by T A Williams
‘Where were you thinking of taking us tomorrow, Marina?’
‘I was told you wanted to start in the mountains. Is that right?’
‘Yes, the main character, Emily, and her governess have travelled down from London by train and they start their Italian tour in the high mountains just this side of the railway tunnel at, I think, Bardonecchia. Does that sound right?’
‘That’s right. The problem with that valley is that since then they’ve built a road tunnel alongside the old railway tunnel and there’s now an autostrada running up the middle of the valley, so I thought we should go for somewhere a bit quieter, but still in the Alps.’
That sounded perfect to Emma. She nodded in agreement and Marina carried on.
‘The valleys north of here leading into the Alps are very pretty and they’re well off the normal tourist trail. I’ve earmarked a few places I hope you’ll find suitably scenic and romantic and I’ve arranged for a local man to meet us up there and show us around. Is there anything specific to the plot of the movie that you need to have? I don’t know… a church or a fountain or some such?’
‘Let me see… the scenes in the mountains are right at the beginning of the story and the heroine, Emily, is still furious and bitterly resentful of the way she’s been effectively banished from England by her domineering father. So probably not so much charming Alpine pastures and big brown-eyed cows with bells round their necks looking cute, but something a bit more stark, a bit more melancholy. Okay?’
‘I’ll tell Cesare, the man who’s meeting us up there, and we’ll see what he can come up with. As far as Turin’s concerned, I haven’t set anything up as I was told you weren’t interested in the main cities. That is right, isn’t it?’
‘Absolutely.’
‘Anyway, if you do decide to take a look around Turin while we’re here, you’ll find it’s a fine historic city – and the shops are great – but I wouldn’t really place it particularly high on my list of romantic places.’
‘That’s pretty much what I’d thought. As you know, our route over the next two weeks should take us down from here to the Mediterranean coast, from there into Tuscany and then we start curling back northwards, ending up in Venice. If you can come up with some suggestions for places along the way, that’ll be great.’
They chatted about the route and Emma definitely got the impression Marina knew what she was talking about. It emerged that her father had been an officer in the Carabinieri and so the family had moved around all over northern Italy as she was growing up. As a result, she was familiar with a lot of the areas of interest for the film. Emma nodded in silent satisfaction. It looked like Dexter had done it again. She resolved to buy him a little present when the time came to return to LA. She might even get something for Elliot if things went smoothly on the set of Sweet Memories.
The hotel was a very modern conversion of a fine, old building right in the heart of the city. The city itself, once they had crawled in through the very unprepossessing suburban industrial sprawl, was charming. Marina had obviously been doing her homework as she gave them a brief history of the city as they drove in.
She told them that Turin had been home to the House of Savoy and the first King of Italy and it exuded prosperity and power. The magnificent wide boulevards with their covered arcades were lined with imposing eighteenth- and nineteenth-century buildings, reflecting the wealth the city had accumulated in the wake of Italy’s industrial revolution, culminating in the birth of FIAT, the Fabbrica Italiana Automobili Torino. Emma had never realised what the acronym stood for before and, certainly, there was no shortage of modern-day Fiats everywhere she looked.
Their hotel was set in the middle of a very classy shopping area with big-name fashion houses lining the arcaded walkways. Emma resolved to reserve a few hours for some retail therapy. She had always loved Italian shoes and she was determined to look for replacements for her scruffy, if comfortable, sandals.
Once they had checked in, Emma sat down in her room and checked her work email account. There were a couple of emails that needed urgent action for Sweet Memories, so she forwarded them on to Elliot with detailed instructions. It wasn’t, she repeated to herself, that she didn’t think him capable, but she just wanted to be sure that he would do the right thing. She almost believed herself. Once she was finally as sure as she could be that things in Hollywood were sorted, she went down to meet the other two in the stylish hotel bar. Rich looked up as she came in.
‘Finally finished work for the day, boss?’
‘Hopefully.’
