Jo did her best to ignore whatever or whoever might be drawing him back to his flat and accepted the offer. After doing the rounds of the guests, she kissed Mario and Angie and agreed to call her sister when she surfaced in the morning to arrange where and when to meet up for their sightseeing tour of the city before Victoria’s arrival in the afternoon.
As they set off in the car, Jo checked the time. It was barely ten o’clock, which was just nine o’clock English-time, but she was definitely tired. It had been a very full day and the heat had no doubt had a debilitating effect on her body. She glanced across at Corrado.
‘Aren’t you tired? I’m exhausted.’
He shot her a quick look as they passed beneath the lights at the entrance to the estate. ‘I’m fine, and you don’t look too tired. In fact, you look lovely.’
She gave him a weary smile in return. ‘Thanks, Corrado, but you can save the compliments.’
She almost went on to tell him she wasn’t the sort of girl who would respond to flattery as part of the seduction process, but decided against it. After their chat down by the river, she was ever more convinced that he and she should just remain friends, good friends. Handsome and charming as he undeniably was, she had no desire to become another notch on his bedpost, even if he turned out to be interested in her in that way – and, so far, he hadn’t given any indication of that.
He made no further comment, which suited her fine. She did, however, make a mental note to buy herself a new bikini tomorrow when she was out and about with Angie. When packing for Rome, it hadn’t occurred to her that she might find herself somewhere with a pool.
The journey back into the centre of Rome took less than half an hour and Corrado was able to draw up right outside her hotel to drop her off. She turned towards him and smiled.
‘Thanks for everything, Corrado. I’ve had a wonderful day and a lot of it was thanks to you. Now I’m going to go in and sleep for twelve hours.’
She saw him smile back and she leant towards him to kiss him on the cheeks just as he leant towards her. In the half-light, there was a momentary muddle and her lips landed fair and square on his. Both of them jumped back like scalded cats and Jo found herself blushing again. Doing her best to compose herself, she hastily opened the door and climbed out.
‘Thanks again, Corrado. I’m here for the week, so I expect we’ll meet up again.’
‘I’ll make sure we do. Goodnight, Jo, and sleep well.’
She reached back in and patted the dog, getting a slobbery lick of her hand in reply, before slamming the door and walking up the steps and into the hotel. Behind her, she heard his car start and move off.
The same doorman greeted her, although the staff at the reception desk had changed. A dark-haired girl behind the counter smiled at her as she got into the lift and let it whisk her silently up to the top floor where she made her way along the carpeted corridor to her lovely cool room. After locking the door behind her, and without turning on the light, she dropped her bag on one of the beds and walked carefully over to the French window leading out onto the terrace. Letting herself into the clammy night air she stood resting against the balustrade, looking out over the roofs of Rome towards the unmistakable dome of St Peter’s in the distance. Four floors below, she could hear car engines and people’s voices echoing in the narrow street, while lights clearly illuminated the Spanish Steps and the Piazza di Spagna beyond. Even though it was almost eleven o’clock, the whole area was vibrant with life and she rested on her elbows, soaking up the atmosphere.
In spite of the stunning view, there was just one thought in her mind. The touch of his lips against hers, although involuntary, had sent a sudden lightning bolt through her whole body, rousing her from her somnolent state as effectively as if he had thrown a bucket of cold water over her. How on earth, after all she had heard about him and from him tonight, could a simple touch produce such a seismic reaction? She shook her head in blank incomprehension. Clearly what Corrado would have recognised as her limbic system was totally at odds with the logical part of her brain. Her sister had described him as a ‘use and discard’ sort of man. He had even warned her off himself, and he certainly was giving no signs he was attracted to her, so why should she feel such attraction towards him? As a scientist, it was unfathomable, and as a woman, it was frustrating. Where was this leading?
Her subconscious suddenly roused itself and supplied the likely answer: heartbreak.
