He winced at the memory. ‘Thank goodness you were standing up for her. If she’d got the sack she might have headed home – but what if she hadn’t? What if I’d been too late and she’d gone off somewhere, homeless and jobless, trying to find a way to survive?’
Sofia gave a shiver. ‘I don’t want to even think about that. She’s a lovely kid but I agree she’s not worldly wise. This whole episode must seem unreal to you.’
Croakily, he laughed. ‘For the last two weeks my life has felt like something you’d read about happening to someone else. I don’t feel like a parent. Or, at least, I don’t think I do but I can’t be sure, never having been one. But I do feel protective of Amy. I’m proud of her surviving a bombshell exploding in her life. Freya sent pictures to my phone so I could identify her but it still didn’t seem true then. When I saw her in reality I felt this big rush of … I don’t know what else to call it but love.’
Sofia grinned. Her plait was hanging over one shoulder, fat and glossy. ‘Now I can see why you’ve stuck around, watching her all the time.’
‘I hadn’t realised I’d been so obvious. The fact that this person wouldn’t be on the planet if not for me fascinates me. I have a strong urge to be near her, so I can understand why you thought I was some old letch.’
Her grin faded. ‘Now I know the whole story I know you never were acting like a letch. I think you might be acting like a parent.’
His heart leaped like a fish on a line. ‘I don’t feel nearly grown-up enough to be that.’
She laughed. ‘I wonder if anyone ever does?’
They fell silent. Insects buzzed around the tiny blue flowers, flitted through the wiry grass and occasionally fluttered against his skin. Even the breeze was hot as it brushed tendrils of Sofia’s hair across her cheek and rustled the trees behind them. Distant voices elsewhere in the park were the only indications that they were not alone on the planet. The world had seemed to shrink to this clearing as he’d relived his story but now he focused on the peaks and valleys laid out before him, half surprised to remember they were there.
Sofia shifted her position, releasing his hand as if she too had just remembered where she was. ‘Do you see yourself in her? Or is she like her mother?’
He laughed. ‘I don’t know Freya very well but when I first met Amy I thought that’s where she got her impulsiveness. I’m not afraid to act when I think it’s necessary, but not in the act-first-think-later manner of Amy and Freya. Amy certainly has the courage of her convictions.’
She nodded thoughtfully. ‘So what about your life in England? You say there aren’t any baby Gunns or a Mrs Gunn at home, but isn’t there a business you should be running?’
‘There are three Mrs Gunns – Mum, Gran and my sister-in-law Beth. But you’re right about the business and I’m already worried about that. I can manage some actual work from my room, though the signal’s too in-and-out for my input to be reliable because I keep dropping the connection to the server. Wes’s managing the remote workers and until now he’s been the most even-tempered and predictable guy I’ve ever known. Now he’s being awkward and defensive. It’s thrown me a bit. I could seriously do without the whole Octavia situation.’
She stretched her legs and eased her back, making her top cling. ‘What kind of website business do you run? All I ever see you do is paint.’
He pulled his gaze away from the roundness of her breasts before she caught him sneaking a look. ‘I like to paint but it’s a hobby – and also supposedly the reason I’m here in Umbria, as Amy couldn’t be allowed to suspect that her mum had sent me.’ He took a breath because he always felt slightly odd at confessing the truth about his site. People tended to react in one of three ways – they’d never heard of it, which made him feel he’d made too much of an announcement; they disbelieved him, which made him feel annoyed; or they began to treat him differently, as if he had the money of Bill Gates or Mark Zuckerberg. He was doing more than OK but he was not one of the super-rich. ‘My business is The Moron Forum.’
‘The Moron Forum? Seriously? But that’s huge!’ Her eyes sparkled as if she was genuinely pleased for him. ‘There are links to The Moron Forum on social media every day. I used to read some of the funnier posts out to Dad.’
