by Paige Toon
I smile. ‘Yeah. But you know I’m going to have to get you back, right?’
‘I look forward to it.’ His blue eyes meet my green ones and my heart starts to beat faster in my chest.
‘Will, we’re ready for you!’ A man I don’t recognise calls to Will. He’s wearing headphones and is carrying a clipboard.
‘See ya later . . .’
‘For sure.’ I hold up my hand in a half wave, but it’s ten minutes before my pulse returns to normal.
I barely see Will for the rest of the day – only at lunchtime when Holly and I are busy serving the crew.
‘I didn’t realise how much work this would be,’ Holly says at one point.
‘Me neither,’ I agree. ‘So what are you up to tonight?’
‘I don’t know. Guess we’ll have a few drinks back at the hotel with everyone. What about you? Are you coming along?’
‘No, I’d better get back to Nonna. I don’t see enough of her as it is.’
We hear an almighty roar and look outside the marquee to see two sports cars – a pale blue one and a lime-green one – zoom past.
‘The boys are back,’ Holly comments.
‘Do you think they’ll be finished filming by tomorrow?’ I ask. This job was only supposed to take two days.
‘I should think so, yes,’ Holly says.
‘Well, I guess we’d better get this mess tidied up.’
We’ve been serving snacks throughout the day. Filming is supposed to wrap by six o’clock. It’s five forty-five now, but my car isn’t coming to collect me to take me back to Nonna’s until seven, so we still have over an hour’s work to do. By six thirty though, it’s all done.
Holly disappeared a few minutes ago and when I come out of the kitchen, she’s standing outside talking to Simon.
‘All set?’ he asks me.
‘My car’s coming to collect me in half an hour. I’m staying with my grandmother not far from here,’ I remind him.
He nods. Behind him, a couple of other crew members approach. The people carriers to take them back to the hotel have been parked up for the past fifteen minutes. Simon hates to be kept waiting so he’d rather pay for someone else to do it.
Holly breaks away from the gathering and comes over to me. ‘Will you be okay here on your own?’ She looks anxious.
‘Yeah, yeah, I’ll be fine,’ I insist. ‘My car will be here shortly.’
I notice Will and Luis come out of one of the trailers. The make-up girl emerges and locks the door behind her.
‘Okay, well, I’ll see you in the morning,’ Holly says, wandering back over to the waiting cars. Luis stops to chat to Simon, but Will continues on towards me.
‘What are you up to tonight?’ he asks.
‘Just going back to see my grandmother,’ I say.
‘Where does she live?’
‘About fifteen minutes’ drive away.’
‘Want me to give you a ride?’
‘No, no,’ I brush him off.
‘I don’t mind. I’m driving the Aston Martin back to the hotel anyway.’ That’s the blue car he’s been racing around the mountains in today.
I hesitate. I would love him to drive me! ‘I have a taxi coming in half an hour,’ I tell him regretfully.
‘From Lucca?’
‘I presume so.’
‘Cancel it,’ he suggests.
I guess I could . . .
‘Go on,’ he urges. ‘Here, use my phone.’ He hands me a slick iPhone, but I pull out my crappy mobile instead.
‘It’s okay, I have mine here. Are you sure?’
‘Absolutely.’
I dial the number, nervous excitement making me feel a little shaky. I worry Will can hear it in my voice.
‘All done?’ Will checks when I hang up.
‘Yes. Are you sure?’ I ask again. ‘Will the Aston Martin people mind you going on a detour with their car?’
‘Nah. I was thinking about getting one of these babies anyway so they can consider it an extended test drive.’
‘Will, are you following us?’ Simon calls. Everyone else is piling into the waiting cars, but Holly is still standing outside pulling a sad face, presumably because we’re going our separate ways.
‘I’m going to drop Daisy back.’ Will nods towards me.
Holly purses her lips, mischievously. We hear the sound of a sports car roar into life and, seconds later, Luis pulls around the corner in a lime-green Lamborghini. The window slides down and Simon goes over to talk to him.
