“This isn’t good,” the wife said, gesturing dramatically with her hands. “What about the fireworks? They can’t have fireworks in the rain. They said on the radio there might be a storm, but whoever believes the radio? We might have to pack up before everything is ruined, Luigi.”

I helped them pack up the food into baskets. It seemed they lived on Giudecca and would take the supplies and furniture home. If it didn’t rain, they’d be back for the fireworks. Did I want to come with them?

The first drops of rain spattered as she spoke, and a wind snatched at nearby tablecloths.

“I think perhaps I had better go home while I can,” I said. “I don’t want to get soaked going across two bridges.”

“Come and visit us again,” the father said. “The Olivetti family. Everyone knows where we live. Just around the corner there. You see? Come and visit. Any time. Come on a Sunday. You’ll always find us having a big meal like today, eh, Giovanna?”

She nodded agreement, smiling at me.

I thanked them profusely. The wife pinched my cheek and said she’d be working on finding a good man for me. The others embraced me. It was strange and wonderful at the same time. I watched them walk away, still talking and laughing loudly as fat raindrops spattered. I wondered whether I should take shelter, then I thought it might be wiser to cross the pontoon before the storm got any worse. Unfortunately, many other people had the same idea. A long line was waiting to get on to the walkway. I joined it, and we moved at a snail’s pace, getting increasingly wet. Around me there were wails and complaints as the rain intensified. I was somewhere just beyond the middle of the pontoon when the heavens opened. Rain came down in a solid sheet. The rain turned to hail, bouncing off the boards of the pontoon and stinging as it hit us. Lightning flashed nearby. Thunder rumbled. And a fierce wind stirred up waves. People were screaming and praying. As I fought to keep my balance, a large woman lost her footing and grabbed on to me. A wave slapped at the wooden planks and we went into the water together.

CHAPTER 24

CHAPTER 24

Juliet, Venice, July 23, 1939

The water was surprisingly cold and took my breath away. The woman was still grabbing on to me, and we were pulled under. I fought my way to the surface, gulping to take a breath as rain and waves buffeted my face. I tasted salt and gagged. The woman was clinging on to me, arms wrapped around my neck.

“Help me. I can’t swim,” she shouted as she lashed out, then clung to me again.