by T A Williams
‘It’s not me playing footsie with you, in case you wondered. There are two big black dogs between us.’
He turned towards her with a broad smile, his whole face lit up by the intensity of it. ‘I was wondering how come you’d got so very furry all of a sudden. I was going to check if there was maybe a full moon tonight and if that meant you were going to start howling.’
‘Me, a werewolf? I haven’t got the nails for it.’ Sarah grinned back at him, delighted to see him looking so much more cheerful. ‘Although I was reading that there are real wolves in the mountains not that far from here.’
‘Having a pack of wolves behind us would get us cycling a good deal faster up the hills.’ He reached towards the numerous bottles of wine on the table in front on them. ‘Red or white? Or it looks like there’s more champagne if you prefer it.’
‘I’ll have a drop of red, please.’ She watched as he filled both glasses before asking to see the bottle. It was a ten-year-old Chianti Classico with the famous black cockerel on the label. She set the bottle down and picked up her glass, breathing in the bouquet appreciatively. She reached over and clinked her glass against his, murmuring the traditional Italian toast, ‘Cin, cin.’ He nodded his head.
‘And cin cin to you, too, Sarah. You’re doing a grand job. This trip is brilliant. I haven’t enjoyed myself so much for ages.’
Sarah was delighted he was sounding more cheerful and, of course, that he appeared convinced she was doing well. On top of everything else that had happened recently, the idea of losing her job would have been too terrible to contemplate.
She sipped her wine happily, enjoying the warm feel of the dogs beside her and the man beside them.
The main course was yet more meat, ranging from duck to wild boar, accompanied by roast potatoes and roast vegetables. After the day’s ride, everybody ate their fill and Sarah was feeling pleasantly full and just a little tipsy as a plate of panna cotta ringed with fresh little wild strawberries arrived in front of her. Along with the dessert were small glasses of vin santo, the sweet reinforced wine that was the speciality of Tuscany, the region lying just to the west of them. She sat back, just as, from the next room, the band struck up. She glanced at Miles, wondering if he was going to dance this time but, as if by magic, she heard his phone buzz and he stood up apologetically, nodded at her and headed back out onto the terrace. She felt a considerable pang of regret as he disappeared.
The dancing was a lot of fun and Sarah was soon feeling very hot and dying for some fresh air. She was unsurprised to see Dan dancing with Polly and exhibiting no signs of knee trouble, and she found herself nodding sagely. She also spotted Terri and Gianluca spending a lot of time together. They both looked happy and she was pleased for the two of them, particularly for Gianluca as he got over his grief for his grandfather. Finally, after a particularly energetic dance with Chuck, Sarah went onto the terrace and took a few deep breaths as she walked along to the far end, away from the candles. She leant on the ornate balustrade and gazed out over the surrounding countryside as her eyes gradually adapted to the dark. A handful of lights in the distance bore witness to other houses or farms, while, above her, the sky sparkled with stars. The moon had not yet risen, but the starlight was sufficient for her to be able to make out the slim, pointed shapes of the cypress trees, punctuated by fatter silhouettes that were surely ancient oaks or other deciduous trees. Apart from the distant sound of music from the villa, it was calm, still and silent. It was a wonderful night.
She felt a sudden movement in the darkness and seconds later a cold wet nose touched her leg. She reached down with one hand and scratched his ears.
‘Ciao, Raffa. Sei bravo?’
The dog’s response to the question was to lean heavily against her leg and then slide down until he was stretched out on the floor at her side, all four paws in the air. She was rubbing his tummy with her foot when she heard footsteps behind her.
‘I love the fact that you talk to him in Italian so he’ll understand.’ It was Miles and she looked up, very glad to see him.
‘Of course. He is Italian, after all.’ She looked round. ‘And where’s your black shadow?’
‘Leo was lured away by the prospect of some leftovers. I see you seem to have found the only Labrador in the world prepared to skip food, even if it is for a pretty girl.’