Rich glanced across at Marina and explained. ‘Emma never really stops. Every time I looked at her on the plane she was on her laptop, and not watching movies.’
Emma shook her head slowly. ‘I’m not really a workaholic, but I’ve got another movie about to start shooting on Monday and I need to be sure everything’s in order.’ An image of herself, sitting at her desk in an echoing, empty building came to mind and she found herself wondering just who she was trying to fool. With her, work always had come first, to the detriment of almost anything else, starting with her personal life. Still, it had all been worthwhile, hadn’t it?
Marina looked mildly surprised. ‘Haven’t you got an assistant?’
Rich was quick to clarify the situation. ‘Emma’s got a replacement covering for her and she’s scared he’ll screw up.’
This was a bit too close to the truth so Emma didn’t comment. She just ordered herself a glass of mineral water like Rich and Marina and changed the subject to Italy, listening with interest as Marina brought them up to speed with Italy’s current political and financial problems. Apparently back at the time of Dreaming of Italy, things hadn’t been brilliant either, especially out in the country, away from big industrial hubs like Turin. Emma made a note to add this to her report. It might be worthwhile including a mention of rural poverty in the movie.
They went up to the top-floor restaurant for an early evening meal after which Emma had every intention of crashing out. Sitting down to an Italian meal brought a host of memories flooding back to her and she wondered what sort of thoughts it might awaken in Richard. He hadn’t done a lot of talking downstairs in the bar and she could see he was still a bit tense. As she got to know him better, she found she liked him more and more and she resolved to be as supportive as she could. He had a long, hard road ahead of him and if she could help, she would. Hopefully, he would gradually relax more and more as he got over the jetlag.
Marina explained to them that Turin and the whole region of Piemonte – which meant literally ‘at the foot of the mountains’ – was famous for its antipasti. Apparently, meals here could consist of as many as ten or even twenty different starters, before moving on to the next courses. After just a few small snacks on the flights, Emma was hungry, but not that hungry, and she opted to go for the antipasti first and reserve judgement on whether to have another course until she knew how much room she would have left after all the starters.
As it turned out, the answer to that was quite simple: none.
A succession of waiters began to appear at regular intervals bearing silver salvers, from which they deposited spoonfuls of food onto their plates. This entire process took almost an hour and by the end, Emma knew she was full. Finally, she sat back and tried to remember just what delicacies she had been served.
First there had been homemade Russian salad and a vast selection of salami and ham, then crostini: pieces of toasted bread covered with porcini mushrooms in a truffle sauce. This was followed by roast onions and slices of cotechino – a thick warm, boiled sausage accompanied by mashed potato – and then red peppers grilled and covered with a thick sauce made of anchovies and garlic. In spite of its potentially lethal-sounding ingredients, this sauce turned out to be exquisite. After that had come tomatoes stuffed with cheese and breadcrumbs, slices of veal in a tuna sauce, slices of tongue covered in a rich green parsley-based sauce, tiny round pieces of cheese, some topped with a spicy red s
auce, others with a chunky green sauce made with parsley, garlic and olive oil and, finally, roast potatoes liberally smothered in gorgonzola.
Along with this feast, they ate the local breadsticks and she and Marina drank an amazing light red wine called Grignolino that fizzed as it landed in their glasses but then settled down almost immediately. Altogether, it was a wonderful introduction to the cuisine of this part of north-western Italy and Emma made a point of photographing the spread before them, determined to suggest incorporating a Piemontese meal in the film at some point. While anchovies and garlic maybe weren’t as romantic as oysters or caviar, the end result was that Emma felt pleasantly replete, her taste buds tickled and very definitely ready for bed. It did occur to her that it was just as well she would be sleeping alone. After all the garlic, she had a fair idea that her breath would probably be able to kill at a range of several feet. One thing was for sure – there would be no vampires in her room tonight.
She was particularly pleased to see Rich gradually begin to come out of his shell and start to enjoy the meal. He refused any wine, declaring himself quite happy with cold mineral water and Emma reflected that his abstinence might be good for her, too. Last time she had been in Italy as a student, she had definitely overdone it and she knew she needed to keep a clear head this time.
