Chapter 4
I was clinging to his shoulder. I would slip in and out of unconsciousness and it was utter bliss. I was in touch with reality, yet I was still sleeping. A dark, profound oblivion would alternate with spells of awareness, when I felt elated, strong and lazy. The room was already full of light, the time was probably on the late side, but all I wanted to do was to remain here, snugged up to Francesco.
Suddenly a thought struck me. I opened my eyes wide. Immediately I felt Francesco’s hand coming over my face, forcing my eyelids down. He didn’t even see my face. I smiled - no one had ever felt me as well as he did.
‘All I wanted to say was don’t you need to go to work? Don’t you start at five?’
‘Not today,’ he said. ‘I took a later shift.’
‘Why?’
‘Guess,’ he chuckled.
I cuddled up to him.
‘Uh-huh,’ he murmured. ‘I need to wake up soon, anyway, but you have to promise me something.’
‘What?’
‘That you’ll show up every now and then. Don’t force me to call off my shift early again.’
‘And did you… Oh, God! I didn’t want to be in your way, not that I didn’t want to see you. I’m imposing too much as it is.’
‘If I thought you were,’ he said ‘why would I show you the board with rotas?’
‘Francesco, I’m so happy!’
‘Here!’ he exclaimed raising his head. ‘You see! I told you! Never make rash decisions again.’
‘I never do! It was Calle de la Malvasia.’
‘I know,’ he said, kissing my head. ‘Okay, time to go.’
He propped himself up on an elbow, faltered for a moment and suddenly threw the blanket open and straightened up on this feet.
That was how I saw him naked for the first time. It was a feast. I savoured that uninterrupted, unhindered passage to the chiselled lines of his body. It wasn’t voyeurism on my part. His beauty had very little to do with what was happening to me. It was about us being together, us growing deeper into each other. It gave me an extra degree of closeness.
I stood up, came close and pressed his body to mine. My elated state at awakening came over me again.
‘I’ll come and see you soon,’ I whispered.
How soon? Since I’d been invited, this time in the strongest possible terms, the ‘soon’ was ten minutes after he left. I went downstairs and caught a sight of him by the elevators. He was accompanying a guest to a room. He looked in my direction and his mouth opened. His look was so eloquent, yet so subtle. It was a mixture of admiration, ecstasy and gratitude. I was overjoyed. He blew me a fleeting kiss before stepping into the lift. I then had to stand on the staircase against the wall for five minutes to calm my racing heart down and muster my wandering thoughts.
Next time I saw him in the kitchen. No one else was around for a full minute and we locked in a desperate kiss. We had to split quickly, and as I was walking away, I saw that he was not alright. He had already greeted his colleague and appeared to be back on track, yet he was staring at the table blankly, his shoulders heaving heavily.
I had to come back. I squeezed his wrist. He briefly buried his face in my shoulder and walked away. I left too, texting him, ‘Alright?’ ‘Absolutely fine. Don’t worry,’ he responded.
And that was what our life had come to. We would sleep in our single bed. It was absolutely amazing how we managed not to feel discomfort from these tight sleeping arrangements. We simply wanted to be close, and the closer we were, the more spacious it felt. I would come to see him far too often, sneaking a glance, snatching a kiss or even settling for a conversation, if we were lucky. We would go out to see Venice when Francesco had time off. We would always go out when we could. To immerse ourselves in these cosy streets, to entwine our hands watching gondolas sail past, to sit in cafés with the orange glow of the Aperol in our hands, warming up from the half-hearted Venetian winter. It felt like eternity. It had more than just a temporal quality. It felt like a world in its own right. This space was only for us; this time was on our side.
It lasted three days… Do you know that discomfort of stepping out of paradise? That acidic feeling of returning from the holiday of a lifetime to a hated job? That happened to me on day four of my relationship with Francesco.
We were resting in bed in the evening, completely naked, with my leg crossing his two and my crotch feeling his thigh. My eyes were only half open and my nose was engaged in inhaling his scent.
‘I’ve been taking liberties with shifts recently,’ he said.
‘Oh, I’m sorry,’ I blurted out, lifting my head.
‘It’s okay,’ he smiled pressing my head back to his shoulder. ‘It’s no longer your fault. I don’t seem to be able to detach myself from you.’