He leant on the balustrade beside her and they both gazed out over the hillside towards the pinpricks of light in the distance. It was an amazing place and she envied Count Roberto his ancestral home, although she had heard the loneliness in his voice when he had spoken about his sorely missed wife. All the beauty in the world couldn’t compensate for abject loneliness. Having Miles here beside her suddenly gave her a warm glow and she realised that, ever since James’s letter, she, like the old man, had been feeling very alone. Somehow, with Miles beside her, that sensation had disappeared.
‘Enjoying your evening?’ He kept his voice low but his mouth was not far from her ear. She thought she could even feel his breath against her skin, but that might just have been an illusion.
‘Yes, thanks, Miles. It’s a beautiful evening and this place is quite amazing.’ She almost added how comforting his company was, but bit her lip. She did, however, risk using an emotive adjective. ‘It’s a very romantic place.’
For a moment she wondered what would happen if she were to lean over and kiss him, but no sooner had the idea crossed her mind than she rejected it. He was, after all, her boss, and they were going to be working closely together from now on. There was too much at stake for her to risk messing that up. Nevertheless, she couldn’t help musing about just how that might feel and had to rest more heavily on the balustrade as her knees threatened to give way. Then, to her surprise, she heard his voice. It was low, almost a whisper, choked with emotion.
‘A villa on an Italian hillside in the starlight? No, it doesn’t get much more romantic than this.’ There was a pause and then she felt his fingers on her arm, sending a shiver through her whole body. ‘I think I’d better go.’ His voice was tense and she felt sure he was struggling with some internal conflict. Whether this was for personal reasons as yet unspecified or simply because, as her employer, he didn’t want to risk falling foul of the regulations governing sexual harassment in the workplace was impossible to tell. She was still trying to think of a response that would reassure him when there was the lightest of squeezes on her arm and he left.
Chapter 8
The next day was as lovely as the previous day’s ride to Urbino. The route took them through beautiful, hilly countryside as they passed from the region of Marche into Umbria. All around them now were vineyards and sunflower fields and nearly every hilltop had a magnificent villa standing there, protected from the heat of the sun by a ring of trees, mainly the iconic cypresses and umbrella pines. Although tonight would see them barely halfway through their two-week journey, they were already starting to see signposts marked Roma. All roads, quite evidently, did indeed lead to Rome.
The hills were a good bit higher today and it was pretty hard work, climbing up to almost a thousand metres at one point. Sarah was particularly pleased to see Paul working alongside Gianluca, encouraging and supporting the weaker members of the group when the going got tough. He was definitely making much more of an effort to be helpful and she hoped his big brother would notice. The views became ever-more spectacular, with fields, woods and isolated farmhouses dotted across the land, steep-sloping hills and mountains providing a stunning, if hazy, backdrop. The weather, yet again, was equally spectacular and the temperature climbed steadily as the day progressed.
Sarah took up her now habitual place at the back of the group and let her mind roam again. She had slept well, eventually. The difficulty she had experienced in getting off to sleep was no doubt partly due to the amount of porchetta and everything else she had eaten and drunk, but it was also because of Miles. There was no doubt in her mind that she had come very close to kissing him last night. Consi
dering she had set out on this bike ride less than a week ago with the firm intention of avoiding any sort of emotional involvement with any man, this sudden surge of emotion towards her boss was disconcerting, to say the least. From time to time she glanced ahead and caught sight of his bright-yellow bike as he rode along in the peloton, chatting to the others, and found herself admiring his muscular body yet again. She kept reminding herself that James, too, had a muscular body and look where that had got her. It was a very frustrating sensation.
The last fifteen kilometres to Gubbio involved another climb, followed by an exhilarating downhill run through rocky, wooded scenery that gradually developed into a steep-sided gorge. Polly was waiting for them with the van at the top and it came as no surprise to Sarah to see Dan climb off his bike and slide it in the back so he could ride into town with her. Although he no doubt enjoyed Polly’s company, he missed a great descent. As they swept down a series of hairpin bends, the breeze created by the speed was very welcome. It was incongruous to see snowflakes marked on road signs all along the way, warning of the possibility of icy conditions. It seemed incredible to think that the temperature here could ever drop below freezing, but winter in the Apennines, she knew, could be harsh. For now, at least, the month of June was proving to be anything but cold.
