Italian Summer with the Single Dad

by Ella Hayes

  Slowly, she retraced her steps through the secret gardens then took a path which led to the formal garden. This was the garden with the best view of the sea. She gazed at the vast stretch of blue, watched the sparkling yachts and gleaming motorboats trailing white plumes of surf, their paths crossing and fading like chances. No wonder Zach and Isabella had wanted to buy this place—the location was perfect.

  When she felt the sun burning her bare legs she turned back towards the house, pausing to take in the golden glow of its stone walls against the deeper greens of the surrounding trees and shrubs. She was about to walk on when she suddenly noticed that Lucia was waving at her from the terrace. She waved back, smiling, but as she got closer she realised that Lucia wasn’t waving, she was beckoning. Perturbed, Olivia hastened up the three flights of stone steps to the main terrace, wondering why she was being summoned.

  She’d barely spoken to Lucia since she arrived. She’d been busy, recceing the gardens, planning the best angles, taking test shots. She’d been terrified of making a mistake, of not being properly prepared for that all-important first wedding, and anyway, after Zach’s warning, she’d decided it would be best to keep out of Lucia’s way.

  She cleared the final steps with a pounding heart, but when she looked across the terrace she couldn’t help smiling. Alessia was splashing about in a little paddling pool, a big pair of green sunglasses perched on her nose. Lucia was hovering nearby with a towel over her arm and a slightly harassed expression on her face. She looked rather overdressed for poolside duties, Olivia thought.

  As she approached, Lucia looked up and beamed. ‘Olivia! I hear the wedding went very well yesterday.’ The older woman pulled her into a surprisingly warm embrace, kissed each cheek in turn. ‘Zach told me you took wonderful photographs!’

  ‘He said that?’ It felt nice, hearing Zach’s praise from Lucia’s lips. ‘I was a little nervous, to be honest, but it went well. The bride and groom were lovely—’

  ‘Nonna! Guarda cosa so fare?’ Alessia was pouring water out of a plastic teapot onto the terracotta setts.

  Lucia turned and smiled. ‘Very clever, my darling, but please speak in English—for Olivia.’

  Alessia lifted her chin and peered over the sunglasses, which had slipped halfway down her nose, then she giggled and plunged her teapot back into the water.

  Lucia turned back apologetically. ‘I’m sorry to ask you, Olivia, and I wouldn’t be asking at all if I hadn’t seen you walking in the garden, but I’m meeting a friend in Ravello...’

  That explained the outfit.

  Lucia rolled exasperated eyes. ‘Zach was supposed to be here but he had to take a phone call...and it’s lasting a long time...’ She lifted the towel off her arm, dangled it in her hands. ‘So, I was wondering...’

  Olivia could feel perspiration blooming on her back.

  ‘Would you please stay with Alessia until he comes? It won’t be long—it could be just for one minute, but I really have to go now...’

  Lucia was holding out the towel, her eyes imploring. Olivia glanced at Alessia, felt her stomach kink. She had no experience of looking after small children. What if something happened whilst she was in charge? Lucia’s eyes were warm, expectant, pleading.

  Olivia nipped at her lower lip with her teeth and glanced at the pool again. Six inches of water! Alessia seemed to be perfectly happy, playing with a family of yellow ducks. Maybe Zach would be right down and perhaps babysitting Alessia would earn her some favour, ease Lucia’s misgivings about her, whatever they might be. She sucked in a big breath and took the towel from Lucia’s hands.

  ‘Okay, I’ll keep an eye on her until Zach comes back. It’ll be...fun!’

  * * *

  Zach put down the receiver with a sigh. His father was hard to shake off when he was talking business, thought nothing of interrupting his son’s Sunday afternoon to discuss marketing strategies and balance sheets. He was amazed that his father still had that fire in his belly, admired it in a way. Of late, his own fire had dwindled to barely a glow. He switched off his computer, tidied his papers into a pile. Lucia was going to be cross with him for taking so long, but this was how it always was for him. Work first!

  As he walked through the house, listening to the echo of his disenchanted footsteps, he pictured himself at twenty-one, arriving in Rome with a rucksack on his back and a guitar case in his hand. He’d fallen in love with Italy during a family holiday and had always wanted to return, wanted to learn the language. So, after he’d finished his music degree, he’d bought a ticket...