‘Come on,’ Will urges. I follow him over to the pale blue Aston Martin where he unlocks the car and opens the passenger door for me. Just as he closes the door behind me, I notice Luis staring our way with a perplexed expression on his face. He says something to Simon, who glances towards our car before answering Luis. Will climbs into the driver’s seat and slams the door, just as Luis screeches out onto the mountain road in front of us, sending a cloud of dust in our direction.
‘That was thoughtful of him,’ Will comments sarcastically as the dust envelopes the car. ‘Someone’s going to have to polish that off in the morning.’
He pulls out onto the road slowly, beeping his horn at the others as we go. Holly laughingly shakes her head at this turn of events and I’m relieved when Will doesn’t seem to notice. After a minute he kicks up the speed and I have to hold onto the armrest as he manoeuvres the Aston Martin down the windy roads.
‘Am I going too fast?’ he asks after I do a sharp intake of breath at one particular turn.
‘No,’ I lie through clenched teeth.
After a while I get used to the speed and start to relax.
‘Is it a nice car to drive?’ I ask.
‘Very,’ he replies, glancing across at me with amusement.
‘Eyes on the road!’ I bark.
He chuckles. ‘What car do you drive back in the States?’
‘I don’t, really,’ I admit.
‘I thought everyone drove cars in America.’
‘I’d drive one of these if I could.’ I reach forward and run my fingers across the dashboard.
‘You like it?’
‘I like the colour.’
‘That’s such a girl thing to say.’
‘No, I like the way it looks, too,’ I add quickly. ‘And the engine sounds awesome.’
He laughs and looks across at me.
‘Road!’ I frantically point ahead of us and he returns his attention to his driving.
‘I’d let you have a go if I didn’t think you might crash it.’
‘Oh, thanks very much,’ I say sarcastically. ‘Take a right, here.’
Eventually we pull into the lane directly outside Nonna’s house. Will peers out the windscreen.
‘Pretty,’ he comments, looking over at the house.
‘The view is amazing,’ I tell him.
The front door opens and Nonna comes out.
‘Do you want to come in for a drink?’ I offer.
He unclicks his seatbelt. ‘Sure.’
We climb out of the car and I usher Will towards Nonna, who’s beaming widely.
‘Nonna, this is Will,’ I say in English.
I told her about Will yesterday evening, but omitted my feelings for him. Now, she welcomes him like an old friend and leads us into the kitchen. My grandparents lived in this house for decades before Nonno, my grandfather, died of a heart attack five years ago at the age of eighty-seven. It was big enough for the two of them, but right now, with three of us in the kitchen, I feel claustrophobic.
‘What would you like to drink?’ Nonna asks in Italian.
‘Perhaps we could take a glass of mint water out to the terrace?’ I suggest. I translate for Will. ‘Is that okay?’ I ask him. ‘You won’t be too cold?’
‘No, but won’t you be?’ He casually rubs my arm.
‘Maybe,’ I tell him, although my sudden goosebumps have nothing to do with the climate. ‘I might go and change.’
‘Sure.’
I leave him with Nonna, hoping she won’t struggle too much with her English, while I head off to my small box room. I pull a dark-green jumper out of the travel bag still squashed into the bottom of my wardrobe – I haven’t had the time or inclination to unpack – and swap my black team trousers for jeans. My hair has been tied up into a high bun all day and my scalp is starting to ache, so I unpin it now and it falls down my back in wavy curls. Back in America I used to straighten it to within an inch of its life, but I rarely bother anymore.
I re-enter the kitchen to find it empty. Nonna and Will have already gone outside.
I find them out in the vegetable garden where Nonna is pointing out her goats in the small paddock.
‘She’ll have you milking them next.’
Will starts at the sound of my voice.
‘I’ll just go and get the drinks,’ Nonna says in Italian, and bustles away.
‘Do you need any help?’ I call after her.
‘No, no, no!’ she assures me.
I turn back to find Will looking at me. He quickly averts his gaze, folding his arms in front of his body.
‘Shall we go to the terrace?’ I ask.
‘Sure.’ He motions for me to lead the way, and I do so, intensely aware of him walking behind me. We reach the terrace and I stop, taking a deep breath of crystal-clear air.
