A Place in the Sun

by R.S. Grey

  Vendors smiled and nodded at me as I strolled by, and I promised to return after breakfast. I could watch them setting up from my perch on the patio at The Blue Marlin. My American friends weren’t there, so I ate alone, treating myself to eggs and bacon and a second cup of milky tea. I told myself I wasn’t in a rush to leave; I was enjoying the morning, but really I was lingering there, hoping to catch another glimpse of Gianluca.

  He was nowhere to be found, but in the middle of my breakfast I’d locked onto a woman across the street. She stood out among the crowd of vendors with her long blonde hair and pale skin. Bright red lipstick stained her lips and her forehead was covered by a bit of fringe. She was wearing this amazing blue dress, all tight up top and flowing around her legs. Gold bangles clinked on her wrists as she worked to unload racks of clothes. She wasn’t the only vendor selling clothing, but hers were the most stylish. She had loose linen shirts and bright sundresses. I already had my eye on a few of them when she stood back, wiped her brow, and turned her sights on The Blue Marlin.

  I tried not to stare too much as she breezed past me, but I caught a quick flash of her perfume; it was a floral scent I recognized from a shop back home in London. When she emerged a second later with a to-go cup in her hand, she paused at the table in front of me and popped off the black plastic lid.

  I watched her tear open a packet of sugar and dump it in, and then I leaned forward, knowing in that moment that I had to make this girl my friend.

  “I really like the clothes you’re selling.”

  She glanced over with a prepared smile, but it faded as her eyes fell on me.

  “You.”

  I leaned back in my chair, caught off guard. Do I know her?

  She realized her mistake a moment too late and then laughed.

  “Sorry, you don’t know me, but aren’t you the girl who passed out in the square the other day?”

  I inwardly groaned. How many people had witnessed my embarrassing moment? I’d hoped it’d been contained to Massimo and Gianluca, but if this girl knew about it, there was no telling how many others had seen it as well.

  “Yes. I’m the utterly naff girl who can’t ride trains without getting sick. I guess it’s my superpower.”

  She grinned. “Don’t worry about it. I only know about it because my boyfriend was one of the guys who helped you. He told me about it afterward, and—”

  “Who?!” I croaked. “Who is your boyfriend?”

  She beamed. “Massimo. He’s brilliant isn’t he?”

  I hadn’t known relief could feel so bloody good. “Yes. Absolutely brilliant. And handsome too,” I added with a big smile.

  She was clearly smitten, completely lighting up when she mentioned him. She was quite beautiful up close, with round eyes and a small nose. Her skin was a million shades lighter than mine, but it worked on her. She pulled off the ethereal fairy look quite nicely.

  “How long have you been dating then?” I asked, hoping to prolong our conversation for a few minutes. Traveling alone can be…well, lonely.

  “Oh, nearly three years,” she replied in an accent that wasn’t a far cry from mine. “We got together just after I arrived.”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah, I’d only planned on staying on in Italy for a week or so, but he convinced me to stay.”

  “Sounds so romantic.”

  A few people were starting to wander around the open-air market, passing stalls and glancing over the vegetables and flowers. She glanced over, and I knew she needed to get back to her shop before more people arrived.

  “I know you’ve got to get back to your stall, but could you tell Massimo thank you for me? I didn’t really get the chance when they dropped me off at my room.”

  She glanced back at me and tilted her head as if studying me for a moment. “How about you come to dinner with us tonight instead? You can thank them yourself.”

  “Them?” I asked, playing dumb. Really, I just needed her to say his name.

  “Massimo and Luca. It’s been ages since we all sat down for a proper meal and it’d be fun to get more time to talk.” She was glancing back and forth between her stall and me then, needing to rush off. “Eight o’clock down at Taverna Del Capitano. Say yes!”

  I laughed. “Yes. Okay!”

  “Brilliant.” She grinned and reached her hand out as if to shake on it. “I’m Katerina by the way.”

  “Georgie.”