  He’d got a job in a pizza place, spent his evenings working in a bar, playing sometimes. In those days he’d fancied himself as Joe Satriani. He’d met other musicians, joined a band, spent two years gigging all over Europe. They’d got decent reviews, made enough money to keep body and soul together; they’d even started talking to record companies. They thought they were going places, believed they’d break through...but instead they broke up. They’d been in Naples when their charismatic lead singer suddenly announced he was going solo. Zach hadn’t seen it coming. None of them had. They’d tried to find a new singer, but the glue was loosening. The band fell apart.

  And then he’d met Izzy. Her family owned a restaurant in Naples and she’d been his waitress. He’d gone back night after night, just to see her, but soon he’d realised that he’d need to offer her more than his love, and his disillusionment with the music industry. He went back to England and joined the family business. His father had been delighted. Playing music was all very well, he’d said, but he thought Zach should have another string to his bow—his father used to like that joke! Ironically, another string to the Merrill Hotel group’s bow was exactly what Zach achieved. He spearheaded a profitable new enterprise—Merrill Select—specialising in exclusive luxury boutique hotels. He was enjoying his success but Izzy owned his heart and soon his flying visits to Naples weren’t enough. He’d come up with an idea. The Amalfi Coast was a burgeoning tourist spot—a prestige boutique hotel could do very well. It was the best compromise he could think of, running a Merrill Select hotel in Italy with Izzy. They’d been looking for a suitable place when they’d found Casa Isabella...

  He’d traded music for the hotel business, traded the hotel business for an exclusive wedding venue, and then he’d lost his guiding star. If he felt adrift sometimes, perhaps it was understandable...

  * * *

  As he neared the terrace the sound of frenetic splashing and happy laughter interrupted his train of thought. He paused to listen. The voice he could hear with Alessia’s wasn’t Lucia’s... He felt a smile coming as he softened his tread and moved closer. Beside a stone pillar he stopped and gazed across the terrace.

  Olivia was standing in the paddling pool holding Alessia’s hands. Alessia was jumping up and down, Olivia lifting her higher than she could jump on her own. They were both laughing and Alessia was shouting, ‘Again! Again!’ The area around the edges of the little pool was mottled and damp, littered with toys—yellow ducks, assorted buckets and a plastic teapot. It was a lovely scene, one he didn’t want to interrupt, so he leaned against the pillar to watch. Olivia’s legs were bare, glistening wet. There were splashes on her shorts and tee shirt, drops of water clinging to her face and hair. When Alessia stopped jumping Olivia helped her to sit down, then stepped out of the pool and knelt on a towel.

  ‘Alessia, I’d like a nice cup of tea!’ Olivia handed Alessia the plastic teapot and held out a little blue cup. ‘Could you please pour me some?’

  Alessia screwed up her face in concentration, dunked the teapot into the pool then looked up, spied him against the pillar and started to scramble to her feet. ‘Papà!’

  Olivia’s hands shot out to steady her.

  Zach wished he could have watched them for longer, but he’d been rumbled. He strode across the terrace. ‘Hey! You look like you’re having fun.’

 
Olivia looked up and smiled. ‘We’re having the best time ever, aren’t we, Alessia?’

  ‘Sì, sì, sì!’

  Alessia reached for him and he lifted her into his arms. He felt the coolness of her little body, wetness from her swimsuit seeping into his shirt.

  ‘Lucia had to go out.’ Olivia was swiping water from her legs. ‘She asked me to babysit.’

  ‘I’m sorry—she should have brought Alessia to me.’

  Olivia stood up straight and met his gaze with a little wide-eyed shrug. ‘Alessia was playing! Lucia probably didn’t want to spoil her fun. Anyway, I didn’t mind.’

  ‘Well, thank you—I appreciate it.’ He sighed, tidied wet strands of hair from Alessia’s face then kissed her little nose. ‘My father decided that today would be a good day to catch up on business. It’s hard to get away once he starts talking.’

  Olivia bent to pick up the ducks then launched them into the water. ‘At least you still catch up—’

  ‘Paparelle!’

  Alessia was struggling in his arms so he put her down.

