Feeling she should show off a bit in return, she told him about her upcoming trip to Rome and asked if he knew the conference centre by the Spanish Steps. He confirmed that he did and that it was a modern conversion of an old building and that it wasn’t too enormous. This came as good news to Jo, who had been fretting about finding herself standing up in front of hundreds of people. He asked her what she would be doing there and expressed a surprising degree of interest in their proposals to deal with plastic waste although, somehow, she got the feeling this interest might be more for her benefit than for the state of the oceans. Nevertheless, it was a pleasant evening, although one thing gradually emerged more and more clearly as the night progressed.
She didn’t see the relationship developing.
This, she told herself as she took her time over her ‘summer pudding with green tea ice cream and blackcurrant jus’, wasn’t because of his physical appearance. It was the abyss that clearly existed between him, with his chauffeur, his private plane and his obvious propensity for spending money, and ordinary Joanne Green from Woodstock, with her little flat in south London and her sum total of only two ‘smart’ dresses. She didn’t fit in his world and she knew she never would. And if she was honest with herself she knew she didn’t even want to. Maybe it was because of her interest in the planet and the knowledge of just how much damage humans were doing to it with their cars, planes and extravagant waste, but it was also the realisation deep down that she’d never feel comfortable as a kept woman or a trophy wife. Christian, for all his faults, had never flashed his money around and that had kept things far simpler between them. With Markus it would be very different and she knew she didn’t want that.
Nevertheless, by the time they left, she had had a very pleasant evening.
The unpleasant bit followed shortly after.
He insisted on taking her to a wine bar in Chelsea for a nightcap, although she knew she had already drunk quite enough, considering she had a very full day at work the next day. However, as the comfortable limousine made its near silent way through the streets of the capital, Jo felt his arm stretch out behind her back and encircle her shoulders, pulling her gently towards him. She didn’t mind too much and she made no comment, not least as the chauffeur was only a few feet in front of her to act as a chaperone. She felt lips against her neck and she pretended he had tickled her, still trying to keep things low key. However, when she felt his hand land on her knee and begin to slide slowly but unequivocally upwards, she turned to face him.
‘If you don’t mind, Markus, I don’t think I’m ready for anything like this. I’d rather you removed your hand from my leg.’
She looked him square in the eye and saw the reflections of the streetlights of Blackfriars’ Bridge flick across his enlarged pupils as he stared unblinkingly down at her. Gone was the charming, friendly expression. This was now replaced by something much more visceral and primitive. His hand on her leg stopped moving, but he didn’t remove it or his arm from her shoulder.
‘Don’t you like me, Jo?’
His voice was husky and she had a horrible feeling she knew what that signified. Getting into the car with him had been a mistake, chauffeur or no chauffeur. She decided to try diplomacy first and, if that didn’t work, she would scream the place down.
‘You know I do, Markus. I’ve had a lovely evening, but it’s just that I want to get to know you better before we try to take things to the next level.’ She kept her eyes trained on his. ‘You do understand, don’t you?’
There was a long pause, by which time they had crossed the Thames and the driver was turning west. Finally, to her considerable relief, she saw him relax and she felt him remove his grip on her. When he responded, his voice had returned to normal and his expression was once more affable.
‘Of course I understand, Jo. You need time. That’s quite all right with me.’
She heaved a surreptitious sigh of relief and slid a few inches further away from him. As she did so, she reflected that there was no doubt a certain kind of dinner companion who would have been only too pleased to thank her date in the way he was clearly expecting. But that wasn’t going to be her tonight, or any night. She could feel her heart beating fast as she began to recover from what had been an unexpectedly scary moment. The feel of his eyes upon her, studying her like a piece of meat, had been every bit as unsettling as his touch.
She looked out of the window and concentrated her attention on the Thames alongside them until the car came to a halt in traffic. As it did so, her eyes landed on the London Underground sign announcing the entrance to Embankment underground station right beside them.
