Posted on Friday, 13 March 2015

We were taxiing for take-off at Marco Polo Airport. The Italian morning sun caused my beautiful wife to wince as she flipped through the in-flight magazine. My attention was grabbed by a list on the verso: Five Things Couples Argue Most About. I scanned the list very carefully. I have to say each one was strikingly familiar. My Darling looked up suddenly. I thought this Top 5 might set her off again. But we exchanged knowing smiles. Phew. Darling. I say Darling, but I hadn't been addressing her as such at the start of our getaway to Venice.

1. Children

There were plenty of triggers in San Marco Square. Kids everywhere, chasing pigeons, screaming for ice-cream, annoying their parents; annoying their parents! Two boys and one girl, she wants, she even has names for them. The names are wonderful – it's just the number of desired progeny that worries me. I'm more inclined towards a more modest 'zero'. I didn't bite, however, and I have to say any tension evaporated as I scanned the gracious St Mark's basilica (Basilica di San Marco), "considered a living testimony of Venice's Byzantium links," – as my guide says.

The Piazzetta San Marco, Venice, Italy (g215/Bigstock.com)

Basilica Di San Marco, Venice, Italy

Wonderful. And so was the Doge's Palace, "once the city's political and judicial centre". And no amount of fawning over other tourists' offspring could spoil my mood as I calmly surveyed the majesty of the Torre dell'Orologio, a clock tower built at the turn of the 15th and 16th centuries.

Museum Ducale and Bell Tower, Venice, Italy

Torre dell'Orologio, Venice, Italy

2. Career

On the gondola she exploded, causing us to wobble worryingly and sending the otherwise languorous gondolier's moustache all-of-a-twitch. I wouldn't mind so much, but there were four Russians on board too – mum, dad, and yes, two preposterously loud (and cute, apparently) kids. We'd met them at the waterside and arranged to split the (80 euro!) cost. She'd gone off because I was on about the job in Reading. Better salary but more work. Better salary to her means more money for Henry, Ben and Daisy. But more work for me means less time; less time for H, B and D – wherever they might be. The red-faced Russians directed their squabbling kids' attention to the glorious architecture that surrounded the Grand Canal, where I directed my own, or tried to.

3. Money

Back on dry cobbles. The Russians seemed to think that the 80 euros should be split 50-50, while my One True Love erred towards 26 euros and 40 cents. Erred very much. But I was purse keeper. The somnolent gondolier shrugged unhelpfully as I hoped my Darling would not see me slip the 40 euros into the Venetian's hands (forcefully, as if I had in fact delivered 33.3 per cent of the fee). This was all under the rigid gaze of the waiting Russians. But the blues of the two 20 euro notes were like beacons. She turned her back and stomped off. I knew where, though: we had both taken a long time creating that schedule. It only took me two hours to find her in the Scuola Grande di San Rocco. I whispered into her ear: “We wouldn't have these problems if I took the job in Reading.” That was enough for her. She left me staring up at Tintoretto's epic masterpiece 'Crucifixion'. Yes indeed.

Scuola Grande Di San Rocco, Venice, Italy (StockPhoto30/Bigstock.com)

4. Housework

I thought I might have found her gazing at Titian's glorious 'Assumption' positioned above the high altar at I Frari (she'd just finished an Art History course on the Open University and simply adored Titian), but I couldn't see her anywhere. I was quite furious.

I found her back in our plush hotel room which overlooked the Grand Canal, taking her afternoon nap (scheduled, as I then recalled) on the big comfy bed. Ordinarily, I might find it a fetching sight – my pretty wife dozing with the gondolas bobbing on the twinkling medieval waterway outside. But the handsome uniformed Italian who was refilling the mini bar quite ruined the scene – for me at least. He stiffened at my arrival and I ‘ahemed', leaving the door conspicuously open. He bowed slightly before pushing his housekeeping trolley back into the hall. He did not pause for a tip.

Grand Canal, Venice, Italy

5. Sex

She didn't know what all the fuss was about: I liked the mini bar to be fully stocked, she pointed out, and she didn't like it when there weren't any Maltesers in the room: what was the problem? Please Clean My Room, said the green sign, but I suggested, quite cleverly I thought, a more scandalous entreaty to the pretty room boy: She laughed loudly at this, at my irrational jealousies, with her bright smile washing away our irascible day. The seagulls outside heralded our suddenly improved relations and we embraced, the breeze ruffling the sheer curtains through which a scene from 500 years ago could be glimpsed. I went over to the mini bar and returned to my reclining Darling with a half bottle of Champagne and a packet of Maltesers. 

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