by Jules Wake
‘Sorry, it’s Nan. Do you mind if I get this?’
‘No, not at all.’
Lisa answered the phone with a worried frown.
‘Hello Nan. Everything alright?’
‘Do you know where those seeds are?’
‘Which seeds?’ Lisa sighed, relaxing immediately. Seeds she could cope with.
‘The antirrhinums. We bought them when we went to Morrisons last week.’
‘Aren’t they in your seed box?’ Lisa shook her head slightly at Will, who smiled as he sipped from his glass. ‘Sorry,’ she mouthed.
‘It’s okay,’ he mouthed back.
‘If they were, I wouldn’t be ringing you, would I?’ At Nan’s tart and loud response, Will gave her a sudden grin. He could clearly hear every strident word.
‘Well, I’m sorry I don’t know. I remember you unpacking the shopping. You didn’t put them in the cupboard with the teabags, did you?’
‘And why would I do that? I’m not senile, you know.’
It was more than Lisa’s life was worth to tell her that occasionally she was a bit forgetful. There was the small matter of the load of washing Lisa had found in the oven a few weeks ago.
‘It’s the next cupboard along – you might have done it without thinking.’
She could hear the cupboard doors in Nan’s kitchen banging.
‘Nan, I’m in Rome. Can’t it wait until I get back?’
‘Hmph, and we have to dance to your tune, do we? I guess it must if you’re busy gallivanting about on a wild-goose chase. Have you found the no-good loser yet?’
‘Not exactly. It’s-’
‘Didn’t think you would. Long gone that one. Just as well. And how’s that Italian fella of yours?’ Will suddenly seemed very interested in a picture on the wall opposite.
‘Giovanni. He’s fine.’
‘Hmph.’
‘How are your dahlias?’
‘Getting drowned. We’ve had so much rain.’
‘And are you taking your medication?’ Lisa knew the question wouldn’t go down well, but she had to ask.
‘Don’t you start! They give me chronic indigestion.’
‘Nan! You promised.’
‘I did no such thing.’
‘Nan, you have to take them. You know what the doctor said.’
‘Him. He’s a fusspot. Since when did a bit of what you fancy kill you?’
Quite often, thought Lisa, if you ate what you fancied day in and day out.
‘If I eat all the stuff he says, I might as well be dead.’
‘Don’t say things like that.’
‘Why not? It’s true. I could die any day now.’ Lisa wilted in her seat. ‘Aha, I’ve found them. Right next to the teabags. You must have put them away in the wrong cupboard. Right, I’m away planting.’ And with that Nan disconnected the call.
Lisa groaned and laid her head on the table. ‘Oh lord, I love her, but she drives me insane. She wants to plant seeds at this time of day.’
‘Nothing too serious, then?’ Will asked.
‘No!’ Lisa let out an exasperated huff. ‘Not as long as she takes her medication. She’s a flipping nightmare. Unfortunately, she refuses to listen to the doctor.’ Her lips pressed together in frustration.
‘But there’s nothing … really wrong with her, is there?’ Will looked particularly worried.
Lisa sighed and rocked her head back to look at the ceiling. ‘She’s got high blood pressure.’ She faltered, her breath getting stuck in her throat. ‘If she doesn’t take her pills properly, she’s at very high risk of having a stroke. She won’t bloody listen to the doctor or … t-to me.’ Embarrassed she blinked away a couple of tears. ‘A stroke would …’ she gave an ironic laugh, ‘kill her. Literally. She would hate to be physically infirm or dependent on anyone else. All I can do is make sure she avoids any kind of stress and nag her about taking the tablets.’
Will looked hugely discomfited, playing with the pepper mill on the table and not looking at her.
‘I didn’t realise she was that ill …’
‘Neither does she. Last time I went to the hospital, the doctor made it quite clear, but she won’t listen.’
Will frowned, rubbing at a crease on his forehead.
When the waiter cleared their plates, he presented them with the dessert menu.
‘Okay, what would you recommend?’ asked Lisa, studying the choices. ‘I have to warn you now. Pudding has to contain at least three parts to one of chocolate, otherwise I’m not interested.’
Will, clearly miles away, didn’t respond.
