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To Rome, With Love

Page 15

by T A Williams


  ‘The sooner we get you to the hospital the better, Lars. Do you think you can stand up?’

  He nodded and managed to get to his feet without too much difficulty, just a little grimace, supported by Gianluca on one side and Miles, now reunited with his cycling shirt, on the other. As the three of them walked slowly towards the minibus, Miles made a practical suggestion.

  ‘Lars and Polly don’t speak Italian. I do. If you like, Sarah, I’ll go with them to the hospital. You and Gianluca carry on with the ride and we’ll just have to hope there are no more emergencies before Polly can get back with the van.’

  Sarah nodded. That made a lot of sense. ‘Thanks, Miles, that’s great.’ She turned to Polly. ‘Call me as soon as you’ve seen the doctor to let me know what he says.’

  Chuck had reappeared from the woods by this time carrying Lars’s bike. The front wheel was hopelessly bent out of shape and the frame looked even worse, the crossbar completely snapped in half. Sarah caught Gianluca’s eye and he shook his head sadly.

  ‘Carbon. When it goes, it goes. It must have taken a real hit.’

  Well, Sarah though to herself, bikes can be replaced. Human lives can’t. Thank goodness it hadn’t been even worse. She stood by the minibus as the broken bike and Miles’s yellow bike were squeezed into the van along with Polly and Miles. She gave the Swede a little wave of encouragement as he was driven away to hospital.

  ***

  The phone call from the hospital came through while Sarah was sitting in a café, just up the road from the imposing Basilica of Saint Francis at Assisi. This massive white building dominated the surrounding countryside and they had first seen it while they were still far away. The last kilometre up to the town had been brutally steep and Sarah was glad to have the chance to sit down with a cup of coffee, keeping an eye on the bikes while the others wandered round the town and into the church that housed the mortal remains of the medieval saint. As soon as the phone started buzzing, she picked it up.

  ‘Hi, Polly, what’s the news?’

  ‘Hi, Sarah, it’s not Polly, it’s Miles. Polly’s in the van on her way back to meet up with you guys. She’ll give you a call herself in a few minutes.’

  ‘What about Lars?’

  ‘Gianluca and Terri were right. It’s a broken collarbone. He should be as good as new again in a few months, but he’s going to have his arm in a sling for quite a few weeks first.’

  ‘So that’s the end of the ride for him.’

  ‘Afraid so. I told him he could still come along in the minibus with Polly and follow the route with the rest of us if he wanted, but he prefers to go home.’

  ‘I quite understand. What a shame.’ Sarah was genuinely sorry the tall Swede was leaving them. She had got very attached to him in the short time she had known him. ‘I’ll get on to the insurance company.’

  ‘It’s all right, Sarah, I’ve already done that. I had time to kill this afternoon and you’ve got enough to do as it is. They’re getting back to me later on this afternoon, but it looks as though he should be able to fly home tomorrow.’

  ‘Thanks for doing that, Miles. I could have done it.’ Sarah was very grateful to him for his help. ‘So what about you? How are you getting back?’

  ‘I told him I’d stay with him until we’ve got his return journey sorted out. Polly said she’d drive back later on this afternoon and pick me up.’

  ‘Great. I’ll hitch a lift with her. I’d like to see Lars before he leaves.’

  It was almost six o’clock before Sarah and Polly got to Perugia hospital. It had been a long day, mainly because of the road conditions in the recurring heavy showers, which had considerably slowed the pace. And after the accident to Lars, the mood of the group had been very subdued. Sarah wasn’t the only one who had made friends with the affable Swede.

  There was nowhere to park the big vehicle so Polly stuck it on the pavement and stayed at the wheel, ready to move if the police came along. Sarah went in and found Lars in a private room, lying back against the pillows, his eyes half closed. She sat down beside the bed and took a good look at him. The scratches on his face were a little less red, but he had developed a magnificent black eye and this, plus the arm in the sling, made her realise yet again just how lucky he had been not to do himself any more permanent damage. She summoned a little smile.

  ‘Somehow I think you’re going to get a lot of sympathy when you get home. You look as if you’ve done ten rounds in the ring with Cassius Clay.’