They entered the historic town of Gubbio through a medieval gateway leading them into narrow, cobbled streets that wound downwards. Gubbio was built on a hillside and the hotels where they would be staying tonight were down in the lower part of town. Because of the size of their group, it had been necessary to split them and the participants were divided between two different hotels. Sarah and Polly took one each and checked that everybody was provided with a suitable room. Coincidentally, Sarah noticed that Miles was in her hotel. That suited her just fine, although it was pretty clear that, same hotel or not, Miles had no intention of getting any closer to her. The truth was that he had shown no signs of ever making a move or, indeed, any signs of any kind of interest in her other than that demanded by the employer/employee contract. Still, she thought to herself, having him just down the corridor was better than nothing.
She went up to her room on the top floor, a charming room with a high, sloping ceiling, supported by massive timber beams. She was still thinking about Miles. There was something about him that intrigued her. He was good-looking and caring, but there was more to it than that. He wasn’t easily classified. Although he could be friendly, supportive and warm, he could also be moody, troubled and mysterious, sometimes very distant. Maybe, she told herself pragmatically, the attraction she was feeling for him was simply because he didn’t appear interested in her. Maybe his apparent lack of interest only increased his appeal. The grass on the other side of the fence was always greener, even if this particular fence appeared to be capped with barbed wire. The fact was that she knew very little about him, but the little she knew was fascinating. Somehow, she really wanted to find out more about the man. However, this was not, she told herself firmly, because she wanted any kind of romantic involvement. As she sat down on the bed and undid her cycling shoes she found herself wondering just how true that really was.
She showered quickly and changed into shorts and a T-shirt before setting out for a tour of the town. She had read about Gubbio and knew it was supposed to be one of the most beautiful towns in Umbria. Considering that the region of Umbria included household names such as Assisi, Perugia and Orvieto, Gubbio would have to be something rather special to rank alongside them, and Sarah was determined to see the sights for herself. Polly had been a couple of times before and decided to take it easy and stay in her room, so Sarah set out on her own, vaguely wondering if Dan, too, might decide to stay in the hotel for the afternoon.
The way up to the old town was very steep and Sarah found herself climbing narrow, cobbled streets towards the square shape of what looked like a castle high above. The car-free streets became increasingly tortuous and the gradient ever steeper, even deteriorating into steps from time to time as she gained height.
Finally she emerged onto a wide-open, completely flat square offering a spectacular view of the roofs below and the distant mountains beyond. This square was ten times bigger than any she had seen so far in the town and just about the only bit of Gubbio to be on the flat. Quite rightly, the name of the square was Piazza Grande. To her right was what she had first thought to be a castle because of the ornate crenellations around the roof. A sign told her that this was the Palazzo dei Consoli, and it was easy to imagine a medieval potentate strutting about up here, dressed in the same robes as dear old Count Roberto had been wearing the night before. She was still thinking about him as she passed a gift shop selling, among other things, postcards.
She chose a couple of cards and went into the shop to pay for them, then sat down at a table on the square and ordered a focaccia and a mineral water. Although she had already sent an official thank you to Count Roberto by email on behalf of the group, and had arranged for a big bouquet of flowers to be delivered to him, she wrote him a card saying thank you more personally for his generous hospitality the previous night and how much she had enjoyed his company.
As she was sitting there, a couple arrived with a bouncy black Labrador on a lead and she was reminded of her other new friend, Raffa the Lab, who had spent the previous evening at her side. She knew she would do her best to go back and see him, his lovely owner, and their wonderful house again before too long. Thought of the dog reminded her of the clear affection Raffa’s brother had shown for Miles. She smiled to herself as she remembered Roberto’s assertion that his dogs were good judges of character.
