Dreaming of Rome

by Dreaming of Rome (retail) (epub)

  ‘We’ll cope. Believe me, it wouldn’t be the end of the world. Everybody here knows what he’s like – and that includes his parents. Nobody would blame you. What I can tell you is this: I’ve never seen him the way he was at lunchtime today, so it’s not just you. Maybe he really is changing. And it might interest you to know that Mario says Corrado hasn’t been out with anybody for ages, since early July, which coincidentally just happens to be the first time the two of you met.’

  ‘Wow!’ That really was a surprise.

  ‘Wow, indeed. You should have heard him today. He just couldn’t stop talking about you. He really wants you to come sailing with him and I honestly believed him when he told me – half a dozen times – that he promises not to lay a finger on you.’

  ‘It’s me laying my fingers on him I’m more worried about.’

  ‘When do you have to give him an answer?’

  ‘The end of next week, at the very latest.’

  ‘Well, my advice would be to take your time, think it through, talk to Victoria as well. She’s sensible. See what she says. If, after you’ve thought long and hard about it, you still feel like going, then Mario and I will understand and we’ll wish you well. Both of you.’

  No sooner had Jo put the phone down than it started ringing. She felt her heart leap as she saw who the caller was.

  ‘Corrado, hi. Good to hear from you.’

  ‘Hi, Jo, listen, I was wondering. Are you busy this weekend?’

  ‘Sort of. I’m free on Saturday, but mum’s organising a delayed birthday lunch for me on Sunday and I’ve promised to go, even though it’s going to be pretty grim.’

  ‘Ah… right.’ There was a pause while he rethought his plans. ‘The thing is, I thought I’d see if you felt like flying over for the weekend. That way I could take you riding and out for a few meals and we could just talk. But, above all, I could show you my yacht so you know what it’s like.’

  ‘That would have been wonderful.’ Jo’s mind was racing as she tried to think up ways of wriggling out of the lunch with her parents and the neighbours.

  ‘But you say you’re free on Saturday?’

  ‘Yes, absolutely.’

  ‘Right, then maybe I could come over to see you for the day and bring you photos of the boat. I’d just like to see you. Leave it with me and I’ll see what I can sort out. I’ll call you back this evening.’

  Jo spent the afternoon hoping this might be the time he actually came to London to see her. What was it Victoria had said about him maybe coming over? She had said it would be ‘auspicious’. Jo felt sure Vic was right and she couldn’t hide a growing sense of excitement at the possibility of seeing him again in just two days’ time.

  She had just got home at six when her phone rang. It was Corrado, but the first thing he said came as a great disappointment.

  ‘Hi, Jo. I’ve been looking into flights. The bad news is that Italy are playing a friendly against England at Wembley on Saturday and all morning flights from Rome and even Naples to London are sold out. Even Friday night’s sold out.’

  ‘Oh…’ Jo felt deflated, but help was at hand.

  ‘But the good news is that there are loads of empty seats from London to Rome on Saturday morning and home again in the evening. Would you feel like coming over to see me? I’m sorry it’ll be a bit of a sweat for you, but it would be so good to meet up, even just for a few hours and, of course, you’d see the boat.’

  Jo didn’t hesitate. ‘Of course, I’d love to. I’ll go ahead and book my flights.’

  ‘That’s fantastic.’ He sounded really pleased. ‘Look, I took a chance, hoping you’d say yes, and I’ve booked you on the BA flight from Gatwick to Fiumicino leaving at eight thirty on Saturday morning, and home again on the last flight which leaves at eight twenty in the evening. You get back to Gatwick at just before ten, so you should be in bed by midnight. Is that okay? It’ll be a bit tiring, I’m afraid.’

  ‘That sounds wonderful, but I can pay my own way.’

  ‘I know you can, Jo, but it’s my fault for leaving it till the last minute, so let me do it this time.’

  ‘That’s not fair. You shouldn’t…’

  ‘Well, we can argue about it over lunch on Saturday, all right?’

  ‘All right, but I’m paying for lunch. No ifs, no buts.’

  She heard him laugh. ‘It’s a deal. And, Jo, I’m really looking forward to seeing you again.’