Chapter 6
In spite of her best intentions she didn’t sleep for twelve hours, mainly because, at first, her brain stubbornly refused to let her doze off, forcing her to turn over and over in her head the events of the day. However, when she finally got off, she slept like a log right through until her phone started ringing at just after nine o’clock the next morning. Peeling her eyes open, she reached for it and hit green. It was Victoria and she had news.
‘Hi, Jo, it’s me.’
‘Hi, Vic, all packed and ready?’
‘Yup, and I should be in Rome by six.’
Jo lay back against the wonderfully soft pillow and stretched, forcing her brain into gear. ‘Take the train from the airport to Roma Termini station. Text me as you get on the train and I’ll be waiting for you when you come out.’ A thought occurred to her. ‘And keep a firm hold of your bags at the station. Corrado says it can be a dodgy place.’
‘So, you’ve already seen your hunky Corrado?’
‘Like I’ve already told you, he’s not my Corrado. And even less so after what I heard yesterday.’
‘And that was?’
‘It’s a bit complicated. I’ll tell you when I see you, all right?’
‘It’s nothing too drastic, though, is it? He’s not gay, is he?’
‘No, Vic, that’s for sure.’
‘You said that pretty quickly. So if he isn’t gay, is he married?’
‘Nope. Like I say, it’s complicated.’
Victoria finally gave in. ‘All right then. Anyway, Jo, I’ve got news of my own. Guess who came to Marguerite’s wedding with me yesterday?’
In fact, it wasn’t too hard to guess. Victoria had been out for dinner earlier that week with George from the Italian class and apparently it had been a good night.
‘George?’
‘George. And it went really well.’
‘And you’re going to see him again?’
‘He says he’s counting the days until I get back from Rome.’
After ringing off, Jo thought about calling her sister, but decided to wait until a bit later as she and Mario would no doubt have had a late night. She showered and dressed and went down for breakfast. This was absolutely amazing and she very nearly went back to bed as soon as she returned to her room, just to sleep it off. Instead, she decided to walk it off. She phoned Angie and they arranged to meet at noon by the Arch of Constantine on the edge of the Forum. This gave Jo two hours to herself and she wasted no time before heading out.
It was warm, but not yet suffocatingly hot at this time of day, although the cloudless blue sky promised a repeat of yesterday’s heat. Jo made her way down the wide sweep of the Spanish Steps towards the Piazza di Spagna. As she walked down, she tried to count the steps, but lost count just after reaching a hundred as a wave of Chinese tourists almost swept her off her feet. She took refuge against the stone wall at the edge of the stairway until they had passed before continuing down to the square and across it into the narrow Via dei Condotti.
The name of the street was vaguely familiar to her and she soon discovered why. The first shop she came to on her left was Gucci with, right opposite, Prada. Then came Bulgari, Cartier, and a never-ending series of horrifically expensive luxury shops. Few of the shop windows deigned to show prices, but those that did very quickly convinced Jo to delay her purchase of a new bikini until she found somewhere a bit more within her price range. Even at this time on a Sunday morning, the street was crowded and an astonishing number of people were already carrying bags boasting big-name br
ands. Clearly, Corrado wasn’t the only person in Rome to have money.
Thoughts of Corrado brought back memories of the previous day and the conversation they had had down by the river. He had been totally clear in his rejection of the concept of love, and she believed he meant it. Besides, she, too, harboured very serious doubts about whether the phenomenon really existed. How was it then that she had been so affected by that momentary touch of his lips against hers? She was an intelligent person and, as such, she knew full well that romantic involvement with him would be a disaster and, besides, he patently thought of her purely as his future sister-in-law. Given these undeniable facts, why had his kiss been so disorienting? This question continued to exercise her all the way down to the Forum, but without resulting in any conclusion.
A wide swathe of central Rome was a traffic-free zone, although she very quickly learned to be on the lookout for cycles, buses or, more dangerous still, electric taxis that swept up from behind almost without a sound. Before too long, she found herself walking past the Fori Imperiali and, as Corrado had said, she was immediately confronted by a dazzling array of monuments and ruined buildings dating back two thousand years, with the vast bulk of the Colosseum ever present beyond. By this time, it was almost noon and she hurried along to Constantine’s Arch to meet Angie, who turned up ten minutes late and apologetic.
