Sestiere di Dorsoduro, Venezia Ermanno, Efran, Tanina and Tommaso watch their breath freeze in front of their faces in the thin night air as they wait for a carriage. Tommaso looks particularly cold, though Tanina suspects he's shaking as much through fear as the chill of the evening. She's relieved her friend is coming with them. Though she wishes Lydia wouldn't treat their predicament with the casual air of adventure she personally would have reserved for a short holiday in Rome.
The meal of soup, fresh fish and lamb has buoyed their spirits, and the rich red and white wines have dulled the aching anxiety in their heads.
The carriage Lydia ordered arrives and takes them quickly to a mooring at L'Accademia. The building, completed only a few years earlier, stands softly illuminated, and shadowy shapes can be seen floating among the fine art.
The streets are crammed with crocodiles of courtesans, flirting and mingling with masked party-goers. Efran rubs his hands together and blows out. 'God, it's cold. I can't wait for spring to come.'
Ermanno slaps his shoulder. 'Let's hope we all live to see it.'
Lydia is some distance in front of them, a long way down a pontoon bridge, heading towards a boat moored near racks of gondolas.
Tommaso stays close to Tanina. He still feels distrustful of the men, and wonders whether he should just slip away, find his boat and, under the cover of darkness, set off for a new life somewhere.
Ermanno catches them up and takes Tanina's arm. 'You told me Lydia said we would be safe at her house? If so, why are we running like dogs?'
She's annoyed by his comments. 'You are so unreasonable! Lydia has taken enormous risks on our behalf. It is not fair to expect her to harbour us.' She leans closer to him, so Tommaso does not hear: 'This is all your fault. We are paying the price of your obsession with that stupid silver tablet.'
Ermanno thinks about lecturing her on how valuable it could be, how it could have helped secure their futures, but decides that will only inflame matters.
They reach the boat and Lydia stretches out her hand for Tanina. 'Be careful getting down, there is quite a gap here.'
Tommaso notices there are two oarsmen – fore and aft. A little unnecessary, but no doubt that's the sort of thing privileged women like Lydia are accustomed to. In keeping with Carnevale, they are cloaked and wearing full masks. Tommaso imagines that, given the cutting wind across the lagoon, they will soon be grateful for the cover.
No one really speaks as they head out into the blackness of the lagoon. Tanina squeezes as close to Ermanno as she possibly can to keep warm and Lydia unashamedly does the same with Efran. Tommaso wonders about her morals. Life seems simply a game to her – an opportunity to seek out new pleasures and liaisons.
Was his mother the same?
The thought shocks him.
He supposes she must have been. An unmarried courtesan who took whatever comforts she could, whenever she could, with whomever she could.
Small lamps on navigation posts help Tommaso recognise the route the boat is taking. Eastwards out of the Canal Grande, across the choppy confluence of Canale della Giudecca and Canale di San Marco, then south down the Canale della Grazie, skirting the west side of Isola di San Giorgio Maggiore. Bitter-sweet memories of morning mass, Martins and Lauds come flooding back to him. He feels guilty as he looks away from the basilica and the monastery, the places where he spent much of his life – places he can never again set foot.
A mile further south they come to the point where Tommaso, one misty morning, saw a strange man dumping sacks overboard. Both Tanina and Lydia are visibly chilled now, their teeth chattering, the men next to them rubbing their shoulders to try to spark some warmth.
The moon is smoked by slivers of grey cloud. Black fingers of wintered trees stretch skyward from what he guesses must be an island not far away.
The place the strange man came from?
The boat noses its way towards land. A rugged shore seldom spoken of.
Lazzaretto Vecchio -
– Plague Island.