From Venice With Love

by Alison Roberts

  Excitement. The kind a small child would have creeping downstairs too early on Christmas morning and seeing the magic of the gifts under the tree. Gifts for her.

  Did she dare to pick one up and rattle it? Tear off a tiny piece of wrapping paper to see if she could guess what was inside?

  But what if it wasn’t what she wanted? Maybe the anticipation was better than reality.

  ‘I went to the hospital,’ Nico explained. ‘I knew you’d want to know how our man from yesterday was getting on.’

  To her shame, no doubt due to the emotional roller-coaster the day had presented, Charlotte had barely given the man another thought. So much for her heartfelt presentation yesterday about the medicine they practised being about the people. But Nico was right. She could feel her face light up in her eagerness to know the outcome. This was the kind of excitement she was used to. This was what she needed to focus on.

  ‘He’s doing well.’ Nico’s smile was one of pure delight. ‘He had an angioplasty and half a dozen stents put in. His broken leg’s been sorted and he’s sitting up in the coronary care unit and you’d never know he’d been dead for a while. No evidence of any brain damage even.’

  ‘Really? That’s…astonishing. Our CPR must have been up to standard, then.’

  ‘A little more than that, I think.’ Nico put his arm around Charlotte’s shoulders as he turned towards Lady Geraldine. ‘We are an amazing team. And here we are, about to have an adventure. I am The happiest man on earth.’

  Lady Geraldine was beaming at them. The check-in clerk was smiling mistily but then she collected herself. ‘Here are your boarding passes. We’ll take care of the suitcases and you can take your cabin baggage with you. I wish you the happiest of journeys.’

  Lady Geraldine merely nodded. ‘It will be,’ she said softly. She winked at Charlotte. ‘All that remains to be seen is which of us is the happiest woman on earth today.’

  Lady Geraldine needed some assistance to climb up the steps And negotiate the narrow corridor of the train carriage. The first impression was the glow of polished wood and brass. And lights. Lamps casting a soft glow. Fairy lights in honour of the season, looped at ceiling height on the internal wall and twinkling merrily. The doors had small wreaths festooned with artificial cherries and tiny golden bells.

  Even more overwhelming than the warm glow of the wood and lights was a sense of confinement. The cabins were tiny with no more than a richly upholstered double seat and a tiny table beneath the window. A washstand was cleverly incorporated into a corner.

  For most passengers this would have been their total space but with a suite, a door beside the washstand cabinet was open, leading to the adjoining cabin where the seats had already been turned into comfortable-looking bunk beds with crisp white linen and soft-looking towels folded on the ends.

  For one person, it would have been the ultimate in spaciousness aboard the train. For a couple, it still would have been more than enough. To share this amount of space with Nico Moretti was something entirely different. There didn’t seem to be enough oxygen in the small spaces.

  Their personal steward served champagne as the train pulled out of Santa Lucia station while Charlotte was checking that Lady Geraldine was settling comfortably into her suite. Nico joined them as the steward pointed out features of the cabins, including the bell that would summon him for assistance at any time of the day or night.

  ‘The maître d’ will visit your cabin soon to take your lunch and dinner reservations. Our restaurant cars have tables for two or four people.’

  ‘We are a party of three,’ Charlotte informed him. And how lucky was that? No chance of an intimate table for two with soft lighting and too much champagne. If she could put up good enough barriers around that part of her that was so drawn to this man she would be safe from making a complete fool of herself.

  Was that a significant look that her grandmother was sharing with Nico?

  ‘This is your gift,’ Charlotte added, for good measure. ‘And we intend to share every possible moment of it with you. Don’t we, Nico?’

  Nico seemed to be relishing the champagne and he merely lifted his glass in a toast of agreement.

  There wasn’t room for three people to sit in one cabin. Charlotte sat beside her grandmother as they opened and perused the map of the journey. Nico stood near the door, apparently enjoying the scenery through the corridor windows and chatting to other passengers as they went past.

  They chose the first sitting for lunch and it was Nico who insisted on helping Lady Geraldine negotiate the route and cope with the sometimes jerky motion of the train. It took a long time to get through several carriages and through the bar car before they got to one of the restaurant cars, especially when everything had to be explored and admired.