He felt himself relax as he realised she was going to be one of the rare people who would just take an intelligent interest. He was beginning to think Sofia was the most pragmatic person he’d met. ‘It began as a joke, a spoof of forums like Yahoo Answers where someone poses a question and others share their knowledge or experience. Wes and I developed websites in our day jobs. Sites like News Thump, which is full of parodies and satire, were doing really well, so we set out to appeal to people who like that kind of humour. People started signing up and chipping in with stupid answers. Social media loved it. It snowballed. We began taking The Moron Forum seriously as a second job. We developed an app for mobile devices and as well as the original “ask a stupid question, get a stupid answer” section we created areas for asking serious questions and getting stupid answers – where the knack is to make stupid answers look serious when they’re not. Then came “ask a stupid question get a sarcastic answer”. Some are so witty the site has a huge following. People log on via their phones at lunchtime or on their train commute just to have a bit of a smile during their day. We began to get content providers to write articles to begin conversational threads like the site How to Geek, so soon we had a whole bank of freelancers writing and moderating. We left our day jobs five years ago.’
‘Go you,’ she said admiringly. ‘I’m not surprised you’re wondering whether you’re grown-up enough to be a parent. How does this joking around make you money?’
‘Same as any site. Advertising. You get traffic, you get people paying to put their stuff in front of that traffic. Also, the online shop selling The Moron Forum merchandise is booming.’
‘And it makes you enough to live on?’
As she sounded as if she were having trouble grasping the magnitude of money to be made, he searched for a measure for his success, something easy to relate to. ‘I could probably retire now if I wanted to.’
‘Really?’ She gazed at him thoughtfully. Her dark eyes were sprinkled with bronze flecks, her hair glowing in the sunlight. With her golden skin it was no wonder he’d thought her a local when he’d first seen her – especially as she’d been speaking Italian with every bit as much hand-waving as Benedetta. She toyed with the end of her plait as she regarded him and he had to drag his gaze away from her stroking fingers because it made him wonder how they’d feel stroking him. Like most men, he preferred not to get caught with an erection except in precisely the right circumstances. Like if Sofia had taken him up on his willingness to be her first one-night stand—
‘I’m impressed all this comes from two techies sitting in a room over your dad’s garage,’ she went on, giving him something else to think about.
‘Developers.’ He drew up the knee closest to him to casually rest an arm on it and incidentally block her view of any visible excitement. ‘It does come from us but it involves remote workers all over the place. Media manager, forum moderators, designers to make stuff pretty, and several people handling the on-site advertising. And there’s the legal adviser we call on if we think a post might be a bit dodgy. We ask if a post is “too satirical” but we mean “Can we get sued?” And Mary, the bookkeeper—’
She took her hand away from her plait to make a halt gesture. ‘You’re frying my brain. You’ve spent a couple of weeks lazing around painting pretty pictures and ordering coffees from me, and now in the last hour you’ve sprung on me that you’re Amy’s dad and a dot-com mogul. Any other bombshells?’
He grinned and shrugged. ‘I’ll let you know if I think of one.’ But then an uncomfortable feeling took possession of his insides. ‘Erm … it’s never fair to share information with someone and then ask them afterwards not to pass it on to others but I really would prefer that I carry on being just a holidaymaker with a paintbox.
It doesn’t matter about The Moron Forum but Amy … I’d hate her to find out about our relationship the wrong way.’
All levity left Sofia’s expression. ‘Of course. How on earth are you going to tell her in the end?’
His stomach dropped. ‘I’m lying awake at nights worrying about it. I’m scared that if I tell her she might take off, knowing her mother must have sent me.’
‘I can see that’s a concern.’ Sofia wrinkled her nose.
‘I’m more use as a confidant than as a parent, someone to give her a few clues about dealing with pests like Davide.’
Sofia moved closer, laying her hand on his arm, making all the tiny hairs lift from his skin. ‘A dad can fulfil a lot of roles: confidant, mentor, shoulder and friend.’
He glanced at her hand, the slim fingers and clean nails. ‘OK. But at what point do I mention that I’ve been tricking her all the time? I’ve done what I thought best but whichever way you cut it I’ve been dishonest. Like her mum.’
She sighed. ‘There is that. She told me a little bit about being at loggerheads with her family and it’s obvious her feelings have been hurt. Now I know the whole tale I can understand what a horrible shock it was and why she feels betrayed.’