  ‘Me, too.’

  Chapter 16

  Jo arrived in Rome at noon on Saturday in a state of barely controlled panic. She had got up in the middle of the night so as to have time to get ready and had chosen and discarded three sets of clothing before settling upon a light summer dress and the new underwear she had bought in Rome. All the way over on the plane she had been questioning why her choice of underwear should have been significant, seeing as there was no way he was going to see any of it. Was he?

  Corrado was waiting for her in the Arrivals hall and he looked almost as anxious as she felt. He waved to her and, as she approached, he held out his hand to greet her. She shook hands with him almost shyly, not sure whether she was disappointed or relieved not to have been on the receiving end of a hug and a kiss, and followed him out into the baking sun. To her surprise, the Range Rover was parked almost directly opposite the doors, barely fifty yards from the terminal. She looked across at him and smiled.

  ‘Is your little Roman policewoman on duty today or did you just get lucky?’

  He grinned at her. ‘No, it’s all above board. I just paid at the machine. But, yes, I was very lucky to find a space right here. Almost as lucky as I am to see you again.’

  As they approached the car, Jo heard a familiar bark and saw a very excited Labrador spinning round on her axis inside the boot, obviously overjoyed to see her best buddy once more. As Corrado opened the tailgate, the dog leapt out, but Jo was ready for her this time and avoided being knocked backwards into the road.

  ‘Ciao, Daisy. How’s my friend?’

  Jo made a fuss of the dog who was emitting plaintive little whines of happiness as she tried to lick Jo’s face, and then looked up at Corrado.

  ‘I think she remembers me.’

  He grinned again. ‘I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, it must be love.’

  Jo didn’t reply.

  Once they were in the car, Corrado turned towards Jo and took a long slow look at her. She felt the colour flood to her face as his eyes roamed over her body before returning to her face.

  ‘You look wonderful, absolutely wonderful.’

  ‘Well, you don’t look too shabby yourself.’

  And he didn’t. He was wearing a pale-yellow polo shirt and sand-coloured shorts and not a lot else. He looked as gorgeous as the first time she had seen him and her doubts about going sailing with him felt all the more justified. As she had told her sister, he might be able to keep his hands off her, but could she say the same about herself? She decided not to repeat the kiss she had given him when he had picked her up at Rome station a few weeks earlier, and to do her best to keep him at arms’ length.

  ‘I thought we could go and have lunch somewhere away from the coast. It’s the middle of August, and a Saturday as well, so the seaside round here’s going to be packed. Suit you if we get away from the crowds?’

  ‘Absolutely, but remember our deal. Lunch is on me.’

  ‘I still wish you’d let me do it, but it’s your call. If that’s what you want, then so be it. I know a great little restaurant where the food’s amazing and I promise it won’t break the bank.’

  As they drove out of the airport and along a series of ever quieter roads through the dead flat countryside, the atmosphere inside the car was also quiet. Partly this was as she didn’t want to disturb him while he was driving, but it was also because neither of them appeared to know what to say. Then, thankfully, she spotted a mass of Roman ruins, interspersed with huge umbrella pines, over to the left of them. She queried what they were and
he was quick to reply, no doubt pleased to have something to talk about.

  ‘That’s Ostia Antica. It used to be the main port of Rome.’

  ‘But it’s nowhere near the sea.’

  ‘Not now. The Tiber silted up and sea levels have dropped since those days, so now it’s high and dry. If we had more time today, we could go and visit the ruins. It’s amazingly well preserved. You can see the Forum, villas, paved streets, hypocausts, you name it. It’s very, very impressive.’ He glanced across at her. ‘Next time.’

  ‘Definitely next time.’ She wondered when that would be. Maybe in a week’s time if she decided to throw caution to the wind and accept his offer of a holiday on the yacht. Yet again, she turned the conundrum over in her head.

  The restaurant was little more than an old stone farmhouse. As they parked in the shade of a massive old tree and let Daisy out of the boot, half a dozen chickens ran off in alarm, clucking nervously. Daisy eyed them with interest, but Corrado was quick to make her aware of her responsibilities.