  ‘The bathroom is amazing,’ Lady Geraldine declared after their first stop to wait for her, which was right beside her suite at the end of their carriage. ‘The toilet seat is made of mahogany and everything else is brass. Even the cover for the paper. And it’s all so clean and shiny.’

  The resident pianist was not yet playing the baby grand piano in the bar but they had to stop there as well.

  ‘Play something, Charlotte,’ Lady Geraldine commanded.

  ‘I can’t do that.’ Charlotte was horrified. ‘I haven’t played a piano for years and I’m quite sure it’s not allowed, anyway.’

  But the handsome young man polishing glasses behind the wooden bar grinned. ‘Go ahead,’ he invited. ‘It’s too early to bother anyone.’

  ‘Please, Charlotte.’ Lady Geraldine was heading for a nearby seat. ‘For me? It’s so long since I heard you play.’

  And she might never hear her again?

  ‘Yes…Please, Charlotte.’ Nico’s smile was mischievous. ‘I’m curious about your splinter skills.’

  Oh, for heaven’s sake. Charlotte realised she wasn’t going to win and the best way of avoiding stress in getting through this voyage was clearly going to be taking the path of least resistance. She slid herself onto the piano stool and raised the lid on the gleaming keys. She had taken lessons for years as a child and playing for pleasure had been a feature of every visit to her grandmother’s house. Until…until her life had changed overnight.

  Her hands shook for a moment as she held them over the keys. Maybe the least stressful response would have been to refuse to do this but now it was too late and if she didn’t, she might be expected to provide an explanation.

  Flicking a glance upwards Charlotte knew that Nico had seen the tell-tale tremor of her hands. She willed them to be still. Willed herself to continue, much as she’d forced herself to start that presentation in Nico’s presence yesterday. The only piece she could think of to play by heart was Beethoven’s ‘Moonlight Sonata’.

  The first notes were tentative but the piano was beautiful and within a few bars Charlotte was drawn in to the haunting sound of the music. Her stiff fingers relaxed as she remembered the release that this had once brought her. The pleasure of doing something for herself that had nothing to do with work. Mindless and satisfying and restorative. Just…pleasure…

  ‘Bravo…’ Nico’s eyes were full of admiration as the last notes died away.

  ‘I knew those piano lessons were worth every penny.’ Lady Geraldine held her hand out for Nico to help her to her feet. ‘Now, let’s go and have some lunch.’

  The lunch was three courses of beautifully prepared and presented food but Lady Geraldine only picked at hers and didn’t touch the tarte tatin served for dessert.

  ‘I’m a little tired,’ she confessed. ‘I think I’ll go back to my cabin and rest for a while.’

  ‘I’ll come and keep you company,’ Charlotte offered immediately.

  ‘No. I might need some help to get back without being knocked off my feet but I need some quiet time. I might have a nap.’

  Charlotte felt her level of concern ramp up. Gran hadn’t eaten much and now she looked pale. Was she in pain?

  It wa
s Nico’s arm that Lady Geraldine chose to lean on to keep her balance and they had to stop at frequent intervals to allow other people to pass on their way to the restaurants.

  One of those people was another elderly woman whose head turned in surprise as she took another look.

  ‘Lady Geraldine? Jendi?’

  ‘Oh, my goodness. Winsome Black. What on earth are you doing here?’

  ‘I could ask you the same thing. What an astonishing coincidence.’

  Lady Geraldine’s head shake was incredulous. ‘It’s a small world, isn’t it?’ She turned to Charlotte. ‘Winsome’s an old friend that I haven’t seen for years. We worked together once on a huge fundraiser for that children’s charity.’

  ‘One Last Wish.’ Winsome nodded at Charlotte. ‘Such a worthy cause. They made wishes come true for terminally ill children.’

  ‘This is my granddaughter, Charlotte,’ Lady Geraldine said.

  ‘And this is my grandson, Connor.’ The good-looking young man, who was clearly aware of how much space they were all taking up in the narrow corridor, smiled at Charlotte and offered her his hand.