‘Any suggestions?’ she prompted.
‘Erm, chocolate ice cream.’
Lisa gave a spluttery laugh. ‘I thought, at the very least, you’d make me try something different. Chocolate ice cream is playing safe. How about tiramasu? What’s that like?’
‘No, it’s got coffee in it.’ He’d swapped the pepper mill to fiddle with the packets of sugar in the centre of the table.
Lisa perused the menu for another minute.
‘What are you going to have?’
‘I’m not in the mood for pudding … but you go ahead, if you fancy it.’
‘I shall have tiramisu.’ Lisa sat up, feeling rather proud of herself, although Will didn’t seem to have registered. ‘Tiramisu. Aren’t you impressed? A model student.’
Will nodded, absorbed in the little paper sleeves of sugar. ‘Yes. Great progress.’
The waiter arrived to take their order.
Will shook his head. ‘Nothing for me, thank you.’
Lisa pursed her mouth. Well, she was going to have a dessert and she was going to have the tiramisu. Wasn’t she? Only suddenly she didn’t fancy it any more.
‘Caffé?’ asked the waiter, his mouth a sad little moue of disappointment, as if he’d taken their rejection of pudding rather personally.
‘Do you have,’ Lisa glanced at Will, but decided to risk his approbation, ‘tea?’
‘Yes, signorina, we have green tea, English breakfast tea or mint tea.’
‘The English breakfast would be lovely.’
‘And for you, sir?’
‘Nothing, thank you.’
The waiter nodded and melted away before Lisa could cancel her order.
‘I’m sorry, I wouldn’t have ordered if I’d realised that you weren’t-’
‘It’s fine.’ Will’s taut jawline suggested that he was anything but fine.
‘Is something wrong, Will?’ she finally asked.
He at least had the grace to look ashamed.
‘Sorry.’ The heavy, thoughtful frown reappeared. ‘I’ve got a bit of headache. It’s been a long day and I’ve got a packed schedule tomorrow.’
‘I’m sorry, why didn’t you say?’
He lifted his shoulders.
‘Do you need any paracetamol?’
‘No thanks.’
She got halfway through her tea and gave up. Will had lapsed into silence and she felt guilty.
‘Come on, I’ve had enough. Do you want to get the bill?’
Outside an Uber cab waited. Will and his magic apps in action again.
‘Wow, it’s busy out here now.’
‘Mmm,’ said Will, scrolling through his phone.
Lisa turned to look out of the window, suddenly feeling very tired.
It had been a long and quite emotional day and Will had been incredibly supportive. No wonder he had a headache. They had been on the go since first thing this morning.
The lights flashed by as the cab made its way through the traffic, which seemed as bad as ever, even at this time of day. The stuffiness inside the taxi made her wind down the window to let in a bit of air. As she did, it brought in the sound of horns and the chug of the diesel engine.
She peered out of the window, it seemed that there were still so many sights to see. At night, the churches were lit up with well-placed spotlights, sending long shadows upwards, silhouetting statues, highlighting the domes and towe
rs brilliantly in the night skyline.
Will seemed oblivious and spent the whole cab journey on his phone, the light of the screen a constant in the dark, drawing her eye and making her aware of his sudden withdrawal.
At last the cab pulled up outside the gateway to the apartment. They walked up the driveway in silence, cicadas chirping in the grass to their left, silencing as their footsteps crunched up the dark pathway and then starting up again as they moved on.
As they reached the apartment door, Lisa bumped into Will as they both scrabbled in the dark for the light switch. Her fingers brushed his and they both stopped. Lisa froze, the brief touch making her heart ache. Nothing had changed, in fact, if anything, it was worse. After today, she probably loved Will more than she had nine months ago.
In the quick flare of light, she caught a quick glimpse of Will’s face screwed up in pain.
She went to touch his arm. ‘Oh Will, you really are suffering.’
To her surprise, he flinched.
‘Are you sure you don’t want a painkiller?’
‘No,’ he growled. ‘I just need some peace and quiet.’ And with that he went into his bedroom and shut the door.
Chapter 19
‘Mornin …’ Lisa’s voice trailed away.
