One Summer in Italy

by Sue Moorcroft

  Between spoonfuls of his own delicious tart-but-sweet lemon ice-cream Levi recounted the story of Octavia hitting on him so hard then moving on to Wes without, apparently, missing a beat.

  Sofia listened, dark brown eyes thoughtful. She finished her bacio, wiped her fingers on her paper napkin and sat back. ‘Did you know her before she found your phone?’

  ‘Not that I remember. But Bettsbrough’s a small town so it’s possible. Dad owns a garage and I worked there during the holidays when I was younger. I must have met a lot of his customers over time.’

  ‘But that’s not where you work now?’

  ‘Yes and no. My office is above my dad’s garage, but it’s just rented from Gunn’s Motors. My brother Tyrone works for the business itself.’

  ‘You didn’t go to the same school?’

  ‘I don’t think so. She’s several years older than I am, probably early to mid-forties.’

  Sofia raised an eyebrow as she reached for the water to top up their glasses. ‘So she’s a polyamorous techie who doesn’t see anything wrong in making her desires known, fancied both of you and so went for it. If everyone concerned is single then she hasn’t actually done anything wrong.’

  Levi heaved a sigh of relief at her no-nonsense summation. ‘Thank you.’

  Her eyes began to dance. ‘Or she’s a right old bunny-boiler who took one look at you, became violently infatuated and is infiltrating every aspect of your life, even to the extent of granting sexual access to your best friend in an effort to stay close to you and/or make you jealous.’

  ‘Shit.’ He contemplated her. ‘Do you think it’s that?’

  She shrugged. ‘Not really. If you’re positive you’ve never met until she found your phone I’d say the most likely explanation is that Octavia’s simply an oddball who falls suddenly for men and equally suddenly gets over them. Or she’s been single too long and is getting a bit desperate to couple up.’

  Levi made no reply, mainly because he couldn’t think of a polite way of saying ‘Yeuch.’

  As she cleared tables, the sun hot on her neck, Amy watched Sofia and Levi together. She liked them both. They’d stuck up for her right at the beginning when she hadn’t known how to handle creepy Davide. Sofia had even taken charge when Amy had been a wuss last night about the climbing plant tapping at her window in the breeze.

  When she’d first arrived in Montelibertà she’d felt such a kid, panicking at an unknown or unfamiliar situation at least twice a day, teetering on the point of packing her bags and running back to Neufahrn bei Freising. Only the unexpected kindness she’d met from Sofia and Levi – and the memory of the mess she’d left behind her at home – had enabled her to stick it out in Italy. Now she was actually beginning to enjoy it. Two new servers had been taken on, Matteo and Noemi, local teens who’d finished their exams, as Amy should have now it was June, the staff growing in line with increasing visitor numbers as the tourist trade moved towards high season.

  Brought up in a tourist town, both spoke good English, and they’d invited Amy out tonight to where the local young adults went to chill.

  Amy felt as if it had been months rather than weeks since she’d talked properly to someone of her own age group and was really looking forward to it, much as she liked ‘doing lunch’ with Sofia or stopping for a quick chat with Levi when he turned up in Il Giardino.

  She felt a sudden urge to do something for Sofia and Levi, for being so nice to her. Glancing around to check none of her tables seemed in imminent need of her attention, she hurried over to a waiter she liked, Thomas, and whispered that she was going for a comfort break. Thomas nodded and Amy ran down to her accommodation, grabbed a twenty-euro note and hurried back to the staff access to the reception area. There she paused, cracking open the door to check neither Davide nor Benedetta were around and that Aurora wasn’t dealing with a guest. Seeing the coast clear she tiptoed across to the reception desk.

  ‘Aurora,’ she whispered. ‘Do you still have tickets for that thing tonight in town?’

  Aurora, who’d raised her eyebrows at seeing Amy in reception when she ought to be serving in Il Giardino, gave a nod, brow clearing. ‘The boar roast? Yes, I have five unsold.’

  Amy swiftly thrust the twenty euros at her. ‘Two please.’

  In ten seconds the tickets were in her apron pocket and she was back in Il Giardino, glad to see that Sofia was still talking to Levi. Grabbing up a tray, she arrived again at their table. Feeling grown up to be doing something nice for someone else, which was something Mum suggested to her a lot, she swept up their coffee cups and ice-cream dishes, then, balancing the tray on the table, dug in the pocket of her apron for the bright yellow tickets and dropped one in front of each of them.

