The Undrowned Child (45 page)

Finally, deepest thanks, as ever, to all the Clink Street writers, who welcomed The Undrowned Child from the start.

About the Author

MICHELLE LOVRIC has always lived a waterbound life. She was born by the ocean in Sydney and lived for many years by the sea in Devon. Now she divides her time between a palazzo on the Grand Canal in Venice and a Georgian wharf on the Thames in London.

The Undrowned Child is Michelle’s first book for young people, though she has written three novels for adults and compiled over one hundred anthologies on a wide range of subjects, especially cats. She runs a poetry and fiction workshop and also writes reviews, travel features and stories … always about Venice, of course.

You can visit Michelle at michellelovric.com.

Table of Contents

This is a work of fiction. All incidents and dialogue, and all characters with the exception of some well-known historical and public figures, are products of the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Where real-life historical or public figures appear, the situations, incidents, and dialogues concerning those persons are fictional and are not intended to depict actual events or to change the fictional nature of the work. In all other respects, any resemblance to persons living or dead is entirely coincidental.

Contents

Venice in 1899

Maps

Title

The fog that fell upon Venice that evening was like a bandage wrapped round the town. First the spires of the churches disappeared. Then the palaces on the Grand Canal were pulled into the soft web of white. Soon it was impossible to see anything at all. People held their hands out in front of them and fumbled their way over bridges like blind men. Every sound was muffled, including the sighs of the steam ferries nosing through the black waters. It would be an exceedingly bad night to fall in the water, for no one would hear a cry for help.

Some fragments of anantique Venetian prophecy

June 1, 1899

at the Hotel degli Assassini, June 1, 1899

May 27, 1899

Maria was supposed to be Teo’s best friend; for this trip, anyway. But the truth was that Teo was as fond of Maria as she was of cod-liver oil.

at the hospital, the evening of June 1, 1899

around midnight, June 1, 1899

just before lunchtime, May 30, 1899

an hour before dawn, June 3, 1899

Not everyone agreed with the mayor that Venice was perfectly safe.

break of dawn, June 3, 1899

midmorning, June 3, 1899

June 4, 1899

the morning of June 5, 1899

the afternoon of June 5, 1899

dawn, June 6, 1899

after breakfast, June 6, 1899

a fiery-hot morning, June 6, 1899

an awkward breakfast, June 7, 1899

midnight, June 7, 1899

just past midnight, June 8, 1899

one o’clock in the morning, June 8, 1899

two o’clock in the morning, June 8, 1899

half past two in the morning, June 8, 1899

three o’clock in the morning, June 8, 1899

just before dawn, June 8, 1899

the first glimmerings of dawn, June 8, 1899

June 8, 1899

late at night, June 8th, 1899

in the hotel dining room, early morning, June 9, 1899

June 10, 1899

nighttime, June 10, 1899

the early hours, June 10–11, 1899

early morning, June 11, 1899

late at night, June 11, 1899

nearly midnight, June 11, 1899

midnight, June 11, 1899

all through the night of June 11–12, 1899

a quarrelsome dawn, June 12, 1899

all through the hours of darkness,June 12–June 13, 1899

the morning of June 13, 1899

nighttime, June 13, 1899

the morning of June 14, 1899

the heart of the day, June 14, 1899

in the heat of the afternoon, June 14, 1899

the afternoon draws on, June 14, 1899

late afternoon, dusk and night, June 14, 1899

a hot, misty dawn, June 15, 1899

not the morning that was hoped for, June 15, 1899

a moment of optimism, June 15, 1899

beneath the waves of the Grand Canal, June 15, 1899

the countdown, June 15, 1899

midday, June 15, 1899

the rest of the day, June 15, 1899

dawn, June 16, 1899

a splendid morning, June 16, 1899

a beautiful afternoon, June 17, 1899

an amicable breakfast, June 18, 1899

Places and things inTHE UNDROWNED CHILDthat you can still see in Venice

Acknowledgments

About the Author