A Postcard from Italy: The perfect summer beach read

by Alex Brown

  ‘Phew.’ He stood back up to his full height and started pacing around the room before stopping and walking to stand in front of her again. ‘You know, we could have got this straight days ago and had so much more fun in this incredibly romantic country …’ He grinned, cheekily, and she glanced sideways, not even wanting to contemplate what might have been, ‘… if you had just told me you felt the same way too.’

  ‘It wasn’t that easy,’ she said, solemnly, and then, lightening up, she added, ‘I could hardly say, “Hey, Ellis, I fancy the arse off you and I know you have a girlfriend so why are you flirting with me?” I just figured that I had got it all wrong. That I was reading something into it. Like a fantasy, I suppose …’ She looked away, feeling a bit foolish now.

  ‘But why would assume you had it wrong? Like I said before in the restaurant, you’re beautiful and kind and compassionate. I don’t say that lightly, or to every woman I have dinner with, you know … And hot, too. Grace, you are really hot.’ He nodded slowly, staring right at her.

  ‘Stop it,’ she smiled bashfully.

  ‘Why, when it’s the truth? Oh Grace, you are adorable,’ he laughed, before she could respond and then swiftly added, ‘in a genuine, down-to-earth, cute, hot, gorgeous, sexy AF way,’ and he pulled her in close again. ‘Now, did you mean it when you said it would never, ever happen again? The kissing thing? Because that’s not going to work, Grace.’ And he tilted his head to one side and pulled a sad, puppy-dog-eyes face. She looked at him. ‘Because, you see, I kind of liked it. A lot. Not the tears, I hated seeing you crying,’ he said, kindly. ‘That’s not what I meant. But I hope you will kiss me again … is what I mean … if you’d like to.’

  ‘Oh,’ she squeaked, rooted to the spot and then, ‘well, um, yes, I think I would like to.’ And laughed before kissing the side of his neck.

  ‘Ever since the first moment I saw you, Grace, I wanted to kiss you. Hold you. Hell, I wanted to make love to you. These days here in Italy with you have been agony and ecstasy all at the same time.’ And he passionately kissed her another time, his lips warm on hers, his arms wrapped around her body, which felt as if fireworks had just exploded somewhere deep within her. Grace melted into his embrace and then, after gently pulling back from him, she looked him right in the eyes as she slipped the straps of her sundress from her shoulders, letting it float to the floor. As she stepped out of the puddle of fabric at her feet, he pulled his T-shirt off over his head, treating her to another burst of his citrus scent and a preview of his muscular chest and well-defined six-pack. After he had unbuttoned his jeans and pushed them off too, Grace slipped her hand inside his and led him over to the bed for a blissful last night in beautiful, romantic Italy.

  Back home, and Grace floated into work with an enormous smile on her face. Her bottom had barely touched the seat of her office chair when a woman walked into the reception area with the biggest bunch of delicately scented pink roses that Grace had ever seen. After thanking the florist for the delivery and opening the little envelope attached to a bendy stick in the bouquet, her smile widened even further.

  To Grace,

  Pink roses to remind you of the botanical footpath in Portofino and so you have a little piece of Italy to ease your return to work.

  With love

  Ellis xxx

  Ah, she hadn’t even realised that he had seen her save the pink rose petals on the footpath up to the lighthouse. How thoughtful and kind. Pressing her nose into the roses, she breathed in the sweet, evocative scent and then carefully placed the bouquet on her desk before sending him a text to say thank you, and with three kisses too. A reply came back almost immediately.

  You’re welcome. See you soon, I hope. I’m missing your gorgeous face too much xxx

  Grace pressed the phone to her chest, vowing to make it happen as soon as she could. They had kissed and caressed in bed in the early hours of their last day together, a warm breeze fluttering over their naked, entwined bodies as they had talked about what next. Both keen to be together but each knowing that it wasn’t as easy as all that with them living in different countries. So for now they would have to make do with text messages and FaceTiming, which they had been doing ever since they parted at the airport to board their separate flights home.

  ‘Ooh, what lovely flowers. Who are they from?’ It was Betty coming through the door with a twinkly look in her eyes.