‘Buon giorno.’ Gisella gave her a casual wave from her seat at the breakfast table, where she and Will had their heads together, poring over a map.
‘Morning,’ said Will, a shade too cheerily.
Clearly his headache had gone. She stood, awkward for a second, feeling she’d wandered onto a stage mid-act without a part to play.
Where had Gisella popped up from? Will hadn’t mentioned her yesterday. Lisa felt as if she were sifting through lots of different bits of information and nothing was making sense.
Ignoring the sudden hideous pang in her chest, she helped herself to a coffee, deciding she’d take it back to her room.
‘How are you enjoying Rome?’ Looking perfectly at home sitting next to Will sipping coffee, Gisella crossed her legs, admiring her own expensive leather pumps.
Lisa could hardly be rude to her, even though every part of her urged her to run away and hide. ‘It’s a lovely city. So much to see,’ she said stiffly, hoping she could make a quick escape.
‘It is. Even I haven’t visited everything.’ She lowered her voice, managing to sound daring and sultry at the same time, ‘I’ve never seen the Sistine Chapel.’ She tossed her hair over her shoulder. ‘Always too busy.’
Her? Or the museum?
‘It’s full of tourists,’ Gisella pursed her mouth and then brightened, ‘but you should go.’
‘Thanks,’ said Lisa, sudden anger firing through her at the casual dismissal.
‘Where are you going today?’ asked Gisella, but before Lisa could answer the other girl pronounced rather grandly, ‘Will and I are going to a tasting. At Virginnies.’
Lisa shot a look at Will. He was studying the contents of his coffee cup as if it held the secrets to the known universe.
‘I’m … I’m not sure.’ The pang in her chest turned into full-blown pain. It seemed things had changed somewhat since yesterday.
Will looked up sharply, his stern expression softening for a second, before saying, ‘You can come too if you want, but I think you’d find it deadly boring.’
Funny, he hadn’t thought that yesterday, when he’d urged her to try the fig balsamic and bought a bottle of it. And what about the trip to the wine estate afterwards? Her toes gripped the floor, as if anchoring herself to the spot, despite the fact she wanted to flee. How stupid could she be?
Gisella laughed. ‘I’m sure Lina—’
‘Lisa,’ she said sharply, pushing her shoulders back, icy calm hiding the furious emotions beneath. Will could take whoever he liked, it wasn’t as if he was her … well, her anything. He’d taken pity on her yesterday when he’d helped her with her dad. He had things of his own to do.
The girl waved her hands in a casual whatever dismissal. ‘I’m sure she doesn’t want to come with us.’
And if it were going to be so dull, why was the Italian girl so keen to go? She certainly didn’t look dressed for a vinegar-tasting in her white ankle-skimming jeans and scarlet blousey t-shirt that kept slipping off smooth, brown shoulders. For a second Lisa felt like the second scullery maid below-stairs. Bugger it, she didn’t want to spend a minute more than she had to with Will, but there was no way she was going to let Gisella make her feel like a second-class citizen.
‘Actually.’ Lisa tossed her hair, which was longer and thicker and blonder than Gisella’s, over her shoulder. ‘I think that would be fascinating. Like you say, anyone can go to the Sistine Chapel.’
Gisella frowned. Clearly she’d meant no such thing.
‘When will I ever get the chance to do a balsamic-vinegar tasting again?’
Lisa didn’t dare look at Will’s face as she flounced out of the room.
‘You’ll have to go in the back seat,’ said Gisella primly, not making any move to clear the rubbish strewn across every inch of the seat. ‘I wasn’t expecting an extra passenger.’
‘No, that’s absolutely fine,’ said Lisa, with a graciousness that wasn’t deserved, clearing herself a space.
Will heaved an internal sigh. He should have known this was a bad idea. Calling Gisella last night had been a knee-jerk reaction and he was an idiot.
As they drove through the chaotic traffic to the outskirts of Rome, Gisella talked non-stop in a low, musical voice, pitched to exclude Lisa in the back.
‘Now, the Fabriganzi, they specialise in seafood.’ She laid a hand on his knee. ‘You would love it. There’s a two-week waiting list for a table, but I could get us a table for dinner there.’
