Her New Year Baby Secret(20)

       
           



       

She might, possibly, have been able to laugh the whole thing off if it  weren't for the pregnancy. Guilt, embarrassment and fear mingled in a  toxic concoction every time Marco's mother opened her mouth. Every time  Signora Santoro mentioned children guilt shot through Sophie, like a  physical pain. It took everything she had to sit and pretend everything  was okay, not to jump up and announce her pregnancy in a rush of tears.  She still thought it was fair to wait until after the wedding, it was  just a week's delay after all, but she knew in her heart she was  deceiving Marco, lying to him by omission.

And part of her knew it wasn't Bianca's welfare really driving her, it  was fear. She'd spent so long living her mother's dreams, only to crush  them when she'd walked away, the rift still no way near repaired. Then  she'd allowed Harry to set her course, making him the sole focus of her  life. This family was so certain, so overbearing, so grand and  overwhelming-what if they tried to take control as soon as they knew  about the baby? Had the last year and a half given her enough strength  to hold firm and make her own choices?

Time would tell, but she needed these days to prepare. To try to work  out exactly what she, Sophie Bradshaw, wanted, before the Santoro  expectations descended onto her.

She took a deep breath and walked into the room, hooking a chair and  sitting down, swiping a piece of brioche off Marco's plate as she did  so. The key to fighting off both the tiredness and nausea, she'd  realised, was carbs and plenty of them. The way she was eating she'd be  sporting plenty of bumps long before the baby actually started to show.

'Good morning. All on your own?'

Marco folded his newspaper up and pushed it to one side. Sophie really  liked the way he focussed his full attention on the people he was with,  apologising if he checked his phone or took a call. He never kept his  phone on the table when they were out, never scrolled through it when  she was speaking. Harry had never made any secret of the fact every  contact in his phone, every game, every meme, every football result came  before her. 'You just missed Mamma and Bianca. They told me to remind  you that you can join them at any time. Apparently the twenty times they  asked you last night wasn't a pressing enough invitation. Are you sure  you don't want to go with them?'

Sophie grinned. 'Your mother, Bianca's future mother-in-law, all five of  her future sisters-in-law and her three best friends all alternately  talking in Italian so I sit there gaping like a goldfish before  switching to English to quiz me on your intentions and my potential  wedding plans? There's not a spa luxurious enough to tempt me.' She  realised how ungrateful that sounded and backtracked quickly. 'I like  them all well enough, in fact I love Bianca and your mother  individually...'

'But together they strike fear into the heart of the bravest warrior?'

'They really do. Besides, the day after tomorrow it's the wedding and I  fly back to London the morning after that. I'm making final adjustments  to Bianca's and the bridesmaids' dresses tomorrow, which makes this my  last free day here. I want to make the most of it. Explore Venice one  final time.'

'Do you want some company?'

Happiness fizzed up at the casual words. 'Of course, but don't you need to work? Don't worry about me if so...'

Giuliana, one of the maids, set a cup, a small teapot and a plate laden  with sweet bread, slices of fruit, cheese and a couple of pastries in  front of Sophie. Her preference for herbal tea first thing had caused  some consternation in the caffeinated household at first, but the staff  had eventually adjusted to both tea and her very un-Venetian need for a  breakfast more substantial than a few bites of something quick. Sophie  nodded her thanks, grateful as the familiar ginger aroma wafted up,  displacing the bitter scent of coffee and settling her queasy stomach.

'A few days off seems like the perfect plan right now,' Marco said as  Sophie started to tuck in. 'I need time to think about where my business  is headed, how I can continue to grow and still meet my obligations to  the family business.' His mouth twisted into a rueful smile. 'I realised  yesterday that even if I don't want to take over I still need to be  involved. Besides, when I started out I used my contacts here to source  antiques, but it was important for me to be in London to build contacts  for the other side of the business, the people I would sell to. I've  been based there ten years, own a house in Chelsea. In many ways it's my  home.'