She didn’t hesitate. She reached for the door handle and pulled it, relieved to find it wasn’t locked. The door opened, and as she stepped out, she looked back over her shoulder at him. He was still sitting there, no doubt taken by surprise by her actions.
‘Thank you for the lovely dinner, Markus. I’m afraid I need to go home. Goodnight.’
‘Jo…?’
Ignoring his plaintive protest, she slammed the door behind her and disappeared into the crowds. Her overwhelming sensation was one of relief, closely followed by anger.
Chapter 4
The plane touched down in Rome in the early afternoon and the train whisked her into Roma Termini station in barely half an hour. It was almost exactly three o’clock when she walked out through the monumental glass-fronted lobby into the suffocating mid-July heat. She set off across to the car park on the right to look for Angie or Mario who had promised to pick her up. To her surprise, as she got there, she heard a man’s voice and saw a tall figure coming towards her.
‘Hi, Jo. Welcome back. I’m in the Kiss-and-Ride car park so I couldn’t leave the car and come and look for you.’ He stopped in front of her. ‘Here, let me take your bag.’
‘Hi, Corrado. This is very kind of you, but don’t worry about the suitcase. It’s got wheels. I’m sorry to trouble you; I was expecting to see Angie or Mario.’
As she spoke, she was unable to hide her pleasure at seeing him again. He must have heard it in her voice, but he made no comment.
‘No problem. They’ve got a show jumping event out at the Country Club today and both of them are up to their eyes.’ In spite of her protests he took the suitcase from her hands and picked it up easily. He weighed it in his hand, glanced across at her and smiled. ‘You’re travelling light, I see.’
Jo was delighted to hear him speaking more freely, without any of the reluctance she had sensed two weeks earlier.
‘Not really. I normally just bring cabin baggage, but I had to put in some smart clothes for the conference, so it meant a suitcase.’
‘Still, it doesn’t feel as if there’s a lot in here. That’s impressive, seeing as you’re here for a week.’
‘I’m not one of those girls who’s that bothered about clothes, to be honest.’
He caught her eye again. ‘With a face like yours, you don’t need to worry about what you wear.’
No sooner had he uttered the words than he turned away hurriedly, but not before Jo had spotted an expression of regret on his face. What on earth?
She had no time for further reflection as she was presented with another surprise. He led her across to his battered old Fiat, but the strange thing about it was that the vehicle was rocking from side to side. As she approached, she realised what was causing this. Daisy the dog was in the boot, jumping about excitedly as she recognised her master.
He reached down and opened the tailgate. As he did so, Daisy came leaping out, tail wagging furiously, and to Jo’s further surprise, ignored Corrado and came charging up to her and almost knocked her over, such was her delight to see her friend again.
‘Daisy, get off!’ Corrado made a grab for her collar with his free hand as she went past, but Jo waved his hand away and crouched down to greet the Labrador.
‘Ciao, Daisy. And it’s good to see you, too.’ She hugged the big dog to her before standing back up again. Co
rrado was looking apologetic.
‘Sorry, Jo. She’s obviously very pleased to see you.’
Jo grinned at him. ‘And I’m pleased to see her too… and you, Corrado.’
And she was. Not, she told herself firmly, that she thought of him as anything other than a future relative and a good friend. What had happened the other night with Markus had brought home to her just how right she had been when she had told Victoria and her mum she wasn’t interested in another man. Drop-dead gorgeous or not, stinking rich or not, none of them could be trusted. She reached down and ruffled the dog’s ears. Maybe what she needed was a dog.
Unaware of Jo’s reflections, Corrado lifted her case into the boot and then called the dog. As soon as Daisy had jumped back into the car, he closed the boot once more and waved Jo into the passenger seat. She got in and did her best to dissuade the excited dog from licking her neck as Corrado started the engine and headed for the exit.
‘What did you call this car park, Corrado?’