  ‘Err … they are from Ellis,’ Grace beamed, showing her the card, but then wondering how Betty was going to react to knowing her nephew was missing her employee’s ‘gorgeous face’.

  ‘Well I never!’ Betty marvelled, her own face breaking into a big smile. ‘I take it you two hit it off over in Italy, then?’

  ‘Um, you could say that … I think I might have fallen for him, like properly fallen for him,’ she replied, then instantly wondered if she had said too much as Betty clasped her hands together and gasped, momentarily holding her gaze, before flinging her arms around her and giving her a massive bear hug. After letting Grace go, Betty bellowed, ‘Did you hear that, Larry? Grace and Ellis are a couple. Who would have thought it, our lovely Grace and our marvellous nephew – a match made in heaven, I say, and I bet Ruth … that’s Ellis’s mum by the way …’ Betty paused and patted Grace’s arm to explain, ‘… is over the moon. Ruth has been despairing of him for years of ever finding a properly nice partner such as you. Ruth is a typical fussing Jewish mother and she won’t settle for just any girl for her only son. But she needn’t worry now that Ellis has met a gem. In fact, I think I should call her right away and celebrate the wonderful news with her—’

  ‘Steady on, love, it’s early days …’ Larry popped his head round the door. ‘You and our Ruth will have them married off within the week at this rate.’ And he winked at Grace, making her blush. ‘It’s not like it was back in our day, dear … let them settle into each other first.’

  ‘Oh, I know you are right,’ Betty rubbed her husband’s arm before giving him a kiss on the cheek. ‘But it is very exciting. I said to Ruth on the phone that Italy was just the thing for the youngsters to have a nice time togeth—’

  ‘Come on, now, anyone would think you and Ruth had planned the whole thing … you’re like a pair of silly old romantics,’ Larry laughed before going off to greet someone who had arrived in the reception area. Grace, on spotting a coy smile on Betty’s face as she bustled off into the little kitchenette area, was very happy if she had indeed ‘planned the whole thing’.

  ‘Less of the old, thank you!’ Betty called out over her shoulder, pretending to chastise Larry, and Grace grinned; she wished she was still in Italy with Ellis, but being here at work wasn’t so bad … Larry and Betty were kind and loving and it made Grace feel content and at home.

  ‘Let’s get those gorgeous flowers in some water,’ Betty said, opening a cupboard presumably to look for a vase. Grace went to help Betty as she was groaning now as she tried to bend into the cupboard under the sink to reach the vase.

  ‘Someone here to see you, Grace.’ Larry reappeared, gesturing to the customer waiting area. ‘I’ve asked him to take a seat.’

  ‘Him?’ Grace said, handing the vase to Betty and wondering who it could be. Jamie was at work – she knew that for sure as she had spoken to him earlier. Not Phil, surely? Although she wouldn’t put it past him to turn up here expecting another hand-out for the spa trip that never was.

  ‘Yes, an older gentleman,’ Larry said, discreetly lowering his voice, as Grace walked past him. ‘Very dapper, too. Want me to come with you and see what he wants?’ And without waiting for an answer, Larry followed her out to see who it was.

  ‘Mr Conway!’ Grace stepped forward to shake his hand. ‘What are you doing here?’ she added, surprised to see him. ‘How are you?’ Then, remembering her manners, Grace introduced him to Larry. ‘This is the gentleman who now lives in Connie’s flat in Blackheath.’

  ‘That’s right,’ Mr Conway said, getting up from the leather bucket chair to shak
e Larry’s hand, then turning to Grace he added, ‘I’m very well, thank you. In fact, I’m here to show you something if you have some time to spare. Sorry to arrive without warning but we thought it best to show you right away …’ And he looked towards the door as if he was expecting someone else to join them. ‘Shan’t be a jiffy,’ and he whizzed back out of the door, only to return a few seconds later with Lady Bee in tow, who had told him to go ahead and check if they had the right place before they turned up unannounced.

  After another set of introductions, Larry invited them all to come into the office and make themselves comfortable on the sofas.

  ‘So what is this all about?’ Larry asked.

  ‘Ooh, we have guests.’ Betty appeared. ‘I’m putting the kettle on – would anyone like tea or coffee?’ The perfect hostess as always. Grace jumped up to give her a hand.