After finishing her snack, she got up and carried on with her tour of the town. The place was remarkably well preserved and the feel of the narrow, cobbled streets, stone houses and numerous churches and convents was like something out of a Renaissance painting. A few days earlier there had been a flower festival in the town and there were intricate patterns and pictures made entirely of fresh blooms all the way down the middle of one of the roads. Sarah lost herself in silent appreciation of this little slice of history as she walked under arches, up steps, along narrow alleys and past spectacular pieces of medieval and Renaissance art and architecture. So engrossed was she, as she walked through a Roman arch, built two thousand years earlier, that she almost bumped into Miles. Recognising him, she stopped dead, her mind, and heart, now very much back in the twenty-first century.
‘Hi, Sarah, you looked like you were a million miles away.’ He was smiling and she found herself smiling back at him. She had thought a lot about him both last night and today out on the road, and she knew she was very pleased to see him here.
‘A couple of thousand years away. This was built by the Romans and it’s still standing now.’
‘Ee, they could build in those days.’ He affected a fairly convincing northern accent. ‘This whole place is like a museum, isn’t it? Quite amazing.’ He glanced at his watch. ‘Five o’clock. I was thinking of going up to the basilica on the hill.’ He pointed to a sign indicating that it was a two-kilometre walk, all uphill.
Sarah shook her head. Much as she liked the idea of spending some time alone with him, it was still stiflingly hot and the idea of a two-hour slog uphill on foot definitely didn’t appeal. She was about to tell him she thought he was mad when he demonstrated that he wasn’t as crazy as he sounded.
‘Through the arch, turn left and a hundred metres up the road is the cable car station. That’s what I’ve just been told. Fancy it?’
Sarah was faced with a quandary. On the one hand, she would dearly have loved to stay with him, but her fear of heights resurfaced. He must have seen the indecision on her face.
‘According to the lady at the café, it’s not a high cable car, but a series of smaller cabins, like a chairlift, and it’s not that far off the ground. Why not come along with me and see what it’s like. If it looks scary, just say no. All right?’
Put like that, it didn’t sound too da
unting so she nodded and fell in beside him as they walked through the blessed cool shade of the arch and out into the burning heat once more. The cable car station was indeed only a hundred metres or so up the hill, but the cable cars themselves were very different from any cable car Sarah had ever seen before. They consisted of a series of iron cages, vaguely reminiscent of round birdcages, suspended from a cable that ran from where they were standing up over a series of pylons to the distant hilltop. They looked flimsy in the extreme and Sarah felt very dubious indeed as she stood and surveyed them. The only good thing was that they didn’t appear to be too far off the ground, so maybe her vertigo wouldn’t kick in.
‘What do you think, Sarah? Feeling brave?’ She looked up at him. He was still smiling. ‘I’ll look after you if you feel like giving it a try. The view from the top’s supposed to be exceptional.’
The idea of climbing into one of these baskets didn’t appeal in the slightest, but the idea of being looked after by Miles most certainly did. So, not for the first time in her life, Sarah took a leap of faith and said yes. They bought their tickets and walked out onto the concrete platform where they could see the cages arriving, emptying out their passengers and then running round a massive pulley wheel before setting back off uphill again. There appeared to be barely a four or five second window of opportunity for people to jump out or jump in, with the assistance of a bored-looking attendant. They moved along the platform as the next empty basket arrived and jumped in, one after the other, the attendant slamming the gate shut behind them.
As the basket began the climb through the trees, Sarah gradually took her bearings and analysed the sensations she was feeling. For now, they weren’t too terribly high up and, although she didn’t exactly feel comfortable, her head wasn’t spinning like it had done on the battlements of San Marino. At the same time, the other sensation – and this went a long way towards compensating for the fact that she was now hanging in space – was the fact that it was a very small basket and, as a result, she and Miles were crushed pretty tightly together. Her right shoulder was wedged up against his chest and she could feel the hairs of his left leg rubbing against her right leg. Her eyes were only a matter of inches from his lips. To say that her feelings were mixed would have been an understatement.