He wished she’d stop giving him that sultry look and focus on the road. Her driving, even by local standards, was atrocious.
‘Or there’s the Odin, awarded two Michelin stars last month. I know the chef, Gino Lorenzini, fabulous cook, dreadful lover. But then, maybe not,’ she winced and threw the car around a corner in a last-minute swerve that almost had it up on two wheels, ‘seeing as he’s not speaking to me after I went out for dinner with his closest rival, Georgio. Now he is good at both.’
Michelin stars had obviously taken the places of notches on Gisella’s bedpost.
‘I’ll give Georgio a ring. I’m sure he could fit us in as a special favour.’ She gave him an arch look. ‘After all, you owe me dinner. How was dinner with the family formaggio? Provincial? Don’t worry,’ she patted his knee, her hand sliding up his thigh, ‘Giorgio’s place is very sophisticated.’
Will’s jaw tightened and the hairs on the back of his neck stood up. He could sense Lisa in the back listening to every word. For some reason, Gisella’s seasoned flirting made him feel a bit embarrassed. God only knew why? That had been the whole point of inviting her today. He could play this game in his sleep. Usually he’d find it easy to flirt back, keep things light and see where they went. Which was why that night with Lisa had been so scary. She made him feel something that he hadn’t thought he was capable of.
‘I’ve got more visits lined up. We’ll have to see. I might not have time,’ he replied stiffly, aware of Lisa’s silence behind him.
Gisella didn’t do rebuffs. She simply squeezed his leg, her fingers inching up his inside leg. ‘You can always make time,’ she said in the sort of throaty voice that might be described as a purr and belonged in a very adult film.
It was a blessed relief to get out of the car when they arrived at Virginnies, a series of dark cellars under the arches of a railway bridge.
Lisa uncoiled herself from the back of the car and when he held the door open for her to clamber out of the back, she shot him a look of utter scorn, her nose tilting in the air.
Damn it. He glared at her and stepped back to let her pass, holding his hand out to help steady her. She pointedly ignored the hand, keeping her distance, as if he had some nasty disease, and turned her back on him.
The scent of her light perfume mingled with sun lotion brought back an image of her on the Spanish Steps, his hands sliding over her soft skin.
It sparked a flutter low in his belly. Damn. Yesterday had started with low expectations. A truce to get through the day, but at some point in the morning, resigned companionship had passed some indefinable line and moved into that comfortable, flirty comradeship they’d previously enjoyed. When she’d made the revelations about her father, he’d had to help her. He understood that type of rejection and her need to find out why her father had left.
From the moment, she’d realised her father wasn’t there his emotions had been pitched into turmoil, self-preservation fighting the need to reassure her, show her she wasn’t alone. Or maybe he’d realised how alone he was and that it didn’t feel that great.
This morning he felt as if he’d been pitched into a complicated dance without knowing the right moves, but unfortunately he had no one to blame but himself.
The tasting was in full flow when they entered through high arched wooden doors into the cool interior, where the oils and vinegars had been laid out on long trestle tables in labelled and numbered dishes alongside detailed tasting notes.
‘Signor Manelli, good to meet you at last.’ Will had been exchanging emails with him for the last few days.
‘Call me Franco. Good to meet you too. And Gisella, always a pleasure, and who is this young lady?’ He pronounced it younga, which brought a ready smile from Lisa.
‘This is Lisa, my …’ he paused, a prickle down his spine as he looked up to see both women watching him – Lisa with a distinct look of challenge on her face, Gisella’s expression was cooler but slightly narrow-eyed. ‘She was staying with my work colleague, Giovanni, who unfortunately had to attend to a family matter.’ And since when had he started to talk like some nineteenth-century nobleman? Lisa’s head dipped and she seemed to be making a detailed study of her toes.
‘It is a pleasure to meet you, Lisa. I hope that you will enjoy yourself. We have arranged some excellent products for you to try.’
‘Oh, don’t worry. Will’s the expert,’ she shot him a chilly ice-maiden smile, ‘especially at sampling lots of things at once,’ she said airily, before adding, ‘I’m completely in the dark. I have no idea what is going on.’