  ‘No chasing the chickens, Daisy. Got that? Lascia stare le galline!’

  Jo was impressed to see Daisy turn towards him and trot obediently at his side as they walked over to the shady terrace. About half of the tables were full and Jo couldn’t see a single tourist among them. A jovial gentleman appeared through a doorway to greet them, wiping his hands on his white apron.

  ‘Signori, buongiorno.’ He led them over to a table in the shade of a wooden pergola tacked onto the side of the building and covered in vines. It was pleasantly cool under here after the scorching heat of the midday sun.

  The menu was verbal, but with a little help from the owner, Jo ordered seafood antipasti, followed by spaghetti alle vongole, and then roast lamb, Roman style with sage, rosemary and garlic. It was far more than she would have ordered for herself, but she wanted to make sure Corrado got a good meal. He made no comment until the owner had left them to it.

  ‘That’s a lot of food you’ve ordered, Jo. Are you trying to fatten me up so that I can’t fit into my suit for the wedding?’

  Jo smiled as she heard him parody the words she had used to him the last time she had been in Rome.

  They chatted about everything from cycling to butterflies, global warming to blood tests, but neither of them even once brought up the subject of sailing. The meal was delightful and Jo was surprised to find she was able to eat all of the antipasti, most of the spaghetti with clams, and about half of the succulent roast lamb. She even had room for a lemon sorbet afterwards. As he was driving, Corrado didn’t drink much wine, and she firmly limited herself to just a glass and a half, even though the rosé was excellent. She knew she had to keep her wits about her, or, more specifically, she had to be sure her self-control didn’t waver. She didn’t need to be back at the airport for another five hours and a lot can happen in five hours.

  As they sat back with potent little cups of espresso coffee at the end of the meal, Corrado finally brought up the S-word.

  ‘If we had more time I could have taken you sailing this afternoon, but I thought you might like to come down to the marina with me anyway, so I can show you Ippona.’

  ‘That’s the name of your yacht?’

  ‘Yes, Ippona was the Roman goddess of horses. I imagine you spell it with an H in English, but over here as you know, we aren’t into H’s. Given my love of horses, it seemed like an appropriate choice.’

  ‘So, your yacht is the horse of the seas?’

  ‘My yacht is the goddess herself. She’s very beautiful.’ He shot her a quick glance. ‘Almost as beautiful as you, Jo.’

  ‘I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again; there’s no need for flattery, Corrado.’

  He grinned. ‘All right then, she’s every bit as beautiful as you. Happy?’

  Jo grinned back. ‘Well, now I really need to see her. Just give me one moment while I settle up with the owner and then let’s head for the sea.’

  When they got to the marina, Jo found herself surrounded by hundreds of boats, ranging from little rubber dinghies to massive two- or three-deck billionaires’ playthings.

  ‘Which one’s yours, Corrado? I vaguely remember the photos you showed me. It’s got a mast, hasn’t it?’

  ‘Correct. And she’s a catamaran. You know what that is? Twin hulls. She’s over there.’

  ‘Sorry, I should have said “she”. I forgot that you sailors treat your boats like women.’

  ‘I probably treat Ippona better than I’ve treated a lot of women.’ He looked across at her. ‘Sorry, Jo. Shouldn’t be talking about my shady past.’

  Past? That sounded encouraging, but she didn’t dwell upon it.

  ‘What about Daisy? How does she like sailing?’

  ‘I bought Ippona about six months before I got Daisy, so she’s been on and off the boat all her life. She loves it. And, of course, we’re surrounded by water and you know Labradors.’ They arrived at the yacht. ‘Welcome aboard Ippona, Jo. One goddess welcomes another.’

  Jo was wearing flat shoes, but she slipped them off anyway, just like he did, before following the dog across the gangway and onto the boat. She stopped and looked around. It was stunning. She had been expecting a cramped cockpit and wooden hatchways leading down into the bowels of the boat. Instead, she found that the open cockpit area was the size of a room, protected from the elements by a rigid white awning, and with seating round a table for a load of people. Above it to one side was the wheel and a dizzying collection of instruments and controls.

