From Rome with Love

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From Rome with Love Page 24

by Jules Wake


  ‘The fountain?’

  ‘Yes. You’d have thought the pump was powered by electricity.’

  ‘I guess.’ Lisa felt a little shocked. Shame and humiliation warred for first place. There was indecent haste and indecent haste. Dorothea had clearly been desperate to get rid of them. ‘So no power cut.’

  ‘I don’t think so. Besides, she couldn’t get rid of us quickly enough.’

  ‘What changed?’

  Will snorted. ‘The only thing I can think of is that she spoke to my mother. Although why that would change anything …’

  Lisa thought for a minute. It made sense to her. Of course, it did. As soon as they’d left Dorothea would have got on the phone to her old friend. What could Eloise have said to her?

  What had Dorothea mentioned earlier? Eloise was a crashing snob. Had she raised an objection to Will getting together with her ex-cleaner’s granddaughter and insisted Dorothea refuse to put them up? It sounded positively archaic and a tad hypocritical, given what she now knew of Will’s parents’ morals. Neither of them had gold-plated reputations in that department. Without realising it, she’d stuck her nose up in the air. Eloise could think what she liked. Lisa had nothing to be ashamed of.

  As if reading her thoughts, Will reached out and took her hand, giving it a squeeze.

  ‘Her problem, not ours. Gives us a day to ourselves tomorrow. What do you fancy doing?’

  Determined to follow his lead, Lisa squeezed his hand back. ‘Haven’t you got any plans?’

  ‘I’ve got a meeting set up in the afternoon, but not until three. I’m all yours until then.’

  ‘What’s on the agenda? You’ve done wine, cheese, olive oil and vinegar.’ She was grateful that her voice didn’t give away the churning sensation in her stomach, like a washing machine on half spin.

  ‘I’m seeing a man about meat.’

  She couldn’t think of anything else to say. The conversation had grown stilted, fenced in with courtesy, as if to keep the undercurrent of unease between them at bay.

  ‘Where would you like to go?’

  Her mind had gone blank. Where did she want to go? Home? That seemed horribly cowardly, but the thought of her own little house suddenly seemed very appealing. She wasn’t cut out for this. She liked things straightforward. Nan’s direct speaking. This horrible sense of half-truth and intrigue made her long for home. A cup of tea. Knowing where she was and who she was.

  For some reason, she thought of Gisella. No doubt Eloise would approve of her. She was related to a Viscount, even if he was an Italian one.

  ‘The Sistine Chapel. I’m a tourist after all.’

  ‘Okay. The Sistine Chapel it is. We’ll need to get up early, beat the crowds.’

  They lapsed into silence, interspersed with the metallic computerised voice of the hire car’s GPS, which decided to take them home via the most direct route, taking them along a series of ever-diminishing roads, along tortuous single tracks, running along steep-sided hills.

  Even Will’s knuckles turned white as they gripped the steering wheel, easing the car with great care around the hairpin bends. It might have been picturesque, with turnings from the road, promising hidden homes and villas down death-defying tracks, so steep it was a miracle a car could get up or down them, and jaw-dropping views of rocky outcrops dotted with trees, but Lisa could barely bring herself to look beyond the dashboard for more than five seconds at a time.

  ‘Are you okay?’ asked Will when the road flattened out briefly, a new incline already rearing ahead of them.

  ‘Fine.’ A sheen of sweat pooled at the base of her spine but she gritted her teeth. ‘You?’

  ‘I could do with a break. Do you mind if we stop? We’re not that far from Rome now. And there’s a village up ahead. I’ve heard of it. Famous for its square. We could stop here for dinner.’

  Lisa let out a wobbly sigh. ‘Yes please.’

  Peeling her hand from where it clutched her knee, she touched the back of his hand on the steering wheel in gratitude. He didn’t try to make light of her fears or dismiss them.

  ‘It’s not much further.’ He shot her his lopsided grin. ‘We could talk about Giovanni. Have you heard from him at all? Are you missing him?’

  She let out a strangled laugh, remembering him winding her up on the plane at Luton, deliberately taking her mind off things. ‘No. And no. Not a word.’

  ‘Told you. Mama’s boy.’

  ‘Does it make you happy being right?’

