‘Sì, grazie.’
They headed out and across the road to the pub where they usually ended up on a Thursday night after two hours of Italian conversation. Victoria had always been keen on languages while Jo’s grandfather had been Italian and her mother had insisted she and her sister should learn the language, forcing the reluctant girls to do Italian alongside all their other A levels. By mutual agreement this evening Jo and Victoria decided to revert to their native language as they found themselves a free table as far from the big screen football match as possible.
‘Seriously, Prosecco or do you want something else, Vic?’
‘Actually, I rather fancy a cup of tea.’
‘Good idea. I’ll join you.’
By the time Jo returned with the teas, Victoria had dug out her iPad and was flicking through the pages of Booking.com. She looked up as Jo set the tray down.
‘Rome – I’ve been doing some research.’
‘Hold everything. I’ve got some big news about Rome.’ Jo sat down and told her friend about the week she was going to be spending over there. Victoria was predictably green with envy. However, Jo had a suggestion that soon put a smile on her friend’s face.
‘I’ve phoned the hotel and they tell me I’ve been allocated a big room with, wait for it, two queen-size beds! The hotel’s right in the middle of town, near the Spanish Steps, so it couldn’t be better. So, if you can find the time, why don’t you come over for a few days, or for the whole week? I’d love the company and that way, you get a free holiday in Rome. You’ve broken up for the summer, haven’t you?’
‘Brilliant! We actually break up next week. I’ve got Marguerite’s wedding on the Saturday – we work together – and I can’t really wriggle out of it although I would dearly like to. I’m supposed to bring a plus one, but I haven’t got one, so I’m going to be the odd one out as usual.’
Jo nodded understandingly. Victoria’s failure to hook up with a good man was beginning to get to her and beneath the cheery exterior, Jo knew Vic was far from happy with her life. Since Jo’s break up with Christian, the two girls had spent a lot of time together and Jo had been doing her best to provide, as well as receive, support. She gave her friend a broad smile.
‘Maybe you’ll find the love of your life at the wedding; they’re supposed to be good places for romance.’
‘Yeah, right. Last wedding I went to, most of the men were gay.’ Victoria didn’t look convinced, but she rallied. ‘Anyway, I could get a cheap flight to Rome on the Sunday and stay on until the end. Thank you so much, Jo. That’s fantastic!’
‘I’m booked Saturday to Saturday. I’ll email you the flights. I’m really looking forward to it.’
‘Well, it sounds as if your boss – what’s his name? – has finally done something good for a change.’
‘It’s an ill wind all right.’
Jo took a mouthful of tea and sat back, dreaming of Rome. As she did so, she had a thought.
‘While you’ve got the computer out, take a look at the hotel. It’s very close to the conference centre and it’s quite something.’
It only took Victoria a few seconds to find it.
‘Blimey, look how much rooms cost! Your charity likes the good life, doesn’t it?’
‘You’re joking, Vic. If we were paying for it, I’d be in a cheap pensione – if cheap places exist in the centre of Rome – but it was all booked and paid for by the conference organisers for Ronald as one of the guest speakers. It’s just my good luck I’m taking his place.’
Victoria read the blurb out loud and then they flicked through the photos together. It certainly looked swanky, but, as Victoria pointed out, it ought to be for the price.
‘But it does look good. And, and like you say, it’s bang in the city centre as well.’
After a bit, Jo changed the subject. ‘Anyway, let me tell you about the man I met last night.’
She saw Victoria’s eyes light up, although she couldn’t miss the tiny flash of envy lurking there. Yes, the sooner Victoria got herself fixed up with somebody, the better.
‘You met someone, Jo? And there you were, just a few days ago, telling me you weren’t on the lookout for a man.’
‘And I wasn’t. I’m still not. But I was at a drinks thing at the French Embassy – a work thing – when I bumped into this guy.’
‘The embassy, eh? What a glamorous life you lead! Did they serve those little golden chocolates like in the old adverts?’ Victoria was grinning. ‘And is this man a sexy Frenchman?’
Jo grinned back. ‘Nope, no chocolates, and he’s not French. He’s English and his name’s Markus.’