  Our hands hung together in the air for another moment and then she let go to rush off, throwing a farewell over her shoulder.

  “Welcome to Vernazza, Georgie! I’ll see you tonight!”

  MY VILLA IN Vernazza sat up on a terraced hill overlooking the square. It was private and secluded, surrounded on three sides by grape vineyards and gardens. Everything was overgrown, greedy for sun and water, soaking it up until most of my house itself was covered in bougainvillea vines. They sprouted up bright purple in late spring and I didn’t have the heart to cut them back. Eventually, the plants would completely overtake the crumbling villa, but I’d do something about it then. Maybe.

  A single rocky road led from the square up to my villa. It was half a mile long and though a few houses sat at the base of the trail, most of it belonged to me. When it was level, I could use my motorbike; when it wasn’t, like now, I had to walk. During the last storm, the ground had soaked through and started to erode the stone wall built to prop up the hillside along the path. It was a long section of trail that I was responsible for maintaining and I’d been putting it off for the last few months. The job would be tedious to say the least.

  All the walls around Vernazza were built using dry-stone masonry. Centuries ago, they’d skipped mortar and concrete, opting to lay the walls by skill alone. Over the last few weeks, I’d started to pick apart the wall, pulling off stones that had shifted or fallen. Once I got it down to its bones, I could build back up from there.

  Now, I was working on it with the late afternoon sun on my back and the wind ruffling my hair beneath my cap. I lugged a heavy stone from the wall and dropped it into a small wheelbarrow resting beside my feet. Then, another. My muscles were tired. I’d been going at it for most of the day, but it needed to get done and I had no plans of hiring someone else to do it.

  A small green lizard scurried across the top of the wall, trying to hurry away from me. I bent down for my water, giving him the time he needed, just as Massimo’s voice carried up the trail. He was cursing in Italian, specifically cursing me, wishing I’d fall into the depths of hell for forcing him to make the trek up to my house.

  I smiled and moved a few more stones before he finished his ascent.

  “Merda,” he groaned, breathing hard and propping himself up against the stone wall.

  “There’s water inside if you need it,” I said, continuing my work.

  He propped his hands on his hips and glared at me, but that wasn’t new. Massimo was always going on about something. It was easier if I pretended I didn’t notice until he’d calmed down.

  “Do you have a phone in that house of yours?”

  I glanced back at the two-story villa my grandmother had left me when she’d passed. It’d been ancient and crumbling when I’d found it, but I’d done a good job of restoring it over the years.

  “Last time I checked.”

  “I phoned you half a dozen times.”

  I shrugged. “I’ve been out here, fixing the wall.”

  He shifted in front of me, stopping me from grabbing another rock. “Forget about the wall! We have plans.”

  I arched a brow and shifted around him, starting on a new section. “Plans?”

  “Dinner plans.”

  I held in my reaction. He and Katerina were good mates, but lousy dinner partners. Even years after getting on, they couldn’t make it through a meal without hanging on each other, sipping from each other’s wine glasses and sharing meals. Given the choice, I’d have rather gone hungry.

  “You go on ahead, I’ve got to—”

/>   “No, mate, you haven’t let me explain. It’s not just me and Kat. We’ve got another person coming.”

  I was still working then, removing stones from the wall. “Who?”

  He’d gone suspiciously quiet then, so I dropped the stone I was holding into the wheelbarrow, tugged off my gloves, and turned to watch as he let out a big grin.

  “Georgie.”

  He seemed to think the name would hold weight with me, but my mind came up utterly blank.

  “Who?” I asked, frowning.

  He threw his hands in the air. “Oh, bloody hell. The damsel in the dress! She’s the girl you carried into Nonna’s bed and breakfast.”

  I nodded, not bothering to correct his idiom. “Right. You go on then. I need to keep working.”

  Massimo was an easygoing bloke, but every once in a while, I pushed him too far. This was one of those times. He ripped my gloves from my hands and tossed them over the side of the hill, down into the trees along the edge of the cliff so that I couldn’t go after them unless I had a death wish.