  ‘This is for being so nice to me,’ she gabbled, before she could lose her nerve. ‘I hope you have a good time.’ Then, cheeks scorching, she beamed at the two astonished faces and hurried off to dump her crocks at the kitchen hatch. Mum had been right. Doing something unexpected for someone else gave you a definite case of the warm and fuzzies.

  Chapter Eight

  Slowly, Sofia picked up one of the pieces of yellow card from the table. ‘These are tickets for a boar roast.’

  ‘Tonight,’ Levi confirmed, picking up the other.

  Catching sight of his expression of amazement, Sofia snorted a giggle. ‘Is Amy trying to fix us up?’

  As Amy could at any moment look around from where she was taking an order at a table near the bar, Sofia clamped her hand over her mouth to prevent more giggles escaping, but the chagrin that Levi must be feeling if he was harbouring an age-gap crush on Amy struck her as hysterical. Not to mention that they’d ended yesterday evening by snapping at each other.

  ‘She must be!’ Outrage stole across his face. ‘Does she think I can’t get my own dates?’

  Sofia’s shoulders shook. ‘At least it’s not with Octavia,’ she gasped.

  ‘That isn’t even funny,’ he protested, but answering laughter leaped into his eyes.

  Sofia saw Amy begin to turn from the customers she’d been serving and yanked her face straight. ‘Look, the tickets cost ten euros each. If we don’t go, we’ll hurt her feelings. But of course it’s awkward,’ she added, flushing at the flash of surprise in his eyes.

  The surprise was swiftly replaced by a spark of challenge. ‘It’s only awkward if you make it awkward. Shall I call for you or will you call for me?’

  ‘We’ll have to meet down the hill,’ Sofia said. She was so glad he wasn’t making her doubt him again – by sulking that it wasn’t Levi and Amy going together – that she took up the challenge. ‘Have you noticed that house on the right with all those galvanised buckets full of lavender? Let’s meet there, at eight so it doesn’t look too obvious that I’m bending Benedetta’s staff/guest rule. I want this job … for now.’ She was hoping, belatedly, that she wouldn’t get caught out and find the letter of the rule applied.

  Thoughts of her so far unknown uncle fleeted across her mind. She intended to meet him before she left Montelibertà and she felt as if Sunday, when Ernesto hoped to make contact with him on her behalf, would never come. She tucked her ticket into her purse and pulled out enough euros to cover her share of the bill. ‘I’ll thank Amy when I pass her because I think we were both too stunned to do more than gape.’

  ‘OK.’ He picked up his ticket. ‘See you later.’

  Sofia didn’t return to taming the mighty creeper after she’d thanked Amy and been rewarded with a wide smile of delight. Not for anything would she let her friend think Sofia was the least bit nonplussed at being set up with Levi. Nor remind her about Benedetta’s rule.

  She refused to hurt Amy by not going to the boar roast. She really liked the slight girl and the way she’d toughed out her first couple of weeks in Italy. Sofia would make an effort not to fall out with Levi tonight, even wearing that slinky scarlet number as practice for when she could go out and meet that one-night stand she still hadn’t had.

&n
bsp; It absolutely wasn’t a matter of showing him what he was missing. Obviously.

  As Sofia approached the house with the lavender just after eight she could see Levi already waiting, idly watching the passing traffic. Then he glanced up the hill and she knew the moment he picked her out from the other pedestrians, straightening slowly and regarding her with a fixed stare.

  Suddenly, Sofia felt acutely self-conscious. It was as if she would stumble out of her sassy medium-heel mules at any moment and her dress felt indecently short and clingy. But it was too late to rue her bold choice of outfit. Forcing herself to keep her head high, she sauntered up as if a man waiting for her was an everyday occurrence.

  Levi’s golden-brown eyes followed every step.

  ‘Hope you haven’t been waiting too long,’ she managed, pleased when the greeting emerged neither shrill nor breathless.

  His smile was slow. ‘No. I came down ten minutes early to make certain your employer had no reason to suspect you of having designs on a resident.’

  ‘Thanks.’ At this reminder, she cast back a quick glance as if expecting to see Benedetta rushing down to sack her.