  ‘Yes.’ His voice dropped, a husky undertone giving it a world of extra meaning.

  It warmed her. Will hadn’t done anything wrong. Like he said, whatever had happened back at the villa wasn’t their problem.

  ‘Because then he wouldn’t have cleared off and left you for me.’

  ‘Oh.’

  Will gave a soft laugh. ‘It took me a while to admit that I …’ he laughed again, ‘that I couldn’t bear the thought of him taking you to Rome. I don’t know how I managed to kid myself that this was purely a convenient time for a business trip.’

  ‘You were jealous?’

  ‘Extremely, except I didn’t realise it at the time. Too busy persuading myself that I knew what was right for you.’

  ‘Arrogant.’

  ‘Always.’

  ‘Don’t sound so proud of it,’ she retorted while basking in the shot of feminine satisfaction at his admission. ‘It’s not a nice trait.’ But an arrogant man wouldn’t try so hard to distract her or make her think of something other than the sheer drop on her right.

  He shrugged, but she caught the hint of a smile on his face.

  ‘Hallelujah. One kilometre to go. I think we can make it. And then I’ll buy you a stiff drink.’

  When they pulled into the village, she wanted to fling the car door open and kiss the ground.

  ‘It’s a very popular village.’ He pointed up the hill to the crumbling remains of some ancient structure. ‘Once a medieval hill fort. Tourists come out here in coach parties to see the sunset.’

  She took a picture of Will perched on the low stone wall, Rome shimmering in the distance behind him before they walked down a stony track into the centre of the village.

  The track opened out to a pretty and surprisingly lively village square, with several restaurants, already rather busy, edging the square with a fountain spurting water out of a lion’s head and cobbled paths crossing the central area.

  ‘Gosh, spoilt for choice. Where do you fancy having a drink?’ he asked.

  ‘You’re the expert.’ See, not arrogant at all. An arrogant person would decide without recourse to her.

  ‘No, I want you to choose and then tell me why.’

  ‘Gosh it’s a constant market-research project with you.’

  ‘Why not? You’re a potential customer.’

  ‘Don’t you want posh people with lots of money?’

  Will’s searching look made her turn away.

  ‘You have quite an inferiority complex, don’t you?’

  ‘Not really.’ Will’s disbelieving frown made her feel defensive.

  ‘I don’t come from the same sort of background as you or mix in your sort of circles. Look at Dorothea and Charles. Your mother and father.’

  Will’s bark of sharp laughter made her start. ‘Those two are living out here in faded splendour because it’s a damn sight cheaper than living in London and trying to keep up with the hyphen-Joneses. The reason Charles drives a vintage Mercedes is because it’s still going.

  ‘And my parents are up to their necks in debt.’

  ‘It’s not the money, though, is it. It’s that superior,’ she shrugged, ‘entitled attitude. They expect everything to be a certain way.’ She turned her attention to a board outside one of the many restaurants edging the square.

  They perused each menu in turn. The prices were comparable, nothing too expensive.

  ‘Which one do you fancy?’ asked Will.

  ‘That one.’ Lisa pointed.

  �
�Why?’

  She laughed. ‘Because I like the look of the chairs.’

  ‘Seriously?’

  ‘No. It’s closest to the fountain and it’s the busiest. And people are drinking, rather than eating.’ Lisa’s beautiful smile flooded her face and he wanted to capture that moment for ever.

  ‘I’ve taught you well.’ He threaded his arm through hers and they crossed the open square. A rush of something hit him, like a freak wave picking up his heart and tossing it over and over, through the surf, until he could barely breathe.

  Damn. He’d been trying to tell himself that the warm, crazy feelings jumping about like jitterbugs were down to pure sexual attraction, but now he wasn’t sure. When he’d said he might be in love with her, it had been an honest response, not wanting to lie to her, but in that moment, he knew there was no might about it.

  Chapter 23

  Her phone, charged for once, beeped as they finished giving their order to the waiter. She frowned. ‘Damn, I missed a call. How did that happen?’

  ‘Probably no signal until now.’

  ‘Unknown number.’ She screwed up her face. ‘Plus three nine. That’s an odd number.’

  ‘It’s a local number. An Italian number …’ his voice trailed away.