  ‘Don’t be daft, dear, I can manage, and you’ll want to be there to hear what’s going on,’ Betty said in a hushed voice to Grace as she followed her back to the little kitchenette area and flicked the kettle on.

  ‘If you’re sure?’ she said, keenly.

  ‘Of course, I am. Here, you can take the babka tin and offer it around. Freshly baked this morning, thankfully.’ She handed the cake tin to Grace before doing a shooing motion with her hand on the side of Grace’s arm.

  ‘It’s a good job Mr Conway remembered where you said that you worked, my dear,’ Lady Bee started. ‘Or we would never have managed to get this to you.’ And she fished inside her handbag and pulled out a faded blue Basildon Bond envelope and handed it to Grace.

  ‘Oh, thank you. What is it?’ she said, turning the envelope over. And then her heart almost stopped as she gasped on seeing cursive letters in black ink from a fountain pen. But then she sagged on realising that this wasn’t Connie’s handwriting … yes it was old-fashioned and very similar to Connie’s, but Grace had read enough of Connie’s diaries and letters to know that it wasn’t exactly the same. So whose writing was it then?

  ‘It could be a missing piece of the jigsaw,’ Lady Bee said, covertly. ‘Mr Conway will explain,’ and she gestured grandly for him to speak, making Grace smile and wonder if she was indeed connected to the royal family or something, for she had a very imperious air about her.

  ‘Yes, I do believe it is,’ he said, unbuttoning his blazer so as to get a little more comfortable on the sofa as he leant forward to tell Grace. ‘I’m in the process of having the flat renovated, sprucing it up with new carpet and a lick of paint, plus replacing the old kitchen units, and my decorator found some post that must have slipped down behind an old kitchen cupboard. And I do hope you’ll forgive me for reading the contents …’ He coughed politely and straightened his cravat. ‘On first glance, I thought it might have been an airmail letter that I had missed from my daughter who lives in New Zealand.’

  ‘Of course,’ Grace said, keen to read the contents herself.

  ‘The letters inside are quite revealing and I remembered that you were trying to find a relative to inherit from your friend, Connie.’

  ‘Yes, that’s right,’ Grace said, hopefully. She could feel Larry beside her shifting in his seat in anticipation too.

  ‘Why don’t you take a look,’ Mr Conway said, indicating the envelope.

  And so Grace did. Carefully lifting out and unfolding a bundle of letters written on sheets of thin, pale blue airmail paper.

  To Constance,

  I feel it prudent to return the postcard you sent to Lara for it will only confuse her when she is so settled here in her new home. It really does not become you well to insist on disregarding what is best for her and putting your own needs before those of a child. Father and I trust that you will refrain from such emotional outpourings in future, if not for Lara’s sake, then for those of your new husband’s family, for I am quite certain that Senator Donato would not take kindly to you jeopardising his political career if he were to know of your meddling. I urge you to do the right thing and allow Lara to live a respectable life that is free from your continuous letters and cards which will only be returned to you or destroyed from now on.

  With fondness,

  Mother

  Grace clutched a hand to her throat, thinking what an awful, cold, mean, heartlessly ruthless woman Connie’s mother was. How could she threaten her own daughter in this way and deny her any contact, not even a letter or a card … it was just horrible.

  ‘There’s more,’ prompted Mr Conway, as Grace carefully folded the acerbic letter and put it back inside the envelope. She read the next one, this time in Connie’s handwriting, assuming it had been written several years later, for the Star of David necklace was mentioned in the first paragraph.

  My darling Lara,

  I am so looking forward to seeing you to celebrate your twelfth birthday next month and fastening a very special necklace around your pretty, grown-up girl’s neck. I continue to hold you in my heart and look forward to our reunion soon. Your stepfather and I are very much looking forward to bringing you back home with us to Italy …

  Grace turned the page to read on but there were no more words, just the faint outline of many dried-out splashes of water – tears perhaps – that had made the ink smudge and fade until the words were illegible, apart from one sentence written in Connie’s mother’s handwriting … if you insist on visiting then you must not scare Lara with your whimsical notions of taking her far away from all that she holds dear …

  ‘I’m assuming this letter was also returned to Connie by her mother … who clearly wasn’t going to entertain Connie taking Lara back to Italy,’ Mr Conway suggested.