  “You’re coming! You can’t continue living the life of an eremita! A recluse!”

  We had a standoff then. I stayed silent, a bit cross about my gloves, and he fisted his hands and puffed up his chest as if warning me away from a fight. It was laughable, really.

  “It’s been five years next week, and it’s time to move on, mate.” His voice didn’t cool then. He was past the point of handling me with kid gloves. “Go shower and change. I’ll wait for you and we’ll go together.”

  I relented, not because Massimo was right, but because I was hungry—starved, actually. I needed food and I would go down and eat; it didn’t much matter who I did it with.

  I left the barrow full of stones and turned back for my house. Massimo let out an audible sigh, glad to have won the battle.

  “You owe me a new pair of gloves by the way,” I said, tossing the words over my shoulder. His colorful curse words were cut off when I slammed the door of the villa behind me.

  I MET KATERINA at Taverna Del Capitano at 8:00 PM. The restaurant was at the far end of the square, close to the water and the massive breaker. Like the other restaurants in Vernazza, most of the seating was outside. They’d clustered a group of small tables beneath colorful umbrellas and by the time we arrived, most of the seats had been filled with people sipping wine and enjoying a leisurely dinner.

  I worried for a fleeting moment that we wouldn’t get a table, but a waitress directed Katerina and me to the best table in the bunch with a wink. Apparently, Katerina had some connections.

  “There’s really no point in eating here if you aren’t getting that view.”

  She pointed out to the water and I nodded. It was true. Anything would taste good with that backdrop.

  “Here, sit,” she said, pulling out a chair on the side of the table that faced the water.

  “You’re sure they won’t mind if we take the good seats?” I asked, hesitating over the chair.

  She sat down beside me and waved her hand. “Massimo has lived here his entire life. It’s nothing to him.”

  I couldn’t believe it. Sure, the sights around London hardly inspired feelings of awe in me anymore, but this was different. Vernazza was paradise on Earth.

  Katerina was still wearing her blue dress and gold bangles, and when she complimented my dinner outfit, I knew I’d done well. I’d picked a little red dress that was more silk than anything else. It showed a bit of skin, so I’d brought along a little jacket for when the sun started to drop.

  As it was, the sun hung low in the sky, right over the distant village of Monterosso al Mare and the mountains surrounding it. We had a perfect view of it all from our seats and for a moment I sat there, struck silent by its beauty.

  It was the golden hour, that perfect time of day when everything gets painted in a light pink hue. Even Katerina seemed to glow with it, and I told her so.

  “It’s lovely, isn’t it?” she said, turning to face me. “It’s like that on you too.”

  She was right. I glanced down to my bare arms and could see the effects of the sunset on my skin.

  “No wonder you’ve stayed on so long. The light in London isn’t like this.”

  “That’s where you’re from then? London?”

  The waitress returned with a bottle of white wine and poured a glass for each of us. Katerina told her to leave the bottle and I smiled, confident that I’d get on well with her.

  “I grew up on my family’s estate, but I moved to London when I was eighteen.”

  Her brows perked up. “An estate?”

  “Oh…it’s just a little—”

  “Sorry! Sorry!” Massimo’s voice boomed behind us. “I know we’re late, but we’ll make up for it with more wine.”

  He reached down to kiss Katerina’s cheek and then bent over her to kiss me hello as well. Gianluca was behind him and though I’d braced myself for a welcome kiss from him, he did little more than nod at us before he pulled back the chair across from me.

  For once, he wasn’t wearing a cap, and I nearly blacked out from the sheer beauty of him. He had deliciously wavy brown hair, thick and unruly. It should have been a crime to ever cover it with a cap, but I resisted the urge to tell him so.

  The table suddenly felt claustrophobic, too small for Gianluca’s tall frame. He adjusted in his seat, brushing his jean-clad leg against me, and I folded up my legs beneath my chair, trying to give him more room.