  She shook it with an equally conspiratorial smile. They had something in common, didn’t they? Here they both were in the company of grandmothers with…personality.

  ‘Charlotte and her fiancé are keeping me company,’ Lady Geraldine was confiding in Winsome. Her smile was poignant. ‘This trip is my last wish…’

  ‘Oh, surely not.’ Winsome smiled. ‘I seem to remember you telling me that age is only an attitude.’

  Lady Geraldine opened her mouth but then noticed the human traffic jam they were creating in the corridor. ‘We’d better get a move on,’ she said. ‘But we must get together, Winsome, and have a proper chat.’

  ‘That would be lovely.’

  ‘How about afternoon tea? We could meet in the bar at, say, four o’clock?’

  ‘See you then.’ With a smile, Winsome continued on her way.

  Charlotte wondered if the arrangement might be too much given that her grandmother had already said she needed a rest, but the sparkle in the elderly woman’s eyes chased away the worry that her condition was deteriorating and that this trip would prove too much for her.

  ‘Oh, look…the queue at the gift shop has gone. Let’s see what they have.’

  Charlotte was quite happy to linger and look at the souvenirs available. The more time they spent doing things like this, the less time she would have to spend with Nico, alone in their cabin while Gran had a rest.

  You could buy hand-blown crystal glasses and crockery with the Orient Express insignia. There were salt and pepper shakers, travel accessories in blue velvet, photo frames and even jewellery.

  Lady Geraldine chose a specially bound copy of Agatha Christie’s Murder on the Orient Express. And then she ordered Charlotte and Nico to choose a gift for themselves.

  ‘A selection of wine glasses would be a lovely engagement present,’ she suggested.

  ‘You are celebrating an engagement?’ The tall man with a heavy accent who ran the gift boutique sighed happily. ‘I tell everybody that this is the train of love…’

  ‘This trip is the gift, Gran. Remember? We don’t need anything else.’

  But the tall man was putting things on the counter in front of Nico. ‘For your beautiful lady?’ he murmured. ‘A special memory, perhaps?’

  Blue velvet cases were being opened to display pearl necklaces on silver chains that had clasps engraved with the train’s insignia. Silver and gold bangles were similarly engraved. A chain bracelet had tiny silver charms like a train carriage, a conductor’s whistle and a pillbox hat but Nico was picking up another bracelet. He held it up to show Charlotte.

  ‘Do you like this, cara?’

  Tiny silver hearts linked together. A delicate piece of jewellery.

  Romantic.

  Charlotte opened her mouth to tell him that she didn’t wear jewellery but out of the corner of her eye she saw the way her grandmother was pressing a hand to her throat. Holding her breath as she witnessed evidence of the love her granddaughter had finally found?

  ‘It’s…lovely.’ Let him buy it, she told herself. She could reimburse him later.

  Nico not only purchased the bracelet, he insisted on putting it on Charlotte’s wrist. His fingers brushed her skin as he fed the rod of the clasp through the silver circle engraved with the name of the train.

  He smiled at her then. Just the way he had when he’d sat at their table last night. As though she was the only woman in the world for him. As if he was so deeply in love that nothing else mattered.

  She knew he was going to kiss her. The tall man wanted it to happen. Her grandmother wanted it to happen.

  And, God help her, she wanted it to happen.

  It was just a kiss and her lips were ready for it this time, already soft and slightly parted. If she sat down at a piano any time soon again, she would probably find that her fingers were instantly ready for the release of music too. The pleasure to be found. The connections between her fingers and her brain and her heart had unexpectedly been woken up after a very long sleep.

  Like her lips had been?

  Not that it was a passionate kiss, of course. Just a gentle pressure. But the promise was there. And no matter how fiercely Charlotte told herself that she didn’t want this and couldn’t go there, her body was defying her. The shaft of desire was so much more intense after last night. How on earth was she going to cope with the rest of this journey? Where were some new barriers when she needed them?

