On either side of them were ancient buildings, many that were probably warehouses, with massive tree trunks driven vertically into the seabed in front of them to act as mooring posts. Bright green barges carrying everything from piles of rubbish to crates of beer chugged past, performing the same tasks that vans and trucks would do in a normal city. Carving through them, the long, low vaporetto – waterbuses – carried passengers to and fro just like ordinary buses did on dry land. A police launch and a fire brigade boat came past and Emma realised that even cities built in the middle of a lagoon could catch fire or have bank robberies. Gradually, she started to come to terms with this city on the water. It truly was unique.
They passed under a number of modern-looking bridges before they found themselves approaching the railway station.
‘Is this where Emily and Robert say goodbye?’ Mark was at her side. Emma shook her head.
‘No, the big heart-breaking goodbye scene is on the quayside. He goes off in a launch like this.’ She hesitated. ‘Mind you, I suppose it only took him to the station and from here he would have caught a train to wherever he was going. That is, of course, if there already was a station here in 1914.’
‘A station, yes – just not this one. The line linking Venice with the mainland was completed, believe it or not, as early as the middle of the nineteenth century, but this station was built to replace the original one between the First and the Second World War, so it wouldn’t have been there at the time of your movie. So Rich’s dad’s idea of having the big farewell at the waterside makes sense.’
The launch passed underneath the beautiful wide-arched Ponte degli Scalzi and entered the Grand Canal. Gradually the more modern buildings around the station area gave way to ancient palazzi with arched windows and ornate render on the walls. Some were white, many a sun-bleached pink and others different shades of ochre from bright orange to palest cream. The mooring posts were no longer bare wood. Many were painted in colourful stripes and whirls and for the first time they began to see the iconic gondolas. Narrow alleys and equally narrow canals led off on both sides and many of the grander houses had their own moorings and entrances directly off the Grand Canal itself. Emma breathed it in and just knew that the finale of the movie had to be set here.
‘Do you intend putting Emily and Robert on a gondola?’ Mark had been watching the seemingly effortless skill of a gondolier in his stripy jumper as he sculled a gondola out of one narrow canal and across the main channel before disappearing into an even narrower canal on the opposite side of the Grand Canal.
Emma nodded. ‘I hope so, but on quiet backwaters, I would think. It’ll depend on Erasmus, but it would be a shame to bring them to Venice and not let them go in a gondola. Have you ever been in one?’
‘I’m afraid so.’
‘Why “afraid”?’
‘You’d think it would be a lovely romantic way to travel, but all it did for me was to make me feel like a goldfish in a bowl. Everywhere you go, you get your photograph taken and I certainly didn’t find it conducive to romance.’
‘So you’re not going to take me on a romantic moonlit tour of the city in a gondola?’ She was kidding, but she enjoyed teasing him.
‘My darling girl, if you want a ride in a gondola, I’ll grit my teeth and come with you, but I’d feel happier wearing Ethan’s wig and shades if I did.’
Emma rather liked the sound of being his ‘darling girl’ so she relented. ‘It’s all right, I won’t force you. We haven’t got much time anyway.’ That, she knew, was all too true.
From time to time they passed old churches, glamorous hotels or ostentatious palazzi. Everywhere they looked there were window boxes brimming with colourful flowers and even a few canal-side gardens boasting palm trees. Many of the buildings had roof gardens overlooking the canal and Emma definitely liked the look of those. She could imagine Emily and Robert, or maybe Mark and herself, standing up there looking out over the fading grandeur of this marvellous city. Remembering what Rich had suggested in Siena, maybe a scene shot at rooftop level might be the best way of avoiding the crowds of twenty-first century tourists.
The further along the Grand Canal they travelled, the more splendid the buildings became. The boatman pointed out magnificent palazzi like the Venice Casino, the Cà d’Oro gallery and the Foscari family’s Venetian palace as the canal took a right-hand curve and they were confronted with the famous Rialto Bridge. This stunning marble-faced bridge with its covered porticoes was packed with tourists and Emma began to realise that almost everywhere else that wasn’t water was similarly crowded. Venice was very definitely full to bursting. Managing to get space for a film crew was going to be near impossible – unless they went up onto the roofs.
The canal continued to wind its tortuous way through the city until the broad expanse of the lagoon was once more visible in the distance. As they finally emerged into open water, the buildings on their left suddenly gave way and they had a clear view of St Mark’s Square, the Palazzo Ducale, St Mark’s Basilica and the famous red-brick bell tower, rising high into the sky. It was an impressive and beautiful sight and Emma was delighted when Marina told them their hotel was barely a hundred yards or so from here. Emma resolved to come back on foot and take a closer look – in spite of the mass of humanity already doing just that.
* * *
Their hotel was exquisite. Marina told them it had been built in the fourteenth century and the interior was like something out of the Arabian Nights – a symphony of marble, fine art and unashamed luxury. She immediately recognised it from a Hollywood movie starring Johnny Depp and Angelina Jolie and wondered if JMGP would use it for Dreaming of Italy. Whether they did or didn’t, as the place where she and Mark would spent their last night together, it was unparalleled, and Emma could feel a wonderful sense of anticipation growing inside her, even though she knew it would only be short-lived.
As far as the whole ‘better to have loved and lost’ thing was concerned, she would now at least be able to say she had loved. And in a place like this with a man like Mark, she knew it would be unforgettable.
In spite of the wonders of Venice just outside the door, Emma had no hesitation in spending the remainder of the afternoon in bed with Mark. Marina had somehow managed to find them two rooms with a communicating door linking them together and when she saw him come through the door, with just a towel around his waist, she thought she would explode with joy.
The rooms were at the front of the hotel and looked straight out onto the lagoon. She made them cups of tea which they drank sitting up in bed looking out over the grey-green water, criss-crossed by the wakes of boats of all sizes. The hotel had also supplied some gorgeous chocolate biscuits and she happily nibbled one as she leant against his shoulder. If it hadn’t been for their imminent separation, it would have been heaven. His mind must have been working along similar lines.
‘I can’t think of a better way to spend the evening – the hotel, the view and, of course the amazing room service.’ He leant down and kissed her forehead.
She sipped her tea. This really did feel perfect.
‘Emma.’ His voice sounded hesitant. ‘You do know I can’t come over to the States with you, don’t you? It’s not because I don’t want to. It’s just that the hotel’s too new.’