  She squatted next to Olivia, picked up two of the ducks and pushed their beaks together. ‘Bacio!’

  Olivia laughed, touched Alessia’s shoulder. ‘That’s a kiss! Are the ducks kissing?’

  Alessia giggled. ‘Kiss!’

  Light was bouncing off the water, reflecting on his daughter’s face, dancing in Olivia’s eyes. Watching them, Zach felt an unexpected swell of happiness. He was used to seeing Alessia with Lucia but, for some reason, the way she’d taken to Olivia pleased him beyond measure. He dropped down beside her and dipped his hand into the water.

  ‘Do the ducks love each other?’ Olivia was asking and Alessia returned a deep nod, her eyes dark and wise. She lifted one of the ducks to Olivia’s mouth and Olivia laughed. ‘You want me to kiss the little duck?’

  Alessia giggled, pressed the duck’s beak to Olivia’s lips.

  ‘Mwah!’

  Alessia lifted the duck to his lips. ‘Papà, you kiss the duck.’

  Olivia was laughing at him now, eyes shining. He looked at Alessia then planted a kiss on the wet plastic beak. Alessia giggled again, her cheeks round and smooth as apples. Then he was laughing too. Perhaps the bridge he needed to build with his daughter wasn’t so wide after all. He pulled her onto his lap and pressed his lips to her damp hair. When he looked up, Olivia was gazing at him softly.

  She moistened her lips, shot him a little smile. ‘I should go.’

  Alessia wriggled backwards against his stomach, the sweet smell of her skin reminding him of vanilla. The warmth of the sun, the warmth of his daughter’s body nestled against him felt so nice that he didn’t want to spoil the moment with goodbyes, but how could he make Olivia stay? She was getting to her feet. He hesitated for a scant second then leaned in to his daughter’s ear, stage-whispered, ‘We don’t want Liv to go, do we?’

  Alessia tipped up her face to look at him then scrambled off his knee and put her hand into Olivia’s.

  Olivia smiled down at her. ‘But I have to go. I’ve got to work.’

  Zach watched a familiar frown appearing on Alessia’s face. It was the frown she used whenever he told her he was too busy to play.

  She tugged on Olivia’s hand. ‘Why?’

  Olivia looked at him, widened her eyes. She was trying not to laugh, he could tell.

  ‘Because I work for your daddy and if I don’t do my work he will be very sad.’

  Zach dipped his hand into the pool again, ran his fingers back and forth. He could feel a smile growing on his lips. Using Alessia as a go-between was ridiculous. If he wanted Olivia to stay, there was only one thing for it. He cupped his hand to make a scoop and suddenly hurled a handful of water out of the pool. As it splattered over Olivia’s legs, she shrieked, Alessia shrieked, then both of them laughed. Olivia fixed him with a look that made him jump to his feet and step back.

  ‘Alessia! Can you please pass me the teapot? I think your daddy would like a nice cup of tea...’

  * * *

  Olivia pressed the towel to her face then blotted her hair. The puddles from their water fight were evaporating quickly in the late afternoon sun. She watched Zach drying Alessia, towelling the little legs and arms, turning her this way and that, pulling a little tunic dress over her head. He was a good father, she could see that. She looked away, gazed at the boats criss-crossing the blue expanse of sea below. She remembered days at the beach with her dad, the way he’d throw a huge towel around her when she came out shivering, enfold her in his big, warm bear hug. And then he’d make a fire on the beach by rubbing two sticks together, which was the coolest thing ever, and he’d cook something he’d brought for them and always there’d be toasted marshmallows afterwards. She smiled at the memory then let it fade as she felt an incoming tide of pain.

  ‘Who’s hungry?’

  She turned, saw that Zach had finished with Alessia and was rubbing at his wet hair with the towel. She couldn’t resist a victory smile. Her revenge for the splashing he’d given her had been swift and satisfying. A pot of ‘tea’ over his head, with Alessia laughing so much she’d got the hiccups. Then there’d been chasing, water being flung from buckets, a game of catch the duck: total mayhem. Good fun. But she couldn’t stay—she hadn’t meant to stay this long.

  She slipped on her sandals. ‘Thanks, but I should go.’

  He dried his face and smiled. ‘Eat with us, Liv. Please... It’s nothing fancy—just pizza. You can work later...’