‘Sorry I’m late, but Mario was giving me a lift and he had a last-minute panic at the restaurant – something to do with a delivery of fresh fish…’
‘Don’t worry. I’ve just been taking in the sights.’
‘And how do you feel about more walking? Not too tired?’
‘I’ve got a week of sitting down at the conference to look forward to, so I’m up for a bit of walking. And after last night’s feast and this morning’s breakfast – and I’m talking full English plus – I need the exercise, or I’ll end up looking like the Michelin Man.’
‘Don’t be silly. You could do with a few more pounds. My bikini was almost hanging off you last night.’
‘I don’t know about that, but that reminds me, can you take me to a shop where I can buy myself one, but not for three hundred euros?’ She caught her sister’s eye. ‘I’ve just walked down Via dei Condotti.’
Angie grinned again. ‘Not for the faint-hearted. Don’t worry, I know some nice shops with far more sensible prices. I tell you what, let’s take a bus there now and then we can walk from there to the Vatican as our first port of call. I’ve got bus tickets.’
Angie led Jo along to a bus stop, conveniently situated under the shade of another of the massive umbrella pines. As they waited for the bus, they chatted, but Jo was careful to steer the conversation away from Corrado. That whole situation was too complicated for a hot Sunday lunchtime. When the bus arrived, however, Jo was in for a major shock. As it drew up, she found herself level with the side of the bus, just behind the front door. There was a colourful panel on there advertising a fashion show taking place at the Palazzo delle Esposizioni and, to her astonishment, the face of the handsome male model on the catwalk was one she knew only too well. She stopped dead and pointed, unsure if she was capable of speech, such was her surprise. Angie followed her pointing finger and did a double take.
‘Bloody hell, Jo, it’s Christian!’
Jo nodded blankly. The doors of the bus hissed open and a crowd of people poured out while the people ahead of them in the loose ‘queue’ – not a Roman concept – made a rush to get in. Jo felt Angie’s hand on her arm and she let herself be dragged blindly up into the bus with her. She heard the door close behind her and just managed to collect her thoughts sufficiently to grab hold of a post and hang on as the bus set off. She saw Angie punch two tickets into the little time-stamping machine and beckon to her. As the bus came to a halt at traffic lights, Jo followed her sister down to the back of the bus where there were two free seats. She slumped down and blinked a few times, drawing breath.
‘Fancy Christian being here at the same time as you, Jo!’ Angie sounded as amazed as Jo felt.
‘I know.’ Jo shook her head and turned towards her sister. ‘Still, I suppose it was bound to happen one day or another. He travels all over the world. If it wasn’t here, it would’ve been London.’
‘Do you want to see him?’ Angie laid a supportive hand on Jo’s arm. ‘We could go to the exhibition place today if you like.’
‘God, no. That’s the last thing I want. That’s all dead and buried.’
As she spoke, Jo realised that she really meant it at long last. It was almost five months since his sudden departure from her life and she had been struggling to rid herself of thoughts of him for most of that time. She glanced at Angie and hung on as the bus swung sharply round a double-parked car.
‘I mean it, Angie. He’s history. No, let him strut his stuff in blissful ignorance of the fact that I’m here. Besides, I doubt he’s any keener to see me than I am to see him.’
At some point they must have crossed the Tiber, but Jo’s mind was elsewhere. When Angie finally pulled herself to her feet and headed for the door, Jo had no idea where she was. They stepped down onto the pavement and as the bus pulled away Jo managed to rouse herself from her catatonic state and looked around. They were in a much more modern area of the city. The buildings were predominantly concrete and modern brick, and both sides of the street were lined with shops. She felt her sister’s hand on her arm.
‘What you need’s a bit of retail therapy. That’ll take your mind off Christian.’