  He made an attempt at a lopsided smile. ‘It’s just a pity I’m not going to be able to finish the ride with you all.’

  ‘Cheer up, you’ve done over half the ride and, by the look of it, you got the best of the weather. There’s always next year.’

  At that moment the door opened and Miles came in, carrying a polystyrene cup of coffee. ‘Hi, Sarah, I’ve just been to get myself a coffee. Would you like it? I can go and get myself another.’

  Sarah shook her head. ‘No, I’m fine, thanks, Miles. You drink it.’ She was very pleased to see him. He was still wearing his cycling clothes and his strong, brown legs were still streaked with mud. She handed him a plastic bag. ‘Here, I got Paul to open your bag and dig out some clothes for you, and I asked him to put in a towel. I saw a door marked Bagno a little way back along the corridor. I bet if you ask one of the nurses, they’ll let you clean up in there and change.’ And quite possibly offer to come in and scrub your back for you, she thought to herself, as her eyes passed surreptitiously across his muscular body.

  Miles gave her a big smile. ‘You think of everything. I’ve been wandering round all day feeling very conspicuous in my cycling gear. I’ll go and get changed straightaway.’ He turned and headed for the door, stopping as he reached it. He looked back towards the bed. ‘Lars, have you spoken to the doctor? Your flight’s at 2.00pm and you need to be there by, say, midday, so you and Polly had better leave here at about nine o’clock to be on the safe side. Is that going to be okay?’

  Lars nodded. ‘They want me to stay here tonight, seeing as I banged my head, but any time tomorrow is fine, the doctor said.’ He pointed across the room. ‘I had a bit of a headache, but I hadn’t noticed that until they showed me. Look…’ Sarah and Miles followed his pointing finger with their eyes, and immediately realised what he meant. His helmet was lying on a spare chair and a large chunk had been broken out of the rear of it, exposing the straps inside. They exchanged glances as Lars stated the obvious. ‘I seem to have been very lucky.’

  Sarah caught Lars’s eye. ‘You’re not joking.’ She reached over and caught hold of his hand as Miles went off to change.

  They were still sitting like that, hand in hand, chatting about trivia when Miles came back. He was looking sheepish. ‘I’m afraid my brother gave me one of his T-shirts.’ Sarah glanced at his chest. The slogan printed on it ran, Education is important, but biceps are importanter. She found herself smiling. The T-shirt was a tight fit and from where she was sitting, although she could fault the grammar, she couldn’t fault the message. She stood up, bending over to kiss Lars on the cheeks and looked deep into those clear blue eyes. ‘Good luck, Lars. Get well soon and stay in touch.’

  ‘Get a good night’s sleep, Lars, and Polly’ll be here to collect you in the morning.’ Miles waited for Sarah by the door.

  ‘Goodbye both of you and thanks for everything.’ Lars gave them a little wave of the hand.

  Sarah blew him a kiss and followed Miles out to the van.

  ***

  By the time they got to Foligno, it was half past seven, and as they walked into the hotel lobby they found a little group waiting for news. Among them was Paul. He grinned when he saw his brother in the T-shirt and got a long-suffering grimace in return. Sarah told everybody that Lars was going to be all right, but that he would be flying home the next day, and they were all sorry to see him go.

  They were just walking through to the restaurant for dinner when Chuck and his two colleagues arrived back from a
sightseeing tour, full of praise for the beauties of this historic old town. Apparently they had just walked across a really high medieval aqueduct. Sarah glanced out of the door behind them. With the overcast sky, it was really quite dark outside by this time and she realised she wouldn’t be able to visit any of the sights for herself; not that she would have had any intention of walking across a high aqueduct anyway. In fact, she found herself feeling really quite tired after all the drama of the day and knew she would sleep well tonight, as long as her subconscious permitted.

  Sarah took a seat at the long table that had been prepared for them and vaguely registered that Paul was to her left and Chuck to her right, while Miles positioned himself diagonally opposite her with Gianluca beside him. Sarah was delighted to see Gianluca looking and sounding much more relaxed than a few days earlier and she felt sure a lot of this was down to his chat to Miles. Yet again she remembered how Miles’s caring side could get people, herself included, to unwind and talk. It was ironic that what Miles badly needed, she felt sure, was to find somebody to talk to himself. She was wondering how he was feeling and what was going through his head when she heard Paul’s voice.

