So don’t do it. Humour him, okay?’
I nodded. ‘What’s he watching?’ I asked, and knew the answer before Geoff spoke.
‘War coverage, of course. General news. But mostly war coverage. He’s addicted to war, Serena.’
‘I know that,’ I said. My voice was a whisper.
We reached the building and went up to the third floor in the small, rather narrow elevator. When we got to the door of the bolthole I stood staring at it. Geoff was staring at me. Waiting.
Finally I said, ‘Okay.’ I took a deep breath. ‘I’m okay. Let’s go in.’
Noise from the various television sets bounced off the walls of the apartment, but when Zac saw me standing in the doorway he immediately turned off the one in the living room and got up out of the chair. The other TVs in the bedrooms continued to drone on, but they were at least muted to a certain degree, creating only background noise.
I put my handbag on the table, shrugged out of my pea jacket, draped it around a chair back, walked towards Zac. He had remained standing near the TV, had not moved, and his eyes were riveted on me.
To say I was shocked by his appearance was an understatement. I was appalled. He had lost a great deal of weight, which somehow made him look taller, and his face was gaunt. I could see that quite clearly even though he had a lot of stubble, had obviously not shaved for days on end. His brown hair had lost its lustre, looked grey and strangely dusty, and there was an air of exhaustion about him. He appeared diminished; even his green eyes were dulled, had lost their sparkle, and his mouth was pinched.
As I walked forward he came towards me, and a moment later my arms went around him. I held him close. He was so thin I could feel his bones through his shirt, and my heart ached for him, for his suffering. A split second later I experienced such a rush of love and tenderness I was startled at myself.
War had taken its horrendous toll on him, and I knew I must make him better, bring him back to life, to what he had been before. Whether there would be a future for us I did not know, nor did it matter at this moment. What I wanted was to get him well, no matter what. That was my aim, and my reason for being here.
Releasing him, I took a step away, turning