‘This sounds like my fault anyway.’
‘I think you’ve redeemed yourself without realising it.’
I chuckled.
‘Listen, I have to take longer shifts not to create tensions.’
‘Of course. I never expected you to sacrifice your job for me.’
‘I’ll probably do the whole thing, five to two.’
‘Is it the whole thing?’
‘Pretty much - covers morning, afternoon and night.’
I opened my eyes wide and half sat up. He bobbed his head looking at me.
‘What does five to two mean?’ I asked. ‘Five a.m. to two a.m. the following morning?’
‘Yes.’
‘If I knew you would have to kill yourself compensating for the time you’d spent with me, I would have never consented to it!’
He chuckled, trying to squeeze me in his arms. I resisted.
‘I thought you had flexible working hours!’ I exclaimed.
‘And I do. I just want to make sure that people who have worked in my place are now given a bit of time for themselves. Don’t worry about it. We’ve had a wonderful time together and I regret nothing. I couldn’t. One longer shift won’t kill me at all. I’ve worked twenty-four hours in the past.’
That night was so precious. I felt like I was letting Francesco go to war. I thought I was clinging to him tighter than usual.
In the morning, when he was already up and dressed, looking down at me, I sighed and said, ‘Twenty-one hours! Countdown begins.’
‘But I don’t need to wait that long to see you, right?’ he said winking, covering his head with his cap in a gesture only he could make as gracious as it was. I absolutely adored the sight of him getting dressed. Could not get enough of it. I nodded with a smile and he stepped out.
I could have gone to the staff breakfast with him, but he didn’t invite me, and it didn’t feel right to ask him. I wanted to give him a bit of space, now that he had to work this ridiculously long shift because of his affair with me. I thought I was going to get up and do something, perhaps out of solidarity with Francesco, but embarrassingly I fell asleep again.
I was woken up by the daylight. I looked through our skylight. The day was sunny and I was attracted outside. I took my jacket and decided to go downstairs to the main entrance. I would sometimes make this journey. In fact, the front entrance was as far as I had ventured until now on my own. We would always go out together.
I was already missing Francesco quite badly and I decided to catch a glimpse of him on my way. I went to the board and saw that he was on the floors, which was the worst if you wanted to find him. I took the stairs and entered each floor to check for any sign of him. I didn’t see him, but it was a long shot, I realised. When I was on the ground floor, I went outside, as I had intended.
The day was crisp and bright. I thought we’d finally hit sub-zero temperatures, but it actually felt more comfortable to the skin than the humid windy weather we’d had so far.
‘Hello, Tiziano!’ I heard from the canal.
‘Hi, Gio! Great to see you,’ I responded.
Gio was on his barge. He did deliveries for the hotel. His barge had a noisy engine, which he didn’t bother to switch off when he was offloading.
‘Francesco has been looking so happy recently,’ Gio said. ‘Such a contrast. Whatever you’re doing to him, keep on doing.’
I chuckled, but then something occurred to me.
‘Gio, why is it such a contrast? Is he usually down?’
‘I’m sure it’s not usual. But he came to us not in the best shape. Since he met you, he’s been full of life.’
‘I’m very happy I’ve had such an effect on him.’
I turned round and walked back into the hotel, without throwing a glance at Venice. I had the urge to see Francesco. Sure, he had told me about the state of utter devastation his father’s death had left him in, but I had no idea it continued to affect him so much to this day.
This time I was determined to find him on the floors. I went straight for the staircase and swiftly made it to the first floor… second… running to the third… Just as I entered it, I caught a glimpse of a uniform entering the lift. I was too late to see who it was before the doors shut, but I ran downstairs on the off-chance that it could be him. On the first floor I heard the doors of the lift open. It had to be one of the staff. A guest wouldn’t travel from the third floor to the first. I rushed to the entrance and… froze as soon as I stepped on the floorboards.