She was right. By the time Jo had bought herself a new bikini her head had cleared. The bikini looked good on her, although it wasn’t much less revealing than the one she had borrowed yesterday afternoon, and she felt sure her mother would disapprove, but she bought it as much to keep her sister quiet as anything else. While she was there, she also bought some badly-needed new underwear and a few other bits and pieces. By now, she had started thinking logically about Christian again. So what if he was here in Rome? It was a very big place. As they walked out of the shop into the sunshine and she stuffed her purchases into her bag, she gave Angie a grin.
‘To paraphrase what they used to say in the old Westerns, Angie, this town is big enough for the both of us. There’s no way Christian and I are going to meet up, so let’s forget him.’
Angie looked relieved. ‘And you really mean it about being over him? We’ve been very worried about you these past few months.’
Jo reached out and gave her a hug. ‘Thanks, Angie. I really am over him. It’s taken time, but I’ve finally got him out of my system.’
As she spoke, she found herself wondering what the catalyst for this sea change might have been, but was lost for an answer. It couldn’t be Corrado, because nothing was going to happen there. And if it wasn’t him? Maybe it was just the healing atmosphere of the Eternal City. Whatever it was, she told herself, it was working, and she mentally closed the compartment in her head marked ‘Christian’ and felt all the better for it. She released Angie and gave her a smile.
‘So, where to now?’
‘I thought we could start at the Vatican. That’s barely a fifteen-minute walk from here. The only bad news is that the Vatican museum’s normally closed on Sundays. Still, you can come back during the week if you’ve got time.’
They made their way through the baking hot streets, hugging any shade they could find, until they came out into a broad boulevard, at the end of which they could see the curved outline of St Peter’s Square, with the Basilica and the Vatican behind. They walked up in the blazing heat until they reached the piazza. This was crowded with tourists and believers, and Jo stood in the shade, looking round in wonder and admiring the remarkable curved colonnade that ringed it. Above the colonnade, just to the right, Angie pointed out the surprisingly unassuming window from which the Pope appeared from time to time. After taking some photos, they went from there into the majesty of St Peter’s Basilica along with hundreds, if not thousands, of other people and marvelled at the opul
ence of the decoration.
In spite of Jo’s resolve to avoid food after her mammoth breakfast, she allowed herself to be persuaded to stop at an ice cream parlour on the way back towards the city centre. It was as they were sitting on the sidewalk under a parasol, drinking ice-cold water, eating frozen yoghurt and cooling down, that Angie got a phone call. It was Corrado inviting them for dinner that evening. Jo couldn’t help feeling a little surge of excitement at the idea of seeing him again, although she put in a plea for a very light meal. Then, just before he rang off, she remembered Victoria’s imminent arrival. Angie relayed the message to Corrado, who immediately extended the invitation to Jo’s friend as well.
After a tiring afternoon, punctuated by very welcome cafe stops, Jo got a call from Victoria, telling her she had landed safely and was about to get on the train from the airport. Together, Angie and Jo walked up through the back streets to Termini station. It was getting even hotter by now and once they met up with Victoria, they decided to take a taxi back to Jo’s hotel.
They went up to Jo’s room and sat outside on the terrace and chatted in a precious patch of shade that grew gradually smaller and smaller as the sun came round. Finally, they were obliged to head back inside into the coolness of the air-conditioned interior. Victoria declared herself very impressed by Rome, the hotel and everything, and Jo was delighted for her. They had been best friends since school and had always looked out for each other. When Victoria heard that Christian was here in Rome, she declared herself fully prepared to go out and buy a baseball bat and set off after him. She had never forgiven him for the hurt he had inflicted on Jo and that spring she had been a tower of strength during Jo’s darkest moments. Jo calmed her down and told her not to waste her time. As she had said to Angie, that was all over now.
After Christian had been dealt with, Victoria got her to recount her conversation with Corrado the previous evening. When Jo reeled off all the scientific jargon he had produced to support his theory of love being an illusion, she saw amazement on Victoria’s face and a distinct lack of surprise on her sister’s. After Jo repeated Corrado’s protestations that he didn’t go looking for women, Angie was the first to comment.
Dreaming of Rome Page 9