‘It’s the Kiss-and-ride car park. You aren’t allowed to leave your vehicle. It’s just for setting down and picking up again.’
Then she surprised herself. Totally ignoring the warnings being screamed at her by her subconscious, she found herself leaning towards him.
‘Lean over this way a bit, would you? We haven’t said hello properly.’
As he slowed the car and did as instructed, she kissed him softly on the cheek, repeating to herself that this was simply a friendly kiss between one friend and another. Even so, the touch of his skin against her lips felt good, worryingly good, and she found herself wishing she had limited herself to a simple handshake. From the uncomfortable expression on his face, it looked very much as if he also wished it had been a simple handshake.
As they drove out through the barrier, he made a suggestion.
‘The show jumping finishes at four and Mario says it’ll all be done and dusted by six at the latest. If you like, I could take you to your hotel, wait while you check in and dump your stuff. You can freshen up and change or whatever, and then I could give you a whistle-stop tour of Rome in the car before we head out to the Country Club.’
‘That sounds wonderful. Thank you so much.’
It took barely five minutes to get from the station to the hotel. Although the Saturday afternoon traffic was particularly heavy and the numbers of tourists on the streets had, if anything, increased since the last time she had been here, the little car managed to squeeze past the worst of it until they came to a halt not far from the top of the famous Spanish Steps.
‘The daytime traffic exclusion zone starts here, so I’ll have to leave the car and walk you to your hotel. It’s only three or four minutes.’ Corrado was double-parked but he didn’t appear to notice as, ignoring her protests, he picked up her suitcase and, together with the Labrador, they walked the last few hundred metres. As they got there, a uniformed porter came out to collect her suitcase and Corrado and Daisy returned to the car in case a traffic warden came along. Jo walked into the blissfully cool marble-clad lobby and across to the reception desk. A friendly-looking girl in her twenties was waiting to greet her.
‘Buongiorno. Ben arrivata a Roma.’
Jo mustered her best Italian and replied, although she felt pretty sure the girl must speak fluent English in a place like this, giving her name and saying she had a reservation. The check-in formalities were swiftly concluded and the porter took Jo up in the swish modern lift to the top floor. Her room was mightily impressive, about the same floor size as her whole flat in London, and it even had a charming little terrace looking out over the roofs of the city. It was absolutely delightful. Dragging her attention away from the view, Jo turned to reach for her bag to give the porter a tip, but he had already set her suitcase down on a wooden stand and was at the door. Before she could do more than murmur, ‘Grazie’, he gave her a smile and a little bow and let himself out, closing the door silently behind him.
Jo wasted no time. She changed out of her jeans into a light summer dress and sandals and was back at the car in less than ten minutes. She found Corrado leaning against the front wing, deep in conversation with a remarkably pretty policewoman wearing the trademark Roman police white helmet, not dissimilar to a London bobby, apart from the pistol at her hip. It was immediately clear that she hadn’t stopped to give Corrado a parking ticket. From the smile on her face as she gave him a little salute and walked off, their conversation had been anything but confrontational. Jo shook her head in disbelief and gave him a broad grin.
‘You men… So, you just turn on the charm and they let you get away with murder?’
He grinned back. ‘And you women don’t do the same thing? Anyway, if you’re nice to them, they’re normally nice to you. Besides, she’s very pretty and I told her so.’
‘And she didn’t clap the handcuffs on you for disrespect?’
His grin broadened. ‘The handcuffs come later, if you’re into that sort of thing.’ Then, as if regretting his moment of levity, he opened the door and climbed back into the car. Jo followed suit.
‘So, Corrado, where to?’
‘I’ve been thinking about that. The best way to see the centre of Rome is on foot, like we did last time you were here. But seeing as we’ve got the car, I was wondering if you fancied taking a little trip along the Appian Way.’
Jo, like most people, had heard of this famous Roman road, but she wasn’t too sure where it led. Corrado was happy to fill in the blanks.