It was not one, but two men in uniform, and one of them was definitely Francesco. The second one was Dominique and they were standing close together. Dominique was leaning against the wall. Francesco had the palm of his hand flat on the wall, supporting his weight on his outstretched arm. His face was very close to Dominique’s. They both had slight smiles on their faces and Dominique’s mouth was open. Their looks were intense and firmly fixed on each other. Francesco’s other hand was not doing much, just hanging down his body, but it didn’t have to do more than that. Hormones were in the air and I didn’t need any further proof. I could hear Francesco was saying something, but I couldn’t catch a single word, probably because my heartbeat was too loud, booming in my ears. I had no time to remove myself from the scene quietly. They were too close to me.
Francesco turned his head and I expected to see if not shock, then at least annoyance on his face. I saw neither. His face brightened up. That sly, randy look was wiped off in a moment, and he looked at me with the expression of outmost tenderness. That confused me.
‘Ralf!’ he exclaimed walking towards me. ‘You came at the right time…’
That made me open my mouth. For a moment I thought he was mocking me.
‘…I was planning to take a break.’
I heaved a sigh of relief. At least things started to make sense.
‘Great,’ I blurted out. ‘I’ll join you.’
Francesco wrapped his arm around my shoulder and prompted me towards the staircase. I wallowed in the sensation of being led by him. I was still profoundly disturbed, but the bliss that came over me made me shut my eyes momentarily. I was in a mess and barely understood what was happening. Even less could I judge the consequences, but my feelings reigned supreme and were clear to me. I was happy to be with Francesco again and feel the weight of his hand on my shoulder.
He took me to the kitchen and motioned towards the coffee machine.
‘Get the coffee. I’ll cut us some cheese.’
I poured two cups.
‘So, what have you been up to?’ he asked when we sat down.
‘Not much,’ I drawled. ‘I ought to start doing something. I need to start working.’
‘That would be a wonderful idea. But it hasn’t been that long since…’
I looked at him and he choked.
‘I think you shouldn’t feel uneasy about not dong much. You’re still recovering. Gaze over the roofs of Venice! It can be a prep for your future projects.’
I chuckled, looking at him.
‘You’re right. I won’t be able to get the roofs of Venice out of my head… ever. I will have to do something about it.’
It was weird that we were talking as though nothing at all had happened. And maybe, indeed, nothing had happened. Francesco was attracted to someone. So what? Did I really think that my intrusion into his life would make him forget everything and everybody else? Should I even worry about it? Did it mean that what was going on between us should end? No. No. And I felt strongly about it. I didn’t even know what exactly was going on between us, but I knew I would not give it up for the world. Francesco didn’t belong to me, and in my position it would be extremely selfish to behave as though he did, after all he had done for me, compromising his peace and comfort.
I smiled at him, bringing a slice of Manchego to my lips.
‘I love to see you eating cheese. I love to see your enjoyment.’
He leaned over the table and brought his lips to mine. I placed my slice of cheese in his mouth and bit at the other end of it. Our lips met and the bitter-sweet taste filled our mouth. I gently gripped his lips. They responded.
‘I love it with coffee,’ I whispered.
‘You got it. I’ll make sure to kiss you over every cup of coffee you have from now on,’ he said.
We laughed and pressed our foreheads against each other.
‘I’ll also make sure,’ he said standing up, ‘that I have a slice of Manchego in my pocket for my little mouse.’
‘Not necessary for a perfect coffee moment,’ I smiled, looking into his eyes.
‘I’ll see you soon,’ he said before standing up and walking away.
Okay, nothing has happened, I thought, leaning against the backrest.
I felt quite inspired. I went to the office with the staff board, knowing they had paper and pens there. I actually wanted a pencil, but couldn’t find one. I then ran up the stairs on wings of excitement and swished into our room.
I grabbed a magazine to support the paper, moved the table towards the bed and sat on it facing the skylight. I opened it and took a moment absorbing the shades of the roof tiles. Then I started frantically jotting them down on the piece of paper. I soon forgot I was drawing with a pen. Shapes and shades started to emerge under my hand. Then they were springing into life, they were coming into motion, they were making me restless. Tiled roofs in unsettled weather had my unsettled soul. The sun was bright and determined to squeeze through the thick shroud of cloud, but the clouds were dark and menacing. Their struggle was apparent and my roofs were hostages to that. I was drawing in a stream of unconsciousness and when I came round I could not believe the result. I couldn’t believe my hand had just done it. It looked divine, even if I said so myself.
