with whom she had spent so many hours on intimate terms, almost
like best friends, stayed out of sight.
She knew there was no way she could stay in town. The
family with whom she had been in service dreaded the idea of their
name being blemished in any way. They had given her three months’
salary and a clear request, or rather, a clear demand, that she get
on the first boat back to the mainland. She had hesitated before
acting on their wishes. She was not to be dismissed that easily. She
could, of course, have gone to ground, and after the birth of the
child simply lowered it in a jute sack into one of the canals. But the
very thought of it made her blood run cold; indeed, she nearly died
of shame that she had for an instant entertained such a notion. She
could also have taken the child to the orphanage, but that would
surely have been too great an irony! And anyway, her pride would
never have allowed her to go knocking at his door.
No, she felt herself alone responsible and she would see
what fate God dealt her. At last she had made her way to the
landing-stage and stepped aboard, still with no idea where she
would go when she disembarked. Best of all she would like to
return to her father, but that is her last alternative. My God, she
wonders, will I ever return here? She brushes away a tear and folds
her hands in her lap, near where lies hidden the tiny souvenir of
Venice she is taking with her.
Meanwhile, Lucia has gestured to the elder of the two oarsmen to
bring some drinking water. Without a word, he fills a beaker from
the vat and holds it out to her. She takes the beaker with a smile
and nudges the young lady, ‘Here you are, my sweetheart, take
some water. You’ll soon feel better.’
The girl sips the water thankfully, despite its vague taste
of algae. Lucia has, in the meantime, opened her basket and
dipped some bread in the sauce from the sardines. She offers it
to the young lady, but she politely declines. Lucia takes a
mouthful herself, and then continues enjoying her meal. To the
accompaniment of her chatter all about her dead husband, her
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