  She could see in his eyes how much he wanted her to stay, but there was something else too, something in his gaze that was making the ground shift beneath her feet. She felt her stomach tilt. The problem was that she wanted to stay, wanted to share whatever it was they’d been sharing all afternoon but she was torn, confused by a blurring of lines which she thought she’d drawn in permanent ink.

  Suddenly an irresistible little hand pushed its way into hers. She looked down to see Alessia looking up at her through thick, thick lashes. ‘Don’t you like pizza?’

  She smiled and threw Zach a helpless look. ‘I like it if it doesn’t have pineapple on it.’

  Zach flung his arms out, mimicked a strong Italian accent. ‘Theze eez It-aly! Pineapple is for-beeden.’

  He looked so comical that she couldn’t help laughing. She looked down at Alessia, squeezed the little hand. ‘Okay, in that case I’m in!’

  * * *

  Zach’s ground-floor suite was located at the opposite end of the house to hers. There was a large open-plan kitchen/sitting room, flooded with light from two sets of French windows. The décor was neutral, the furniture comfortable, but Olivia got the impression that it was a work in progress. Bare wires poked through one of the walls in the kitchen—‘Waiting for wall-lights,’ he told her. There was a collection of pictures propped against the wall in the sitting room—‘Waiting to be hung,’ he said. She noticed his guitar, sleek as an amber jewel, parked on a stand in the corner.

  Alessia took her hand, tugged her through the apartment to her own little bedroom. In contrast to the living area, Alessia’s room was finished to the highest degree: brightly painted walls in a delicious shade of mango, colourful pictures, a blue toy box and bookcase, a white wardrobe and chest of drawers. Alessia shifted a row of teddy bears so that Olivia could sit on the bed then she knelt in front of the toy box, pulling out dolls and plastic ponies, chattering away, half to herself and half to Olivia.

  As she looked around, Olivia could feel Isabella...could read the past as if it had been written on the wall. They must have been working on the renovation, discovered that they were expecting a baby. She could hear Isabella’s voice: ‘There’s mess everywhere, Zach. We need this room to be perfect for the baby...’

  A photo frame on the bedside table caught her eye and she picked it up.

  Isabella!

  A lovel
y face framed by straight dark hair, cheekbones defined by the makings of a smile. Her eyes sparkled with a warm, mischievous light, as if she had a secret she was dying to tell.

  Olivia stared at the photograph, losing herself in the eyes of the woman who’d captured Zach’s heart, until a clatter of toys on the floor jerked her out of her trance and hurriedly she put the frame back.

  She watched Alessia trotting a pair of white ponies with long pink manes across the floor, making little clicking noises with her tongue. She was like her mother—would look more and more like Isabella as she grew up.

  Olivia wondered what Zach had told her. Mummy’s in heaven...? It was what she would say if Alessia was hers. Mummy’s in heaven but she’s watching you all the time, sending her love to you on...sunbeams. Something like that...something Alessia could see.

  She heard approaching footsteps then Zach appeared in the doorway, waving a bottle. ‘Glass of wine?’

  Alessia looked up, carried on clicking her tongue.

  ‘Sounds great!’ Olivia put the jumbled teddy bears back into line then stood up. When she caught Zach’s eye she could see amusement on his face and she felt her cheeks creasing into a smile. ‘What? It’s how I found them.’

  He shook his head a little and smiled, then dropped to his haunches. ‘Alessia, why don’t you bring Poppy and Wizard into the sitting room for a gallop?’

  Alessia rocked back on her heels, pushed the hair out of her face. ‘Okay.’

  Olivia followed Zach through the apartment. She liked the way he walked, the way his hair grazed his collar at the back of his neck, dark and soft. She liked the shape of his shoulders, broad, dependable-looking. Behind her, she could hear Alessia’s tongue still clicking furiously and it was hard not to laugh. She liked Alessia, found her sweet and comical. That she could find a child fascinating was a revelation. She’d never spent a lot of time with small children. As an only child, she’d been surrounded by adults most of the time. She had a vague recollection of the kids at nursery school, but that was different—they’d all been kids together then. Alessia was the first youngster she’d spent proper time with, and she’d enjoyed every moment.