  ‘Oh!’ Lisa fumbled for her phone, snatching it up. ‘Oh my God,’ she breathed. ‘They left a message. Do you think it’s him?’ Her voice dipped to a bare whisper and she held the phone up.

  ‘Are you going to listen? Or wave the phone at me?’ Will eased it from her fingers, putting it down on the table. ‘Do you want a moment on your own to listen?’

  Her head shot up. ‘No!’ She placed a hand on the phone. ‘No, I don’t. You came with me.’ She winced. ‘I think I’m too scared to listen. What if he tells me to bugger off? That he wants nothing to do with me?’

  ‘Then he’s a bloody idiot,’ said Will, thinking that he’d personally beat the guy to pulp if he said anything to upset her.

  Her hand stroked the phone, her fingers sliding backwards and forwards.

  ‘Oh God, I feel sick.’ She gulped in air. ‘This is crazy.’ She picked up the phone.

  He could hear quite clearly, even though she held the phone to her ear, her face full of trepidation as she listened intently.

  ‘Lisa, this is Vittorio Vettese. How lovely of you to call to see me. I would be delighted to meet with you. I’m back in Rome for two days before I travel again.’

  She put the phone down with a thud on the table.

  ‘He called.’ She half-laughed. ‘I never thought he would. I can’t believe it. I spoke to my dad. Well, he spoke to me.’ Unshed tears verged on spilling over. ‘He only went and bloody called.’

  It was as if she’d been lit up from inside, all shiny and brilliant. ‘Oh Will. He called.’

  He took her hand. ‘He certainly did.’

  She suddenly bit her lip and looked not … guilty but … up to something.

  ‘I didn’t tell you before.’ She beamed, triumphant and sparkling with happiness. ‘And I didn’t tell him. I wanted him to see me, for me and not because he wanted this back.’

  Will had absolutely no idea what she was talking about.

  She delved into her handbag and pulled out a box – a jewellery box – and placed it on the table between them, flipping open the lid.

  He’d never seen a ring quite like it. Probably antique. Unusual and, judging by the size of the whacking great diamond in the middle of it, very valuable.

  ‘This was my mother’s engagement ring.’

  Will wasn’t sure what he should say. It was one of those awful, expectant moments, when it was obvious to everyone else but him, what needed to be said.

  ‘It’s … erm … very nice.’

  ‘She wanted it to go back to my father.’

  Will lifted his head, scanning her face and seeing the bewilderment in the lines etched into her forehead and around her mouth.

  ‘She didn’t want me to have it.’ There was a whole world of misery in the words, despite the bright brittle slash of her lips, which looked like a demonic facsimile of a chirpy smile.

  He took her hand. It felt cold. What did you say to that? Lisa wasn’t the sort of person to swallow a platitude.

  ‘That sucks.’

  At that she did really smile. ‘No shit. It hurts.’

  ‘How do you know she didn’t want you to have it?’

  ‘She wrote a letter asking for it to be returned to my dad. That’s fairly unequivocal, I’m thinking?’

  ‘Maybe it was a way of reaching out to him to remind him you still existed, if he’d left before.’

  ‘Is that supposed to make me feel better?’

  Will winced. ‘I don’t think there’s any way of making you feel better about it. He left. That makes him the bad guy. It’s crap that it makes you feel bad too.’

  Lisa sat back, lost in thought for a minute, her face suddenly brightening. ‘I’ve never thought about it like that before. I always wondered why he’d left. Why he didn’t love me and Mum enough to stay?’

  ‘He’s missed out.’ Will took her hand. ‘And look what you’ve achieved without him.’

  ‘I’m not sure about that.’ Lisa began fiddling with the edge of the tablecloth. ‘I’m not exactly Wonder Woman.’

  ‘Thank God. I never liked that outfit. Far too many sequins.’

  ‘You know what I mean.’ With a shrug. ‘You’re a budding restaurant entrepreneur. And the pub has been incredibly successful. It’s such an amazing achievement. Siena’s got big ambitions and Jason. Me, I love what I do, but it’s not a big career.’

  ‘But you love what you do. Isn’t that important? What do you feel like when you wake up and have to go to work?’

  ‘As long as Ofsted isn’t due, I can’t wait to get there. There’s always too much to do.’