  ‘I checked out Trattoria Bianca, the venue, and it’s just off Piazza Roma.’

  ‘Great.’ She waited for him to turn around so they could move off in the right direction. Instead, he gazed at her, seemingly lost in thought.

  ‘Piazza Roma’s that way.’ She pointed behind him.

  ‘Oh. Yes.’ He turned swiftly. He still didn’t start walking but lifted the elbow closest to her and she realised he was inviting her to take his arm. It was a charming gesture, almost courtly, and she felt acutely aware of him as she placed her hand on his bare skin. She just hoped her hand wouldn’t get hot enough to sweat as they fell into step.

  Happily, it took only a few minutes to stroll to Trattoria Bianca and within its thick stone walls the temperature was a few degrees cooler. Even better, the boar roast was taking place in a function room with its own shaded courtyard at the rear of the building. They were shown to a table for two on the edges of the courtyard and quickly served with a tall bottle of cold water and a jug of white wine.

  Their waiter was a man in his late twenties who treated them to a beaming smile. The event was definitely aimed at tourists and he addressed them in English. ‘From nine, the platters of meat will be brought out, and many salads and bread. Please take your plates and our chefs will be happy to serve you. If you would like more water or wine, please let me know.’

  Sofia smiled back. ‘Grazie mille.’

  He turned his smile directly on her. ‘Prego.’ And then whisked away.

  ‘I think you made a hit there.’ Levi filled Sofia’s wine glass before attending to his own. ‘He was dazzled.’

  ‘He was doing his job,’ she protested mildly, taking a sip from the wine, which was OK considering it came in a jug. ‘Having been on the wrong end of too many surly customers I’m always as pleasant to other servers as humanly possible.’ But she glanced at the waiter’s retreating back, quite liking the idea that she could dazzle anyone. She crossed her legs to allow her hem to ride up another inch or two. This being free and adventurous lark was fun.

  ‘There’s dazzling,’ Levi murmured, his eyes following the movement of her legs, ‘and then there’s heart attack.’

  She smiled serenely. ‘I might want to give someone a heart attack. Not a real one, obviously,’ she amended when his eyes widened. ‘I mean figuratively. To get the kind of reaction you read about in books – making someone’s heart race, rendering them temporarily speechless. That kind of thing.’

  ‘Thanks for the clarification. It’s good to have goals.’

  She laughed. ‘My dad certainly thought so. He gave me a whole list.’ She began to count her promises to Aldo on her fingers. ‘Don’t mope, do act like a young single woman, visit Montelibertà, lay flowers for my grandparents, search out my uncle with a message and—’ she pinned on a bright smile because she could feel her eyes burning as she thought of Aldo ‘—be happy!’

  He listened intently, as if he really wanted to know. ‘I know you’re finding the one about moping hard. How are you doing with the others?’ His eyes didn’t look their usual light blue under the strings of lights that had glowed into life as dusk deepened to night – they were several shades darker.

  Quelling the sadness that threatened to rise up inside her as she spoke about her father, she said, ‘I’m doing my best to enjoy being young and single – I sort of have my own subheadings for that one. And I’ve taken flowers for my grandparents.’ She told him about Ernesto’s kindness, concluding, ‘So I’m not-very-patiently waiting for my uncle to seek me out. If he doesn’t, I suppose I have to try and find out where he lives. I promised Dad I’d pass on a message.’

  ‘Do you think Gianni seriously won’t want to meet his own niece?’ Levi’s brows drew down over his eyes.

  ‘Well—’ Sofia took a draught of her wine, because the prospect of her uncle not wanting to even meet her once was pretty damned sad. ‘I’ll find out, won’t I? I’ve searched for him online but drawn a blank apart from a mention or two connected with the church. I’ll just have to hope Ernesto sees him on Sunday. Only another couple of days to wait, I suppose.’ Deliberately, she turned the conversation. ‘Do you know that Benedetta once had to choose between her husband and Casa Felice – and chose the hotel?’

  Levi lounged in his chair as if mirroring, with his body language, her wish to lighten up. ‘How intriguing.’

  ‘One of the local staff told me.’ Sofia felt herself begin to unwind with the recent wine-hit. ‘He wanted her to sell up because he said Casa Felice was slowly killing him. She refused, which I think was pretty gutsy of her, and just worked harder than ever to make up the lack when he left.’ She gurgled with laughter. ‘Apparently, the consensus is that Aurora inherited her work ethic from her mother – and Davide from his father.’