  ‘A cruel woman, if ever there was one,’ Lady Bee gave her opinion. ‘Mr Conway has already read aloud the contents to me,’ she went on to explain before accepting a piece of babka cake and popping it on a napkin that Betty handed to her. ‘Mmm, this is delicious,’ she then added, after taking a small bite and dabbing the napkin to the corner of her lips.

  ‘Yes, Connie’s awful mother nearly ruined her life. If she hadn’t met Giovanni and found some happiness …’ Grace said, shaking her head. ‘But I don’t understand how this helps us find a living relative …’

  ‘There’s this too,’ Lady Bee said, handing Grace another envelope, a thick cream embossed one this time, with weightier paper inside.

  Grace pulled out the letter and inhaled, drawing in a faint but familiar scent … Van Cleef and Arpels. It must be Connie’s perfume, she knew it! Grace inhaled again, holding the sheets to her nose, as if drawing Connie towards her, wanting to hug and comfort the scared, lonely young lady who was all alone, heartbroken and pregnant after one moment of loving indiscretion that changed the course of her life for ever … and then banished and broken on her return to England as an older woman without Giovanni, and with such deep and pensive eyes … haunted almost, is what Larry had said. Grace read the letter aloud so that Larry could hear Connie’s words too.

  To my darling Lara,

  Before my time draws to a close I wish for you to know the truth of your heritage. But first, I must apologise if this news comes as the shock I anticipate it may do, for I am quite certain that you have grown up believing me to be your sister.

  Dearest Lara, the truth is that I am your mother. Your devoted mother who has loved you from the moment you were born, and such a beautiful baby you were, with curls as black as treacle and eyes like emeralds and just the same as your father’s, my first truelove, Jimmy Blake, who was from Franklin Street, Deptford in London. He was a hero taken from us in the war before you were even born, my love. But he would have loved you so much, of that I am most certain.

  I have let you down so terribly and am full of regret for not standing up to my mother and insisting that you be with me, as any young girl should be with her mummy. I did try, sweetheart, but on visiting you to celebrate your bat mitzvah I saw for myself how very happy you were in America with your school chums and Lady, the sweet little cocker-spaniel puppy that you had wanted for su
ch a long time. Mother said it would have been cruel to uproot you from all that you knew, to have to leave Lady behind, and it broke my heart to agree with her. However, I hope for your sake that she was right and that you have been happy and enjoyed a settled, respectable life that I could never have given you. For I am ashamed to this day to tell you that I was unmarried when you were born and it would have been so truly unfair of me to place that burden on your young shoulders too, which would have been an inevitable consequence if I had put my own desire first and insisted on you coming back to Italy with me.

  So it brings me to tell you that everything I have of sentimental meaning and monetary value is waiting for you, my darling, for it is all that I can give you, in addition to my love which you have always had. The jewellery and the paintings may be of considerable value and I hope my diaries and letters give you some comfort in knowing that you were loved so very much, for it is time now for you to know the truth of your heritage and inherit what is rightfully yours. I leave it all to you, my darling daughter Lara.

  Your devoted mother,

  Connie xx

  And there beneath Connie’s name was a PS giving the address of Cohen’s Convenient Storage Company. Connie had even thought to write her unit number, 28, and an additional PPS urging Lara to ask for Larry Cohen as he has taken good care of everything for all these years …

  Grace caught a sob of emotion in her throat. And with trembling hands she dipped her nose to the paper another time before carefully placing it back inside the envelope.

  Silence followed and they all sat motionless momentarily.

  ‘Oh Connie,’ Grace uttered to herself. Larry placed a comforting hand on her shoulder.

  ‘No wonder she looked so haunted,’ Larry lamented, shaking his head.

  ‘That poor, poor woman, and what was her mother thinking, punishing her and Lara like that? I know times were different back then, but for goodness’ sakes … to keep a mother and child apart just to keep up appearances is despicable …’ It was Betty; she had been standing behind the sofa and heard the contents of the letter too.