‘Sounds a bit posh.’
‘Yes, I suppose he is, but he’s very nice.’
‘And ugly?’ Victoria was grinning now.
‘Definitely not ugly, but certainly not in the Christian league.’
‘Or your Roman hunk.’
‘He’s not my Roman hunk but, no, not like him either. And, remember, Corrado is going to be my brother-in-law. Nothing’s going to happen there.’
‘And what happened with Markus?’
‘He took me to this amazing French restaurant where we had a really excellent meal, although it must have cost the earth.’
Victoria rolled her eyes. ‘Where do you find these guys? The last time I went out for a meal with a man, it was pie and chips in the pub and we split the bill. So, this Markus isn’t short of a bob or two, or did the two of you end up washing dishes in the kitchen to pay for it?’
Jo grinned and shook her head. ‘I think we can take it he’s loaded. He says he’s in finance and he’s got a chauffeur, no less. I have no idea what he does, but there isn’t any doubt that he’s got money. But that’s unimportant. The thing is, he’s a really nice guy.’
‘Who also just happens to be rich…’
‘No, really, Vic, I mean it. He looks normal. He sounds normal. He behaved normally. Whether he’s loaded or not doesn’t matter.’
Victoria eyed her sceptically. ‘Whatever you say. And how did the evening finish? Did you and he…?’
‘No, we didn’t, Vic. And why do you always assume I’m ready to jump into bed with men on the first date?’
‘All right, I believe you, although if a wealthy banker was buying me slap-up meals, I’d be all over him like a rash. So, are you seeing him again?’
‘I don’t know.’
‘Do you want to see him again?’
Jo had been pondering that question herself over the last twenty-four hours. ‘Yes, I think I do.’
‘Did you give him your number?’
Jo nodded.
‘Then you can be sure you’ll be seeing him again.’
‘Buonasera, signore. Mind if I join you?’
They both looked up and Jo saw what could have been a blush on Victoria’s face. It was George from their Italian class. She knew that Victoria liked the look of him, but, as far as Jo was aware, they had never been out on a date. Maybe this would be the opportunity to get the two of them together. She was quick to offer him a place alongside Victoria and the red spots on her friend’s cheeks deepened in intensity.
‘Of course, George, take a seat. We’ve just been talking about Rome. We’re going there in ten days’ time.’
He sat down and, as he did so, Jo checked him out. He was a good-looking man, probably around their age, maybe a bit short on self-confidence, but very pleasant. He smiled shyly at the two of them.
‘Rome sounds exciting. What’s the event? Just a holiday or what?’
Victoria was looking a bit less overcome by now, but Jo waded in again to give her friend time to regain her composure.
‘I’ve got to go over for a conference and Victoria’s coming with me as a tourist.’
‘Lucky you. I love Rome.’
‘I’ve never been.’ Jo was pleased to hear Victoria’s voice sounding almost normal. ‘And the hotel we’re booked into looks phenomenal. Here, George, see what you think.’
&
nbsp; Victoria pushed the iPad across the table and they both watched as he looked at the description of the hotel and checked some of the photos and the map. He must have seen how expensive the rooms were, but he was evidently too polite to comment.
‘Looks amazing. And it’s in a super position, too.’
‘Do you know Rome?’ Victoria reclaimed the tablet.
‘I’ve been a few times, but mainly for work. But I always try to set aside a day, or at least half a day, to see some of the sights while I’m there.’
‘That sounds like a great job, George. What is it you do?’ Jo reckoned it might help Victoria’s cause – if she really did fancy him – if they could discover a bit more about him.
He shook his head ruefully. ‘All terribly boring, I’m afraid. I work for the government.’ He smiled across at Jo. ‘Just a civil servant. Nothing exciting.’
‘James Bond was a civil servant, George. Don’t do yourself down.’
He grinned modestly. ‘Double-oh six and a quarter, at best.’
‘So, what are the places we really need to see when we’re in Rome?’ Victoria readied herself to write down what he said.