  “Sorry.” I cleared my throat, suddenly confused at how to act in the presence of a man like him.

  “Luca, you remember Georgie?” Katerina said, touching my shoulder.

  He glanced up to me as if only then realizing I was there.

  “Feeling better?” he asked.

  My face heated from the attention. Two words and it felt like he’d just seduced me.

  “Yes. Thank you.”

  “You look loads better than you did the other day,” Massimo chimed in with a big grin.

  “Massimo,” admonished Katerina, kicking him under the table.

  “I didn’t mean it like tha—” protested Massimo, laughing.

  “Don’t worry, Katerina, he’s right—I was more than a bit peaky that day,” I said.

  “Well let’s toast to a new day,” Katerina said, beaming at me. She reached forward to pour them wine. “And to new friendships!”

  “Yes,” I agreed, unsure if everyone at the table was excited by the prospect. Gianluca seemed tense, unsure of himself at the table.

  The next time the waitress came round, he asked for a beer and I decided to go for it.

  “Not a wine person, Gianluca?”

  He shrugged and glanced off over my shoulder. “Tonight calls for beer.”

  I couldn’t decide if the words were meant as a dig or not, but either way, he didn’t make a point to continue the conversation.

  Katerina leaned forward, salvaging the moment. “Right, well Georgie was just telling me about her childhood. Apparently she grew up on an estate in England!”

  Massimo waggled his brows. “What, are you royalty or something?”

  My throat tightened up. “Or something,” I emphasized. “It’s no big deal.”

  “Wait, so are you titled?”

  Technically, I was a lady by birth, but I’d die before telling them that. I decided to sidestep the question. “My father was a duke, and now my brother has the title.”

  “What’s your last name?” Massimo asked.

  “Archibald.”

  “Shut up!” Katerina said, dropping her wine glass on the table and turning to me with her full attention. “I knew I’d seen you on the telly back home in England! You’re Freddie Archibald’s sister?”

  I gulped down another sip of wine, bored with this conversation. I’d had it countless times over my life.

  “It’s no big deal, really. I went to snooty private schools and had to put up with real arsehole girls my whole life. I’d have much rather grown up in Vernazza,�
� I said, smiling at Massimo.

  He shook his head. “It’s not fun when you’re a teenager and there’s no decent night life. Now I’ve come to appreciate it, but I used to want to leave as soon as I was old enough.”

  “But you stayed?” I asked, curious about his decision.

  He nodded and turned to Gianluca. “I changed my mind when Luca moved back a few years ago. I decided the grass was probably no greener anywhere else.”

  As if sensing that he was about to be the subject of the conversation, Gianluca held up his hand for the waitress and requested another beer.

  It went on like that all through dinner. Massimo, Katerina, and I would carry the conversation and Gianluca would sit quietly, sipping his beer or eating his food as if we weren’t there. He wasn’t exactly brooding, just quiet and far more comfortable with the attention away from him.

  It was just my luck. The person I wanted to get to know the most was the least forthcoming with information. Still, any chance I got, I stole glances at him and tried to pick apart the details that lured me closer. More than anything else, he had a warmth to him. His days were spent outside and it showed. His skin had a rich tan and he carried a comforting scent I associated with childhood: warm summer days and salty sea air. His hands were big, rough, and calloused. His forearms, the bit that showed beneath his rolled shirt sleeves, were coiled with tight muscles.

  He picked up his beer and brought it to his lips, the only part of him that could have been called soft. They were full and bowed in the center. When he dropped it back to the table, his eyes flicked up to me and I turned away quickly, aware I’d been staring for too long.

  “So what brings you to Italy then, Georgie?” Massimo asked. “Vacation?”

  Maybe if I hadn’t been on my third glass of wine, I’d have nodded and replied with some response about wanting to experience summer in the Italian Riveria, but Gianluca was finally looking up at me, waiting for my answer, and I didn’t want to lie to him.