Right there and then the chasm between them widened even further. Sophie  rented a shoebox on the top floor of a building on a busy road. Buses  thundered past at all hours of the day and night, streetlights lit up  her room, casting an orange glow over her dreams, and the bass from the  flat below provided a thudding soundtrack to everything she did. Half  her pay went straight to her landlord. Owning a home of her own was a  distant enough dream, her city shoebox well out of her range. A whole  house? In Chelsea? Not for the likes of her.                       
       
           



       

It was all going to make telling him about the baby even harder. If only  they were equals financially... She pushed the thought away, adding it  to her ever-lengthening list of things to worry about in the future.  'But now?'

'I still need an office and a base in London, but those contacts are  secure. I have a whole global network of dealers, buyers, designers who  know and trust me. I'm having to work a little harder on the Italian  side now. There's a new generation of suppliers coming along and I don't  have the same links with them, the same trust. It means I'm no longer  the automatic first choice and that could impact my future stock.'

'So, you need to spend more time here?' Her heart twisted. She had no  idea what her future held, but she hadn't expected to have a baby with a  man she wasn't committed to, a man who spent half his life out of the  country.

Suck it up, she told herself fiercely. This will be your reality. Deal with it.

'I do. But these are thoughts for another day. I'm very much aware how  much we owe you, Sophie. Bianca would have imploded if you hadn't  stayed. Let me make it up to you. Anything you want. How do you want to  spend the day? A trip to the lakes? To Roma? Buy out the whole of the  lace shops on Burano?'

Guilt twisted again. She'd had her own selfish reasons for staying, for  getting close to Marco's family. But she couldn't pass up this  opportunity to spend a day with the father of her child-and she didn't  want to. She wanted to spend the day with him, to get to know him a  little better, to have one last carefree day before she shattered his  world. 'Nothing so elaborate. Show me your Venice, Marco, the things you  love most about the city. That's what I'd like to do today. If you're  okay with that.'

'Really? That's what you want to do? You're willing to take the risk?'  He looked surprised, but he was smiling. 'In that case I'll meet you  back here in half an hour. Wear comfy shoes and wrap up warm. We may be  out for some time.'





CHAPTER TEN

SOPHIE INSTANTLY FELL in love with the Dorsoduro. Although there were  plenty of tourists around, exclaiming over the views and taking selfies  with the canals and bridges as backdrops, it had a more relaxed air than  the streets around the Rialto Bridge and Saint Mark's square, a sense  of home and belonging, especially once they reached the quieter back  streets and small tree-lined squares. Amongst the grocery and souvenir  shops, the cafés and restaurants, she spotted some gorgeous boutiques,  specialising in stationery, in paints, in textiles as well as enticing  pastry and confectionery shops that made her mouth water and she itched  to explore further. 'Can I go shopping before lunch and then explore  this afternoon? I'd really like to look at those textiles if I could.'

'Of course. I'm not sure how we've managed to miss this area out of our  tours,' Marco said. 'We spent some time in the east of the sestieri, but  somehow we haven't wandered here.'

'That's because we were meant to come here today. It's been waiting for me all week, an old friend I haven't met yet.'

'That's exactly what this area is, an old friend. If I ever lived back  in Venice full-time, I wouldn't want to live in the palazzo. I'd prefer a  little house tucked away in the back streets here. Something smaller  than the London house, overlooking a canal.'

No one Sophie had ever met who lived in London had ever wanted something  smaller. Curiosity got the better of her manners. 'How big is your  house in London?'

Marco shrugged. 'Four bedrooms. It's just a terrace, round the back of  the King's Road. Three floors and a basement, courtyard garden.'

Sophie managed to keep walking somehow. Just a terrace. Just round the  back of the King's Road. She often walked those streets, picking out her  favourites from the ivy-covered, white and pastel painted houses,  knowing that houses like that, lifestyles like that, were as beyond her  dreams as living on Mars.