As George reeled off a list of must-see sights, starting with the Vatican Museum and the Sistine Chapel, Jo studied him a bit more closely. He was wearing a spotless white linen shirt and she was impressed. Even just ironing that would take an age. For a moment she wondered who did the ironing. Maybe there was a woman involved. Victoria would need to find that out if she was thinking about embarking on a relationship with him. He looked fit and healthy, but maybe not in the James Bond league. She glanced at Victoria and what she saw reinforced her original impression: Victoria liked George and, by the look of it, George liked Victoria. She crossed her fingers under the table and made a little wish that George might turn out to be Victoria’s Prince Charming.
‘And, of course, your hotel’s right by the Spanish Steps and only a short walk from the Villa Borghese gardens.’
‘That all sounds great, George. Thank you so much.’
They chatted about Rome and collected lots of good ideas from him. By the sound of it, he had spent quite a few odd days sightseeing and he was a mine of information, from where to eat the best pizza to where the main pickpocket hunting grounds were. Jo was unsurprised to hear that the crowds around the Trevi Fountain were one of the crime hotspots, so Corrado had been right to tell her to be careful. Once again, thought of the tall Roman brought with it a little flash of annoyance. Who needed a Corrado when there was a Markus on the scene? In fact, why did she need a man at all?
* * *
Jo went out to Oxfordshire to see her parents at the weekend. Her mum came to pick her up from the station and drove her out through the traffic to the little village where they lived. When they got home, Jo was very impressed to find her father up and walking around without a stick, only a matter of days after his hip replacement operation. She was really pleased to see them both and soon found herself sitting out in the back garden with them, relaxing in the shade of the enormous mulberry tree. As her mother poured the tea, Felix the old black and white cat appeared and jumped straight up onto Jo’s lap. She settled back to stroke him, enjoying being home again.
‘So, tell us all about Rome, Joanne.’
Jo and Angie would always be ‘Joanne’ and ‘Angela’ to their parents. Both had tried to get them to use their abbreviated names, but without success. It was just one of the facts of life.
Jo had spent a long time on the phone with her mum on Sunday night, telling her all about the engagement party in Rome, but she happily repeated her tale, adding other details as they came to mind. Predictably, her mother was more interested in Jo’s opinion of Angie’s future husband than the delicacies served up for lunch that day. Her father, equally predictably, was more interested in the estate and the Country Club.
‘So, it’s a big sort of place, then?’
‘Definitely. They’ve got a lovely hotel and restaurant, and the stables are a really big enterprise, with their own showjumping arena.’
Her father murmured in approval. From the expression on his face she could tell he was savouring the fact that one of his daughters appeared to have landed on her feet, even if their firstborn had not. Jo thought it best to steer them off the subject of weddings and went on to tell them both about her upcoming week in Rome for the conference.
‘How exciting!’ Her mother was beaming. ‘So, you’ll be addressing an international conference. You are doing well, Joanne, aren’t you?’
‘Well, technically, I’ll just be giving a talk in a side room, but, yes, it’s rather nice to be involved with something like that, especially as I wrote most of the paper anyway.’
‘And will you have free time for some sightseeing?’
‘I’ll make sure I do. And Victoria’s coming over for a few days as well.’
‘How nice. How is she? Has she got herself a young man yet?’
Jo shook her head and braced herself for what she knew to be coming next. She wasn’t mistaken.
‘Well, I’m sure she’ll find somebody. And what about you, Joanne? Have you found yourself somebody to replace that awful Christian?’
Jo shook her head. ‘No, mum.’ There then ensued a pregnant silence before Jo finally gave in. ‘But I did go out for dinner with a very nice man the other night.’
As expected, she saw her mother’s eyes light up. ‘Really? Oh good. And what sort of man is this one? Not another model, I hope.’ The note of disapproval in her voice was unmistakable. She had always mistrusted Christian and, of course, events had proved her right.
‘No, he works in the city. Something to do with finance. And, before you ask, mum, he’s just a normal guy.’
A look of considerable satisfaction spread across her mother’s face. However, her next question had Jo on the ropes once again.