‘Yeah.’ He let his head tip back, eyes closing tiredly. ‘And Freya told me not to underestimate her and what she’ll do if pushed. Stephen said she’s like a firework –quietly fizzing until you get to that point of thinking nothing’s going to happen … but then she goes off with a bang.’
Sofia gave a soft laugh. ‘Certainly fits with what I’ve seen of her so far.’ She wriggled around so she could let herself down to lie full length on the grass.
Levi edged down to lie alongside her, throwing an arm across his forehead to create shade for his eyes. ‘There’s a very real chance that the time will never be right to tell her who I am, and that she might never know feels like a jab in the guts too. I’ve got myself in a bit of a corner.’
‘You have.’ Sofia hauled herself up on her elbow to look down into his face. He had to close one eye against the sun to look back at her. ‘One day she might decide she wants to know who her biological father is. What if Freya tells her? Or Stephen? Or she hires some agency to help her?’
His stomach lurched. ‘Those are all dangers too,’ he admitted. ‘I only booked into Casa Felice for a week originally and I’ve already been here ten days. Now I’m thinking that if I stay a bit longer the right situation will miraculously present itself. Maybe she’ll trust me and accept I had no choice but not to identify myself straightaway.’
Sofia rolled back onto the grass. ‘Maybe.’
He sighed so hard it tugged at his chest. Or maybe it was something to do with his heart. He’d heard that your child could have all kinds of extraordinary effects on that. ‘I’m in limbo. I can’t afford to tell her but can’t afford not to.’
Sofia didn’t offer any useful insight. Before much longer she checked her watch and said she had to get back to do laundry because she had no clean uniform ready for Monday. ‘And there’s always the chance that my uncle will turn up. Ernesto was expecting to see him at Sunday mass today.’ She sounded wistful, though she smiled.
Smiling through adversity seemed one of her things. Levi gave her hand a sympathetic squeeze. ‘Sorry. All I’ve done is witter on about my own worries. I hope that your uncle will show up soon and everything will be OK.’
She just rolled her eyes and grinned before tossing back her plait and turning to leave.
To pass the time that Sofia needed to get back to Casa Felice, Levi wandered through the park, enjoying the dappled shade as he followed the trails between the trees and the occasional glimpse of a peak to his right. The air smelled of pine, and families or serious hikers in walking boots smiled at him as they passed.
Eventually he found the entrance again and made his way down the hill. Then, acknowledging that his conversation with Sofia had at least crystallised in his mind that he couldn’t leave Amy yet, he went in to enquire at reception whether he could extend his stay when the current week ended.
A man served him whom he hadn’t encountered before, an older guy with slicked-back hair and black-rimmed glasses. He clicked his tongue and inspected his computer screen. ‘For one week, sir? I cannot offer you a superior room, as you presently have. It will be on the other side of the hotel, much smaller and with no balcony.’
Levi was glad to get a room at all in mid-June. ‘That’s fine,’ he said gratefully. ‘At least it’ll be less expensive.’
The man shook his head. ‘I’m sorry, sir. When you booked online you received our advanced booking room rate. But now …’ He spread his hands. ‘I regret that it will be more expensive.’
Levi accepted the situation, getting out his credit card without demur. Money was the least of his problems.
Chapter Ten
Sofia wasn’t unhappy to be back in Il Giardino for Monday’s and Tuesday’s evening shifts, though she found herself on edge in case her uncle made himself known.
He didn’t.
Wednesday and Thursday were her rest days this week. On Wednesday she jumped on the train to Orvieto to see the splendid white and black cathedral first hand, and as Amy finished work at six on Thursday they arranged a catch-up at Trattoria del Sole where they’d lunched last Tuesday. As it happened, Amy mentioned the arrangement in Levi’s hearing so Sofia took no responsibility when he turned up shortly after them and, citing a lack of free tables, asked if he could pull up a chair.
‘Why not?’ said Sofia cordially, happy to help further this odd father-daughter relationship. Poor Levi obviously felt a fish out of water so far as parenting went, and surely she and Amy were chaperoning each other, so no fraternisation rules were being flouted.