‘You know the old saying about all roads leading to Rome? In fact, it was the other way round – they were leading out. The majority were built several centuries before Christ, designed partly to facilitate trade but, above all, to make it fast and easy to move troops towards points of conflict.’ While speaking, he started the engine and set off along the road. As he passed the policewoman, he waved to her out of the window and received a broad smile in return. Jo shook her head in mock despair.
‘If you can tear yourself away from consorting with the Roman constabulary, you were going to tell me about the Appian Way.’
He glanced across at her and grinned. ‘Yes, of course. Well, it’s the most important road out of Rome because it led south towards the ports of Naples and, in particular, Brindisi on the east coast of Italy, and from there galleys went to all the Roman provinces around the Mediterranean. Anyway, the really interesting thing about the Appia Antica, as we call it now, is that it’s been conserved in its original state for quite a bit of its length, right here in Rome.’
‘You’re not going to tell me we can drive along it?’
He nodded. ‘I certainly am. It gets rougher and rougher and narrower and narrower until it becomes a cycle track and footpath, but we can certainly drive out of town on it for a bit if you like. And all the way along it you’ll see ancient Roman ruins popping up all over the place.’
‘That sounds terrific.’
What was even more terrific was the route he took to get there. They slowly made their way down the hill through the traffic past the imposing bulk of the Quirinale Palace and off to the left. Corrado was quick to explain where they were.
‘Just over to the right of us are the Fori Imperiali, the very heart of the ancient city. I really recommend you come back here on foot one day and check the Forum area out. It’s a mass of ancient Roman ruins as far as the eye can see. As for where we are’ – he pointed straight ahead – ‘I daresay you know what that is, don’t you?’
Jo had been gazing in awe all round her, overwhelmed by the sheer magnitude and antiquity of the buildings they had passed, but now her eyes followed his pointing finger and she was confronted with one of the most recognisable buildings on the face of the earth. It was an enormous round structure, the size of a football stadium, formed of row upon row of perfect arches, reaching up to the height of a modern high-rise building. It was made of weathered cream-coloured stone and, even though bits had crumbled, it was still recognisably a massive, solid, imposing piece of a
rchitecture.
‘The Colosseum! Wow, Corrado, that is quite something!’ Jo was almost speechless.
‘When this was built, Jesus Christ had only been dead for fifty years. Just think, Jo, what this whole area must have been like in its heyday.’
In spite of no doubt having seen it hundreds of times before, Corrado sounded as stunned by the massive building as Jo herself, and very knowledgeable. She glanced across at him.
‘Thank you for bringing me here, Corrado. What a place!’
‘You’re welcome. But promise me you’ll come back on foot. Or maybe I could come with you.’
Jo smiled at him. ‘I’d like that.’
‘Let’s carry on. There’s nowhere to stop here anyway and my canine friend back there needs a walk.’
‘That sounds like a good idea.’
They carried on past the Colosseum and onto a wide avenue shaded by iconic Roman umbrella pines, some as high as three or four storey buildings. These lived up to their name, providing welcome shade beneath their branches. Corrado pointed out the Circus Maximus off to one side, and he told her about the chariot races that had taken place there. He was obviously very proud of his Roman heritage. She was very impressed with the city, and with him.
It was a very hot day and the air conditioning either wasn’t working or it wasn’t turned on. Even with both windows wide open and wearing her lightest dress, Jo was sweltering, and the slightly cooler air under the trees was very welcome. As before, she had to share her open window with the Labrador but, fortunately, the dog was less vocal this time and Jo’s hearing remained unimpaired. Soon the area became less built up and Jo was amazed to see how many trees and parks there were around them. The road narrowed further until they found themselves approaching a massive fortified gatehouse set in what looked like the old city walls. As they reached it, Corrado pointed straight ahead, through the arched gateway.
Dreaming of Rome Page 5