I was so excited, I couldn’t control my breath. I couldn’t stay in the room for a moment. I had to go and show it to Francesco. Here, I’ve done it! I wanted to shout to him. I felt like a schoolboy who had solved an equation and wanted praise from his favourite teacher.
I ran out of the room with my drawing. I ran through the floors again. I had no luck. Then I realised that Francesco’s shift might have changed. He had been on the floors for a while. I went to the office and saw that I was right, and he was now at the main entrance.
I went all the way down and saw Francesco as soon as I entered the lobby. He was with a guest. I wanted to leave straight away and come a bit later, after he had taken the guest to his room, but something made me delay. I looked at the guest. It was a fine young man, evidently rich, judging by his attire, and dressed in a flamboyant way. Using common stereotypes, to which I was also a subscriber, I could say he was either gay or in show business. Maybe both. It took me a moment to understand that he was making advances at Francesco. It took me two to realise that Francesco was flattered and very keen.
‘That uniform… Oh, don’t get me going,’ the guest said rolling his eyes. ‘If you know anything about diamonds, you’ll appreciate that it’s the frame that brings out their value.’
‘If you really knew diamonds, you would appreciate them raw,’ Francesco answered and I opened my mouth.
They were about to step into the lift, but I didn’t wait for that. I turned round and frankly I ran, crumpling my drawing up into a ball. I sprinted up the staircase and right into the room. I slumped on the bed, face down. My crumpled drawing was still in my fist.
I could not calm the storm in my head for a while. I was panicking, thinking that this encounter could lead me back to the canal. I was not afraid to die. I was afraid of what I would have to go through before I died, and it was driving me mad.
I managed to muster my thoughts and sat up, leaning against the wall. I looked at the ball of dishevelled paper and threw it into the corner. It was very difficult to make my mind go over what I had just seen and heard. I couldn’t believe the conversation. They had met each other like two minutes before! I was physically unable to think about what was going on in that room now. One thing was abundantly clear.
The boy was a slut.
I passed my hand over my face and looked up into the sky. The sky was clear now. The light was bright and unobstructed, and had I attempted to draw now, I would not have achieved such a perfect result.
I looked into the corner where I had thrown my drawing. I wanted to recover it, but couldn’t leave the bed. I was completely exhausted. I shut my eyes and listened to my inner self. To my heartbeat, to my breathing…
I didn’t know Francesco. I had no standing in Francesco’s life. I could certainly judge him, but I couldn’t demand anything from him. The guy he was fucking now downstairs was a complete snob. He saw nothing but a uniform in Francesco. He was using him now like room service and Francesco was totally content with it. Was he also going to be paid like a prostitute? No, no… My poor mind refused to process it. I’d rather think he was not. Francesco certainly knew how to answer, and I smiled with pride when I remembered his quip about raw diamonds.
I drifted off and when I came round I was cuddling the pillow. I squeezed my arms tighter around it and was overcome with the throbbing feeling of loneliness. I was missing the bastard so much. What could I do? I just had to have him in my life… on any condition. It occurred to me I had been there before. What was I signing myself up for? A few months of loneliness and another abrupt end. Another drama I had no health to go through? A certain end this time? I had no choice. I just hoped we could navigate through the debris this time. I hoped I could be spared. I hoped he wouldn’t let go of me.
Then I slept again. My sleep became feverish. I was sweating a lot, at one time even gasping for air. I was out in the nothingness when I felt his trembling body next to me. He was clinging to me and squeezing me, and my lips were reaching for him. I was kissing him through the clothes, then kissing his skin…
I opened my eyes. His face was in front of mine.
‘Alright?’ he asked frowning, passing his hand over my head.
‘What about you? Is it the end of your shift?’
He nodded.
‘You must be exhausted.’
‘No, I took breaks…’
My eyelids sank over my eyes for a moment. I’d rather not hear that.
‘But I’m happy to be here,’ he continued. ‘It’s been a long day and it feels like it.’
I knew he was telling the truth. Whatever had happened throughout this long day was now behind us. He was now next to me and he had no unfamiliar smells about him. He was my Francesco out and out, and I was grateful once again to the Gods of Venice for sending him to me to save me.