  Sliding glass doors led to the interior. As Corrado unlocked the doors, she followed him inside and found herself in a massive open­plan lounge with panoramic 360-degree views out through the windows, a large dining area with a big table and a horseshoe-shaped bench around it, and a lounge area with twin sofas. The kitchen was ultramodern and the whole impression was light and airy. It was quite unlike any boat she had ever been on before.

  ‘While I’m giving you the tour, let me show you the cabins. There are two in the port hull (that’s on the left-hand side) while the whole of the other hull is the master suite. All three have their own private heads and showers.’ Seeing her expression, he translated. ‘I’ve done a few sailing courses in the UK and I’ve learnt the jargon. “Heads” means a toilet. Basically, each of the bedrooms has an ensuite.’

  ‘Wow!’ This, too, was not what she had been expecting.

  ‘If you decide to come with me next weekend, you’ll have the master suite. Daisy and I will be very happy in one of the other cabins. Here, take a look.’

  Jo followed him down a steep staircase into a long, fairly slim space with full headroom and slit windows at shoulder height. The way it had been fitted out was not dissimilar from the room she had had in her hotel by the conference centre. It was comfortable, luxurious and impeccably clean. At one end was a big double bed with, touchingly, Daisy’s wicker basket on the floor in front of it. At the other end was a door leading to a beautifully-fitted shower and toilet. The overall impression was of quality and unexpected space.

  ‘What do you think?’ He sounded uncertain.

  ‘It’s amazing.’ She turned back towards him after checking out the bathroom. ‘Quite amazing. Now, can I see the other two cabins, please?’

  They climbed back into the saloon and crossed to a similar staircase on the other side. She followed him down into the other hull and found two smaller, but equally luxurious, cabins. After she had checked them out, she and Corrado went back up into the saloon again and out through glass doors at the front, leading to a flat sunbathing area where the dog was still rolling about happily. Corrado sat down on a moulded seat and pointed to another one across on the far side.

  ‘Take a seat, Jo. Now, tell me honestly, what do you think of her?’

  She sat down, noticing that there were now at least three metres between them. He certainly wasn’t crowding her.

  ‘Like I said, this is the most amazing yacht, but there’s one thing we need to get settled rig
ht now and, if you don’t agree then I’m not coming.’

  He was beginning to look uneasy now, so she hastened to put him out of his misery.

  ‘If I come with you, if you still want me, then I refuse to kick you and your dog out of the master suite. I’ll be very happy in either of the smaller cabins and I won’t under any circumstances sleep in your cabin.’ As she spoke, she made a prodigious effort to submerge the image her subconscious insisted upon producing of the two of them rolling around naked together in that big double bed. She looked across at him and smiled. ‘These terms are non-negotiable. Take them or leave them.’

  He grinned at her. ‘You drive a hard bargain. I had it all planned. I thought Daisy could sleep in the saloon and keep guard over the two of us. I want you to have nothing but the best.’

  ‘And I’m very grateful, Corrado, but there’s no need. You stay in your cabin. I’ll be fine. So, do we have a deal?’

  He stood up and came across to shake her hand. There was room alongside her for him to sit down, but he remained standing for a few moments before returning to his original position after shaking her hand.

  ‘It’s a deal. Now all you’ve got to do is to make up your mind whether you’re coming or not.’

  They sat and chatted over a cup of tea for at least an hour with the dog sprawled out on the wooden floor at their feet, occasionally running in her sleep as she chased some imaginary foe. The two sofas were set at right angles to each other and Jo sat on one while Corrado took up station a safe distance away on the other one. It was quite clear that he was either definitely not interested in her or doing his best to demonstrate that he was capable of coexisting with her on this wonderful boat without touching her. As for Jo herself, she was less sure how long she would be able to hold out.

  A bit later on, they went out to the sundeck for a brief lie-down in the sun and Jo rather regretted not bringing the new bikini when she saw him peel off his shirt. Still, she told herself, as she lay down on the soft cushions he had brought out, it was maybe for the best if she kept her dress on. He lay down right over at the far side of the deck and Daisy stationed herself in the shade by the door to the saloon, midway between the two of them. Jo closed her eyes and – probably as a result of the early start and the wine at lunchtime – dozed off.