Amy was chatty and animated. Sofia gradually let Levi take a larger and larger part in the conversation, enjoying the expression in his eyes as he talked to his daughter about something other than what he’d like for lunch and whether Davide was being a nuisance. She had to take a large gulp of wine to wash away a lump in her throat when she remembered the same love in Aldo’s eyes when he used to look at her. She almost expected Amy to notice it too.
It was nearly ten when Amy checked the time with an exclamation. ‘Supposed to be meeting Noemi in town! Laters!’ Then she jumped up and disappeared through the door to the bar and thereafter the street.
Sofia laughed at the suddenness of it. ‘We’re dumped.’
Levi grinned, clinking his glass against hers in ironic celebration, the wine glittering with the reflection of the tiny lights wound around the terrace railings. ‘Young people today.’
Sofia stayed long enough to finish her glass of wine then said goodnight and strolled back up to Casa Felice, enjoying the stillness of the warm evening and letting thoughts drift gently into her mind. The thought that refused to drift out again was that now she knew the truth about Levi’s interest in Amy, she could admit to herself the truth about her interest in Levi.
He was hot.
She liked him a lot.
If only there wasn’t that guest/staff rule … It wouldn’t be sensible to risk her job for a one-night stand – certainly not until she’d located her uncle.
It was the next morning, Friday, when she reported to begin her 11 a.m. shift in Il Giardino that she found Davide waiting to pass on a message as he put up the table parasols. ‘My mother wants to see you in her office.’
Sofia paused in the act of posting her pad and pen into her apron pocket. ‘Now?’
Davide nodded and moved on to the next parasol.
‘OK,’ Sofia said to his back. She smoothed her hair and straightened her apron before entering the cool of the foyer. From the reception desk Aurora directed Sofia to Benedetta’s office through the door marked Solo staff. She followed Aurora’s directions and tapped and entered. The room held a gigantic desk for Benedetta and a frosty reception for Sofia.
‘Close the door,’ Benedetta instructed. ‘Is it true you
were out on a date with a hotel guest last night?’
Wrong-footed and alarmed, Sofia made a mistake. Instead of offering a simple explanation, she demanded, ‘Who saw us?’
‘That’s irrelevant.’ Benedetta’s manicured fingernails tapped on the desk. ‘You know that staff members should not form relationships with guests. Hotels that allow that get … a certain reputation.’ She made a prim shape with her mouth as she uttered the last three words.
Unease growing, Sofia took a breath as she belatedly prepared her defence. ‘I went out with Amy and the guest asked to share our table as there were no others vacant. Amy and I were together. It was obvious neither of us was on a date with the guest.’
Benedetta gazed at her keenly. ‘You were seen – not Amy.’
‘Oh.’ Sofia felt her face heat up, wishing she’d thought to forestall this eventuality. ‘Amy went to meet Noemi at about ten and I did finish my glass of wine before leaving the guest and coming back here. Alone.’
After several more seconds of keen scrutiny, Benedetta nodded. ‘I accept your explanation. But I must ask you not to mix socially with the guests. I couldn’t countenance staff members in the rooms of guests or guests in staff accommodation. We’ll call this an official warning.’
Sofia did not enjoy being reprimanded. She almost retorted that actually she fancied the pants off the guest but had made a huge effort and kept everything professional. So there. But it seemed a quick route to being dismissed, and there was the hope of her uncle seeking her out at Casa Felice to consider, apart from the inconvenience of having to find somewhere else to work and live. ‘Of course,’ she replied, as if no other thought had ever crossed her mind. Then she went off to begin her shift feeling a lot less calm than she let her outward appearance betray.
It seemed particularly hot outside. There was no breath of breeze and the heavy road traffic generated its own heat to add to that of the sun. Thomas was working section three and Davide, as usual, had allocated himself section two in the centre. His gaze was trained on the door as Sofia stepped outside and he paused in the middle of sanitising a table to send her a knowing smirk. Temper fraying as she realised the probable identity of Benedetta’s informer, she marched over to him. ‘Been chatting to your mum about me, Davide?’
One Summer in Italy Page 10