  At least Nico left her alone to do some more exploring after Lady Geraldine was settled back into her cabin behind a closed door. It gave Charlotte time to try and rebuild her defences. To plan how she could get through the next hours. Maybe one of them could sleep in here, on the seat? At the very least she could choose the top bunk so that she wouldn’t have Nico climbing past inches away from her face. What did he wear in bed? Oh, God…imagine him climbing up wearing nothing but a pair of silk boxers or skin-hugging cotton knit underwear. And even with the highly unlikely possibility that he had a pair of flannelette pyjamas in his bag, she’d still be aware of him sleeping beneath her, wouldn’t she? She would hear his breathing. Feel the warmth of his presence. All night.

  Heavens, it was warm in here. Charlotte adjusted the central heating radiator beneath the window and even opened the top window a little for some fresh air. She was just beginning to feel calmer when Nico returned to the cabin.

  He was carrying a bottle of champagne in a silver ice bucket. Two crystal glasses dangled from his other hand. He leaned against the door with a smile of invitation curling the corners of his mouth.

  What woman would be able to resist?

  Charlotte, that’s who, with her grandmother safely shut away and all the good work of calming herself down undone in an instant.

  It wasn’t hard to glare at Nico as though he was committing an unpardonable sin. ‘What on earth are you thinking?’ she snapped. ‘I hope you’re not planning to get me drunk so you can take advantage of me again.’

  Again?

  Nico shoved the cabin door shut with his foot. The champagne had seemed like a good idea. They were supposed to be celebrating their engagement, weren’t they? They didn’t have to drink the damned stuff. And what was wrong with trying to make this journey as pleasant as possible, anyway?

  What was Charlotte’s problem?

  ‘Take advantage of you?’ He kept his voice quiet but allowed it to cool noticeably. ‘Is that how you see this?’

  Her voice was small. ‘No.’

  At least she had the grace to look embarrassed but it wasn’t good enough.

  ‘On balance, I suspect most people would consider you to be taking advantage of me right about now.’

  ‘You agreed.’ Charlotte had two bright spots of colour on her cheeks and her tone was accusing. ‘This was all your idea—’

  ‘I have gone out of my way to help you,’ Nico interrupted, dumping th
e ice bucket and glasses on the table by the window, oblivious to the glorious scenery of the Italian Dolomites rushing past in the distance. ‘And it is not because I have any intention of “taking advantage” of you. You are the complete opposite of the type of woman I find attractive.’

  A curious expression changed Charlotte’s features. She looked…hurt? Disappointed? Surely not. The expression was gone as quickly as it had appeared but it took the wind out of Nico’s sails. His anger evaporating, he sank down onto the seat beside her. ‘Do you want to know the real reason?’ he asked.

  ‘Mmm?’ The sound was somewhat strangled but Charlotte was looking at her hands, which were clasped tightly together in her lap.

  ‘You fascinate me,’ Nico said simply. An honest statement, dragged from a deep place, possibly against his better judgement.

  There was a long moment of silence but Nico let it ride as he tried to shut down the implications. Why did this interest feel so very different from the attraction a woman usually had for him? Was it a threat?

  Very slowly, Charlotte finally raised her head. Her eyes were a dark, stormy grey and they were wide and puzzled. Fearful, almost.

  ‘Why?’ The word was a whisper.

  Why indeed?

  ‘You’re a beautiful woman, Carlotta.’ The Italian version of her name came to his lips unbidden. ‘You are also very intelligent and successful. I have a great admiration for your professional abilities.’ He could feel a corner of his mouth quirk. ‘You are also surprisingly talented at playing the piano.’

  A snort of mirth escaped Charlotte as she shook her head, encouraging a lock of hair to escape the tight ponytail she was wearing today.

  Nico couldn’t resist catching that lock and smoothing it back behind her ear. ‘I believe that people come into your life for a reason,’ he added quietly. ‘I find myself in an extraordinary place, if only for a limited time, and I have to wonder if fate has brought us together because we have something we can learn from each other.’

  She was looking at him now as if he’d grown two heads. ‘Like what?’

  ‘I don’t know.’ Nico shrugged. ‘Maybe it’s your astonishing grandmother I was destined to meet. To learn how one can make the most of life until the very end. Or how to face the prospect of that end with such dignity and courage.’