‘Angela told me her future brother-in-law’s awfully good-looking. She says you and he went out for dinner last Saturday. Is that so?’
Jo suppressed a snort. ‘Yes, he’s a handsome man, but then, so is Mario. And no, I didn’t have dinner with him. He just gave me a lift back into the centre of Rome.’ She saw no need to mention the drink in Piazza Navona or their little walking tour afterwards.
‘That’s good. Angela says he’s a bit of a Don Juan.’
This came as no great surprise to Jo, but she had always resented her mother’s interference in her affairs, so she chose to play it down.
‘How he spends his time is of no interest to me, mum. He just gave me a lift into town and he behaved himself perfectly. He’s a scientist like me and we talked about science. You don’t need to worry about me and him getting together.’
‘That’s good to hear. I’ve always thought handsome men were more trouble than they’re worth.’
Jo waited for her mother to make reference to how badly Christian had behaved and how she had been right all along about him. However, to Jo’s relief, she must have thought better of it and said nothing. After a short pause, Jo decided to change the subject.
‘I was thinking about going for a ride this afternoon. Mum, do you feel like coming with me?’
‘I haven’t been to the stables for months. But, yes, now I come to think of it, I’d rather like a short ride. It is a beautiful day, after all.’
Jo heaved a sigh of relief. This would give her a chance to do a bit of bonding and reassure her mother that her little girl was doing fine and still loved her. As she did so, she felt her phone vibrate in her pocket and pulled it out. It was a text message from Markus.
Hi Jo. Feel like dinner on Tuesday? New floating restaurant on Thames. Interested? Really hope so. Markus.
She glanced across at her mother. ‘It’s a text from Markus, the man I told you about. He’s asking me out for dinner on Monday.’
‘That’s nice. Are you going to say yes?’
Jo paused for thought, but only for a few seconds.
‘Yes, I think I am.’
> * * *
Dinner on Tuesday turned out to be a bit more than she had bargained for.
Markus picked her up from London Bridge station in his chauffeur-driven Mercedes, although it would have been little more than a ten-minute walk to the floating restaurant moored just the other side of Tower Bridge. The restaurant had been created inside an old barge and Markus clearly knew the owner well. They were greeted with open arms and accompanied to their table by the man himself, who then returned with champagne cocktails while they decided what to eat. Jo looked around at the ostentatiously stylish surroundings then picked up her glass and clinked it against his.
‘Thank you for this, Markus. What a super place!’ A bit too much bling for her taste, but she didn’t want to sound rude or ungrateful.
‘I’m so glad you like it. I’ve only been here a few times – it’s very new, you see – and I’ve always eaten well.’ He took a sip of his cocktail and smiled across the table at her. ‘You’re looking stunning tonight, Jo, if you don’t mind me saying so.’
She smiled back. ‘Pay me as many compliments as you like, Markus. And you’re looking very smart yourself.’
As she spoke, she realised ‘smart’ was the operative word. Christian would probably have turned up in faded jeans with strategic tears at the knees, and a soft cotton shirt deliberately unbuttoned to below the ribcage. And he would have looked as if he had just stepped out of a perfume commercial and knew it. Markus, on the other hand, was impeccably turned out in a light grey summer suit and a pink shirt with an expensive logo on the left breast. Somehow, Jo got the impression he would have been more comfortable wearing a tie but, in accordance with current fashion trends, he had decided to abandon it in favour of an open collar, but with just the top button undone. No, he wasn’t classically handsome, but he had style, even if it was maybe a bit too old school and a bit too rich for Jo’s taste. Still, he was charming and friendly and she was happy to be there with him.
They both ordered mussels as a starter and she opted for just a salad to follow, while Markus chose turbot. They drank Chablis Grand Cru and Jo had few illusions as to what that might cost in a place like this. They chatted about everything from the matches at Wimbledon the previous day to his recent trip to the Caribbean, and she gradually got to learn more about him. He worked, as she had imagined, in the heart of the City, and his job involved travelling all over the world. By the sound if it, this was usually done in a private aircraft and he inevitably stayed at only the very best hotels.
Dreaming of Rome Page 4