  It wasn’t the only thing they laughed about as the evening got into full swing. They laughed about a chef in a tall hat almost filling Sofia’s plate with a huge slice of crispy pork, murmuring, ‘Bella signorina’,’ and giving her a lewd wink. Sofia swapped plates with Levi as soon as the chef turned to the next person.

  They laughed at an English lady claiming the centre of the dancefloor to perform an energetic twist when the band began to play, and, in a whisper, Sofia taught Levi the phrase Signora Turista for ‘Mrs Tourist’. Then, well down their second jug of wine, they joined her in her gyrations and the woman wrapped herself around Levi and tried to persuade him to try the lambada to the energetic Latin dance music, at which Sofia had to sit down to weep with laughter at Levi’s expression of dismay.

  Eventually Signora Turista good-naturedly gave Levi back. ‘Thanks for lending me yer man, my lovely. You can dance with him now.’ With total lack of ceremony she hauled Sofia to her feet and shoved her into Levi’s arms, whooping with laughter. ‘Don’t let a handsome man go to waste! Get a grip!’ And she grabbed Sofia’s hands again and clamped them to Levi’s bottom.

  Although Sofia stuttered at finding herself plastered so compromisingly against Levi’s body, he simply slid his hands down to her buttocks, murmuring, ‘I’m beginning to like Signora Turista,’ making Sofia blush like a poppy and hastily reposition her hands on his waist.

  At midnight, the band announced their last song. It was a ‘slowie’ and, as they were kind of in situ, Sofia and Levi remained on the dancefloor, no longer plastered together but not far apart.

  When the final notes died away, not knowing quite how to part company and whether the last dance still ended with a kiss as it had at the school Christmas party, which was possibly the last time she’d been able to stay till the end of something that included dancing, Sofia stepped back to execute a jokey curtsy. ‘Thank you, kind sir. I think we’ve made full use of Amy’s twenty euros.’

  Levi responded with a deep bow. ‘My pleasure.’

  The bar was still open and Levi suggested coffee
but Sofia shook her head regretfully. ‘I could murder a latte but I’m on the residents’ breakfast again tomorrow and it begins at six thirty.’

  Levi surprised her by taking her hand as they crossed the corner of Piazza Roma and headed for Via Virgilio, and Sofia found she wasn’t quite ready to re-enter real life by freeing herself. The evening air was a pleasant temperature with just enough breeze to lift tendrils of her hair where it escaped from its ponytail.

  Levi’s gaze was on her. ‘I’ve been racking my brains all evening. What are the sub-headings you’ve added to the promise you made to behave as a young single person should?’

  Taken by surprise at him remembering that throwaway line, Sofia laughed.

  He squeezed her hand. ‘You can’t just giggle knowingly but not spill the beans. It’s unkind.’

  The wine she’d drunk making her slightly reckless, Sofia arched her brows. ‘To be fiercely independent. Not to get tied down. Travel for at least the next two years. Get a tattoo – something delicate and elegant. Have a one-night stand.’

  One side of Levi’s mouth quirked up. ‘I can help you with the last one.’

  Sofia sighed. ‘I thought about it,’ she admitted, knowing already she’d regret her candour in the morning.

  His voice dropped. ‘We could begin with coffee in my room—’

  But Sofia was shaking her head before he could get to the end of his sentence. ‘I could get the sack.’

  ‘We could book into another hotel.’

  The slight lift at the end of the sentence made it a question rather than an answer. Sofia shook her head again. ‘Now you’re wandering into the realms of tacky.’

  He halted, bringing her around to face him so he could take her other hand. ‘You definitely deserve more than tack. You’re a beautiful woman, Sofia.’ He kissed her knuckles, sending a frisson up her spine, then set her free. ‘You go on up the hill so we’re not seen arriving back together. I’ll follow on.’

  Unsure of how to reply to such a fulsome compliment when she’d been so convinced of his interest in Amy, Sofia simply smiled her thanks and fell in with his suggestion. Conscious of his eyes on her rear view she was tempted to rush, but her medium-heel mules had turned to medium hell towards the end of the dancing and she had to be up on those feet for a seven-hour shift before six more hours had passed.