  ‘And does the day drag? Are you watching the clock till home-time?’

  ‘You’re kidding. I haven’t got time to look at the clock. Half the time I haven’t got time to go to the loo.’

  ‘And what’s the best part of your day?’

  ‘When the children come tumbling in, in the morning, trying to get their coats off in the cloakroom. It’s a complete bunfight, but they’re all keen and shiny and clean. Like little stars buzzing about, all fired up and ready to go.’ Lisa glowed as she spoke a mile a minute, making Will grin.

  ‘Except Fraser. He’s always half asleep, clutching his blanket. And Noah, scruffy as the artful dodger from the minute he arrives. I’m going to miss this year’s lot. We’ve got some funny ones coming through.’ She stopped to take a breath and noticed him laughing at her.

  ‘Okay, I really love my job.’

  ‘And not many people can say that. They might enjoy their jobs, but you love yours. And let’s face it, you’re doing something positive. Your job counts. Much as I love feeding people and giving them a satisfying experience, I’m not exactly contributing to the future of humanity. No one is ever going to say, I remember that Will Ryan, his restaurant changed my life. Whereas I suspect those children will remember Miss Vettese for years to come. I think that counts for a lot more than running a restaurant, writing a fashion blog or brewing beer, quite frankly.’

  ‘Thank you. No one’s ever made me feel quite so noble.’ As usual Lisa took refuge in self-deprecation. ‘But I’ll still never be successful like you. I really admire that.’

  ‘I don’t think you’re noble.’ He let a tinge of irritation colour his words. ‘You’re honest. And genuine. My parents, well they might not be dishonest but they’re shallow. Always flitting to the next thing. Dad did something in the City briefly. Made his money but lived beyond his means. He and Mum lived in cloud-cuckoo land. Always chasing the next thing that would make them happy. Almost as if stopping and slowing down would remove the blinkers. It was exhausting to live with. Your Nan was about the only thing that anchored me and Alice. We were gutted when she left.’

  ‘Really?’ She looked
sceptical. ‘But she was only the cleaner.’

  ‘Like that mattered. She was important to us, because even though she wasn’t particularly demonstrative she was a constant. And God knows, we needed one.’

  Her hand touched his in silent sympathy. She had an innate ability to know when to soothe him.

  ‘We knew where we were with her. Except when she upped and left.’

  ‘She didn’t have a choice,’ said Lisa with a snort, pulling away. ‘You know they didn’t pay her for the last three months. She stuck it out for you and Alice, but we had to eat.’

  Will was horrified. ‘I had no idea!’

  ‘And your Mum refused to give her references.’

  Shame washed over him and he let out an angry sigh. ‘I’m so sorry.’

  ‘Why? It’s not your fault. Why should you be blamed for something your parents did? It’s not as if you had any control over what they did.’

  ‘True. Control was in short supply where they were concerned. Self-control. No wonder your Nan didn’t want me to have anything to …’ He trailed off feebly. No. No. What to say? How to retrieve the sentence? But he couldn’t think of a single word say apart from the obvious. ‘To do with you.’

  Lisa’s lifted her head, like a dog scenting a fox.

  Damn. Even her nose quivered with terrier-like curiosity.

  ‘Since when?’

  ‘Well …’ All the backtracking in the world wasn’t going to recover this one but he was going to do his absolute best. ‘She’s never liked me.’

  ‘That’s rubbish.’ Lisa smiled as if he were being ridiculous.

  ‘She doesn’t approve of me.’

  ‘I’m sure she doesn’t but … since when has that bothered you?’

  In for a penny. It was that moment standing on a precipice, did he or didn’t he jump? Should he finally tell her the truth?

  ‘You know I didn’t call you after that night.’

  ‘Yes, I …’ Her breath suddenly caught and the words paused in her half-parted lips. It showed a world of hurt and bewilderment, making the shame wash up again. He reached out and laid a gentle finger on her lips.

  ‘Which I regret so much, but there was a reason.’

  Everything receded, life around them a dull hush as they stared at each other, each recalling the notes and beats of that night. A night that had stuck in his memory, a fork in the road, where there’d been two choices and he’d taken the wrong one. A night where friendship and more had briefly shimmered with so much promise.

 

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