  ‘Want a drop of wine? Maybe we should toast Lars. You been thinking about him?’

  Sarah nodded, reaching for her glass. ‘Yes, poor thing. And I’d love some red, please, Paul.’ He filled it to the brim and she took a very welcome mouthful. Setting the glass down, she turned to Chuck and Mike. ‘I’ve been meaning to thank you guys for helping out after the accident. It can’t have been easy climbing back up that muddy slope with an injured man.’ She gave Chuck a grin. ‘And even more difficult with a bike over your shoulder.’

  ‘Miles did all the heavy lifting.’ Mike glanced across at Miles. ‘All I did was try to stop myself from sliding off down the hill.’

  Sarah followed his eyes across to Miles. He was also looking tired. She felt a grin forming on her lips when she read his T-shirt again, the letters stretched by his muscular chest. As she was looking at him, he caught her eye and smiled, a lovely, gentle, uncomplicated smile, and her heart leapt. A wave of electric energy swept through her, threatening for an instant to make her squeal out loud, and she felt herself blushing. She dropped her eyes, her head spinning, and reached for her wineglass again. She kept her face down until she began to feel her head clear and then cautiously raised it again, careful to avoid looking across the table at Miles, fearful of the effect it might have on her. Instead, she turned her attention to his brother.

  ‘I’d better not drink too much wine. Tomorrow’s going to be a hard day.’ The next day promised to be hilly and long and, although she felt sure everybody in the group would be up for it, she knew it wasn’t going to be easy. A lot would depend on the weather. This was a safe, if hackneyed, way of changing the subject, so she opted for it. ‘I don’t suppose you’ve heard the forecast by any chance?’

  Paul shook his head, but Gianluca supplied the answer. ‘According to the local news, the sun’s coming back out again.’

  ‘Well, let’s hope so. No more slippery roads, please. And I got quite cold enough and wet enough today to last me for a good while.’ Sarah risked glancing across at Miles and noticed nothing on his face. Presumably he hadn’t seen the effect his simple smile had had upon her. On the one hand, she felt a sense of relief that he hadn’t seen her make a spectacle of herself, but on the other, she would have rather liked some sign that the moment had meant something special to him as well. But then, just to reinforce the normality of the situation, his phone rang and he excused himself, getting up and heading out into the lobby. His parting words were to Sarah.

  ‘Order something for me, would you, Sarah? I’ll have what you’re having.’

  For a second, she couldn’t repress the memory of the unforgettable diner scene with Meg Ryan in When Harry Met Sally. This led her mind off in a direction she had been studiously avoiding for some days now, and she reached for her wineglass again, this time with a shaky hand.

  Chapter 10

  Sarah slept fairly well. She had gone back to her room after dinner and watched television for a hour in an attempt to clear her head of the confusing thoughts and feelings stirred up by that single smile. She managed to find a documentary that included a piece about the artistic treasures of Orvieto, their next destination. She had never been there before and what she saw on TV was absolutely beautiful; the town perched high on a hilltop, with a cathedral that looked like it had come out of the same mould as the Duomo in Siena, striped with lines of dark and light marble. As she settled down for the night, she resolved to do her best to see as much of the town as possible. When she turned off the light, she lay there for some time, trying hard to concentrate on beautiful buildings and priceless artworks, rather than the man sleeping only a few doors way from her along the corridor, but it wasn’t easy.

  As she drifted off to sleep, her thoughts inevitably moved back to Miles and she wondered what would have happened if her wedding had gone ahead and she had come on this trip a married woman. Would she still have felt the same undeniable attraction for Miles and, if so, what would the effect of that have been on her? Would the feelings she knew she had already developed for him have emerged even though she had tied the knot with James? Mercifully, she fell asleep before reaching a conclusion.

