Free Venetian Masquerade by Suzanne Stokes

thought it was positively one of the happiest times of her life, except, of course, for those wonderful months with Alessandro.
    At first, she lived each day expecting him to find her. Every time the phone rang, she jumped out of her skin; every time someone rang the doorbell, she peeped fearfully from a window, expecting to find him standing on the doorstep. But there was nothing, and in truth, she didn’t know whether to be happy or disappointed. Perhaps he had decided his wife would not cope with the fact that he had a son—and for sure, his family would have strong opinions on that too—so maybe he had decided to stay away from her and James, the very opposite of what she had expected.
    But she still had to deal with telling James about his father, and the opportunity came one Saturday when James was feeling very miserable with a streaming cold and wracking cough. The builders had finished for the weekend, and Amy brought the little boy downstairs into the kitchen, where it was warm. He sat sniffing over a warm drink into which he was dipping some biscuits before sucking them noisily.
    Out of the blue, James suddenly said, “Is my papa in Heaven with Donna’s?”
    Amy felt a tremor run through her. “No, James,” she said at last. “He is still alive.”
    “Why doesn’t he live with us like a proper papa, then? Doesn’t he love us?”
    “James, if he met you, he would love you very much and be very proud of you. But he and I are not friends, and we couldn’t live together.”
    James was quiet for a few minutes. “Everyone says Donna looks like her papa… Do I look like my papa?”
    Heartbreakingly , thought Amy, tears close to the surface. “Yes, James, you look very much like him. He’s extremely good-looking and clever, just like you.”
    “Why can’t I see him? Other children in my class see their papas even though they don’t live with them.”
    “It isn’t possible at the moment, but maybe one day.”
    “Then, can I have a puppy?”
    “Oh, James—” She laughed. “Yes, you can have a puppy.”
    And so, a few days later, Snoopy, a two-month-old mongrel puppy with floppy ears, big brown eyes, and even bigger feet came to live them. James said nothing more about his father, but Amy knew that sooner or later, she would have to tell him the whole truth.

    One evening a few days later, Gabriel called in and invited Amy to a concert in a small church next to St. Mark’s Basilica. “You haven’t been out for ages, Amy, and I have a spare ticket, so come on—take a break and come and listen to some Vivaldi and Mozart.”
    “It sounds absolute heavenly, thank you. I’m sure Carmela will babysit. But I insist on taking you to dinner somewhere expensive first to say thank you for everything you’ve done for us.”
    “How expensive?”
    “Very.”
    “It’s a deal,” He grinned. “I’ll go home now to change and make myself presentable…”
    “And I’ll take a vaporetto to St. Mark’s and meet you there at say, seven?”
    “I’ll book a table at Danieli’s.” And he jumped into his boat and roared off down the canal.
    Amy spent a blissful hour soaking in a hot, deep, scented bath. She hadn’t had a chance to dress up in months, so she gave herself a manicure, grimacing at the rough hands and chipped nails which had worked so hard for so long. She swept her dark curls into an elegant topknot and made up her face carefully before slipping on a very elegant little black dress, which showed off her figure to perfection. Gold sandals completed her outfit. Pleased, she twirled in front of a mirror.
    “You look pretty, Mama.”
    “Thank you, James. It’s nice to dress up for once.”
    “Are you going out with Gabriel?”
    “Yes, darling—we’re having dinner and going to a concert.”
    “If you married Gabriel, would he be like my papa?”
    “James, I won’t be marrying Gabriel. He’s our friend and we all love him, but no, he won’t be like your papa. But he is like an uncle,