‘Isn’t it beautiful?’ I say, staring out at the mountains.
‘Mmm,’ he says quietly.
‘Here you go, children.’ I spin around to see Nonna walking towards the terrace. She places a small tray down on the thick stone wall and hands out the glasses of mint water. We sit in a row on the stone bench with me in the middle.
‘Have you lived here long?’ Will leans forwards to speak to Nonna.
I translate automatically, but she interrupts. ‘I understand,’ she says slowly in English. ‘Fifty-two years.’
‘Fifty-two years!’ Will exclaims. ‘That’s exactly twice my age.’
‘Mine, too,’ I tell him.
‘Are you twenty-six?’ he asks, interested.
‘Yeah.’
‘Huh.’
‘Did you think I was older?’
‘No, I’m just surprised we’re the same age,’ he says.
‘Mmm, I thought it was a coincidence, too, when I found out.’
‘That’s even more we have in common, then.’
‘It is.’ We smile at each other. ‘Sorry, Nonna.’ I lean back on the bench so I’m no longer blocking her view, but she jumps to her feet.
‘The lamb!’ she exclaims in Italian. ‘Will he stay for dinner?’ she asks me.
I glance at Will hesitantly. ‘I think he’ll have to get back.’
‘Ask him,’ Nonna urges.
‘What?’ Will interrupts.
‘She wants to know if you’ll stay for dinner. I said you probably have to get back . . .’
‘I don’t have to get back.’
‘You don’t have to get back?’
‘No.’
I turn to Nonna. ‘He’ll stay.’ She beams and hurries away to the kitchen.
Will looks at me. ‘If you don’t mind, that is.’
‘Of course I don’t mind.’
I stare off into the distance. Dark clouds have begun to invade the mountains.
‘That looks ominous,’ I comment.
Will nods and we fall silent. A short while later, Nonna calls us to the table.
‘This was amazing,’ Will says after dinner, indicating his clean plate. ‘You’re a fantastic cook.’
‘Oh, this was nothing,’ Nonna replies modestly, but I know she prides herself on her cuisine. She stands up and I quickly join her, helping to clear the table.
‘You young things go through to the sitting room. I’ll bring coffee through in a minute. Go!’ she insists when I hesitate.
Nonna only has two chairs in her small sitting room. One is a sofa and the other is her armchair, so I join Will on the former to leave the latter free for our host.
After a moment he sighs.
‘What’s wrong?’ I ask.
‘I wish I could just chill here for a few days.’
‘Really?’ I look at him in delight.
‘Yeah. I’m so sick of staying in hotels. And this is so . . . homely.’
‘It is homely, isn’t it?’
‘Very.’
‘I know it’s small, but it feels—’
‘Right,’ he finishes my sentence.
‘Yes. Exactly.’
‘Do you reckon we could persuade your grandma to go and live in my Chelsea pad and we’ll camp up here?’
I laugh. ‘That’d be nice. But you’d never get her to leave the mountains.’
And I don’t suppose your girlfriend would approve, either, I think to myself. But let’s not mention her.
‘Here we go!’ Nonna enters the room with a small tray.
Suddenly a loud crashing sound reverberates through the stone walls.
‘Is that thunder?’ Will asks, taken aback.
‘Yes,’ Nonna replies, listening as the heavens open. ‘Big storm. Is treacherous, these mountains,’ she continues in stilted English as she places the tray on a small side-table and hands us tiny, white espresso cups before sitting down.
‘I hope it passes by tomorrow,’ Will says.
‘Cazzo, yes! Sorry Nonna,’ I apologise for my language when she looks at me sharply. ‘Will was just saying he hopes the storm will have passed by tomorrow otherwise they won’t be able to finish filming,’ I tell her in Italian.
‘Oh, no, no, no!’ Nonna cries in dismay, clambering up from her armchair. She rushes away and comes back with a couple of saucepans while we look on, concerned.
‘These walls!’ she despairs.
Water is leaking through a crack in the far wall.
‘Does this happen often?’ Will asks, as we both come quickly to Nonna’s aid and help patch up the naked stone with old rags.