  When she woke up next morning and checked the time on her watch, she got an unpleasant surprise. The time showing on the dial was a quarter past three. Outside her window it was quite obviously daytime so it appeared yesterday’s rain had finally done for her old watch. She wasn’t that surprised. She had been intending to replace it for some time and resolved to take a look at the duty-free shops at Rome airport on the way back. She checked her phone and saw that it was just after seven. For the next few days she would have to use her phone to get the time. She was pleased to see there was nothing from James. Last night she had sent him a terse reply, saying only Back Monday. Talk then.

  While riding along on the flat top of a ridge, affording phenomenal views to the south down the valley of the River Tiber in the direction of Rome, Sarah was delighted to be joined at the back of the group by Miles. She gave him a sunny smile, but received a fairly downbeat response. Although less troubled than a week ago, he was looking careworn again and she wondered what was wrong.

  ‘Hi, Miles, sleep well?’

  ‘I imagine you probably know the answer to that question by now.’ He sounded weary, and not just as a result of all the climbing they had been doing that morning. ‘I spent a lot of time thinking about what you were saying to me about Paul. I suppose you’re right and I need to give him a chance.’ He glanced across at her. ‘We all mature with age, even spoilt little brothers.’

  Sarah noticed his choice of adjective. ‘What makes you say he was spoilt?’

  Miles shook his head. ‘Although you wouldn’t know it to look at him now, he was a sickly kid. In fact, my parents told me he almost died at one point. In consequence he got all the attention.’ He corrected himself. ‘Well, not all of it, and of course he needed special care, but the fact is he never had to lift a finger all the time he was growing up.’

  ‘While you did?’ Sarah began to understand the reason the two brothers didn’t see eye to eye.

  ‘That’s why I had to come into the travel business straight from university. Mind out.’ They both swerved to avoid a massive pothole in the road. ‘My dad didn’t want me to stay on to do my MA. He finally relented, but he drew the line at the PhD. As for Paul, he got to take a couple of years out and then go off and do the MBA. Sorry, Sarah, it makes me sound like Cinderella. It wasn’t like that at all, but I suppose that’s why I still think of him as a flibbertigibbet. He’s never had to put his nose to the grindstone like I have.’

  ‘Well, all your hard work’s certainly paid off. Everybody says you’ve done wonders for the company. The whole US operation was set up by you, wasn’t it?’

  He nodded. After a good minute or two he glanced across at her,
clearly doing his best to sound cheerful. ‘Ah well, who knows? Maybe I’d have been a rotten history professor.’

  ‘I reckon you’d have been great.’

  The level ridge concluded with a long, fast descent to the valley floor that all of them enjoyed. From time to time, as the road snaked down through the vineyards and olive trees covering the hillside, they began to make out the unmistakable outline of Orvieto itself, on the opposite side of the river. As Sarah had seen on the television last night, the town was positioned on a flat-topped hill, several hundred metres above the river. The bad news, they realised as the reached the valley bottom, was that they had to climb it. And it looked steep.

  After a long, hot day in the sun these last few kilometres seemed never-ending. They climbed up and up, rounding hairpin bends on their way to the top, the view getting better and better, although most of them kept their eyes glued to the road, just praying for the climb to end. Sarah was particularly pleased to see Paul taking the trouble to slow down and cycle alongside Jean-Pierre and Véronique, something he had done with other slower members of the group the previous day. Sarah hoped his brother had noticed. This, surely, was a good sign as far as Paul’s commitment to the company was concerned. When they finally emerged onto the cobbles in front of the cathedral, with its amazing zebra pattern of black-and-white stripes of marble, it felt very good indeed. And all of them made it without the need of Polly and her minibus. Sarah was delighted to see that Chuck was well up in the pack on the last climb, riding alongside Mike and Dan, his strength improving by the day.

  Their hotel was right in the old historic centre of town, little more than a five-minute walk from the cathedral, and it, too, proved to be a great choice, discovered by Polly and Lynnie the previous year. It was a rabbit warren of dark corridors and creaky floors, but the rooms were spacious and quiet, and Sarah’s had phenomenal views over the tiled roofs of this wonderful town to the Tuscan hills beyond. Thoughts of Lynnie and her broken leg made Sarah resolve to send her a postcard. Lynnie would have enjoyed doing the ride as much as she was, and was no doubt finding her enforced idleness very trying.

 

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