Nonna replies in Italian so I translate. ‘Every time she gets it fixed, the water finds a way back in through somewhere else. She needs to renovate the entire house.’
‘Will it cost much?’ I ask Nonna.
‘Too much,’ she replies. ‘It’s not worth it at my age.’
‘Nonna!’ I cry. ‘Of course it’s worth it. You can’t live like this.’
‘It’s fine,’ she insists. ‘It’s not a problem.’
‘But it is a problem. We can see that ourselves. I could help. I’ve saved a little money.’
‘No, you will not!’ she snaps, glaring at me. For an 82-year-old, she’s a feisty old bat.
‘What are you saying?’ Will asks.
‘Nothing,’ I tell him, when I see my grandmother’s face. She wouldn’t want Will to feel pity for her.
We mop up the rest of the water and strategically place pots and pans on the floor to catch any drips.
Finally Nonna turns to Will. ‘You can’t be driving.’
‘I’ll be okay,’ Will says.
‘You stay here on sofa.’
‘No, no, I’ll be fine.’ Will laughs.
‘Is no laughing matter!’ Nonna snaps, wiping the smile off Will’s face. ‘Carlo, my husband, he died on these roads.’
Hang on, I thought Nonno died of a heart attack?
‘Oh, I’m so very sorry.’ Will looks mortified.
‘So you stay here. Drive in morning when storm gone.’
The sound of thunder comes crashing through the walls again.
‘You tell him,’ she says to me firmly. ‘He not drive in this.’
‘You did say you could stay here for a few days . . .’ I look at him pleadingly.
‘True. I guess it would be okay . . . Are you sure it’s alright?’ he asks Nonna.
‘Of course!’
‘I should call Simon and tell him what I’m up to.’ He pulls out his mobile.
‘There’s no reception up here, I’m afraid. Do you want to use the phone? Can Will use the phone, Nonna?’
&
nbsp; ‘Certainly,’ she replies.
‘Cool. I don’t want him to worry.’
I direct him to the phone in the kitchen and return to the sitting room, where Nonna is already making up the sofa with sheets and blankets. Moments later, he joins us.
‘All done?’ I ask.
‘Simon didn’t answer so I left a message at reception.’
‘It’s my bedtime,’ Nonna interrupts, collecting our espresso cups. ‘I’m going to listen to my radio show. Good night!’ she says to Will.
‘Good night! Thanks again.’
‘You’re welcome.’ We watch her amble out of the room.
I turn back to Will. ‘I could call Holly if you like? Just in case Simon doesn’t get your message?’
‘I’m sure it will be fine.’
‘I don’t mind.’
‘Okay, then. Just to be on the safe side.’
But there’s no answer from Holly’s room, either.
‘Probably all out on the piss,’ Will says.
I take a seat on Nonna’s recently vacated armchair because I don’t feel right about cosying up next to Will on his makeshift bed, and we fall silent, listening to the rain beating against the windows. Darkness has enveloped the mountains and it’s chilly in here. I shiver.
‘Are you cold?’ Will asks.
‘A little.’
‘Want one of my blankets?’
‘No, it’s okay,’ I say quickly. ‘Actually, I’ll go and grab one of my own.’ I head to my room to fetch Nonna’s hand-stitched quilt and remember the bottle of duty free red wine that I bought at the airport on the way over here. On a whim I get it out of my wardrobe and poke my head around the sitting-room door.
‘Do you fancy a drink?’ I ask Will, holding out the bottle.
He sits up in his seat. ‘Er, sure.’
I put the bottle on the table and my quilt on the chair. ‘I’ll just go and get some glasses,’ I tell him, returning a minute later. Will has already found a bottle opener on top of Nonna’s small liquor cabinet, there from the days she used to share an aperitif with Nonno.
I snuggle up on the armchair and tuck my legs underneath myself while Will pours the wine and leans across to hand me a glass.
‘Thanks.’
‘This is cosy,’ he says, climbing under his blankets.
‘Isn’t it?’ I take a sip of my wine and watch him over the rim of my glass as he gets comfortable. ‘Did you enjoy driving around the mountains today?’ I ask.