In the course of the meal, it also became quite clear to Emma that Marina found the tall, taciturn American really rather appealing and Emma found herself hoping nothing would develop between them that might endanger the success of this mission. The last thing she needed was a broken-hearted guide or two members of their little group refusing to talk to each other. She had always been very much against relationships within the workplace, but she decided not to say anything to either of them for now, resolving to keep a close eye on how their relationship was developing. At least, she told herself, it didn’t look as though Rich was too interested in allowing anything to develop anyway. That same rather bleak, detached air was still apparent from time to time and, while definitely sounding a bit more laid-back, he was still very reserved. Once again she resolved to do her best to help him along.
After the antipasti, she sat back and watched as tall Rich and diminutive Marina managed to put away helpings of four different types of pasta, ranging from agnolotti filled with mozzarella and basil to spaghetti in a rich, dark wild boar sauce. She resisted Marina’s attempts to get her to try a dessert of chestnut-based Castagnaccio tart accompanied by the chef’s homemade ice cream, but she did relent and have a couple of the silky-smooth Gianduia chocolates at the very end as she finished her glass of wine. She was mildly impressed to see that there was still wine left in the bottle. It looked as though Marina was also going slow on the booze which, considering she was the driver, boded well. All in all, it was an excellent first meal in Italy and she made a mental note to include some serious exercise in her daily regime or she was going to need a whole new wardrobe if she kept on eating like this.
As they were just about to head up to their rooms she remembered the historical advisor.
‘Marina, we’re going to need somebody who can advise on the historical aspects of all the places we’re visiting. Do you know anything about that?’
Marina nodded. ‘Yes, my boss called me earlier today. It’s all arranged. The guy’s tied up today but he’ll meet up with us tomorrow or Sunday down by the coast, if that’s all right with you. He’ll then stay for as long as you want him.’
‘That’ll be fine. We don’t really need a historical expert for our trip into the mountains tomorrow anyway, do we? Can you tell me anything about him?’
‘All I know is that he’s called Mark and he’s half-English.’
‘And he’s an expert in Italian history?’
‘Apparently. He lives here in Italy, somewhere in Tuscany, I think. Don’t worry, he’ll be fine, I’m sure. He’s a close personal friend of my boss, Gianluca, and I know he’ll vouch for him.’
‘Have you worked with him before?’
‘No, but he comes highly recommended.’
Emma crossed her fingers all the same.
Chapter 4
Saturday dawned bright and clear. So clear in fact that from her room on the fourth floor, Emma had an unbroken view of the stunning crescent of the Alps that ringed the city to the west and north. The distant snow-clad peaks stood out in stark contrast against the deep cerulean blue of the sky. Although a hazy cap of dirty air lay over the city itself, the sky in the distance was clear and she felt sure she should be able to get some good photos today.
Breakfast was a buffet affair, but Emma limited herself to some fresh fruit salad, a warm croissant and a wonderful cappuccino. There was just one problem: there was no sign of Richard. She and Marina waited for him until it was almost nine o’clock and then Emma went up to his room. She tapped on the door and waited for almost a minute until she heard a croaky voice from inside.
‘Yes, who is it?’
‘It’s me… Emma. Are you up, Rich?’
There was a rattling and the door was pulled open. It was dark in his room, the curtains still drawn together, but she could clearly see that he was only wearing a pair of boxers. She took a couple of steps backwards.
‘Everything okay, Rich? It’s nine o’clock and we were supposed to meet up half an hour ago. Marina and I were getting worried.’
He looked shell-shocked and for a moment the thought even passed through her head that he might be stoned. But his response was heartening. He suddenly straightened up, ran his hands though his hair, and glanced back at the bedside table.
‘Shit, I forgot to set the alarm on my phone.’ He looked back up at her. ‘Look, Emma, I’m really sorry. I’ll be down in twenty, I promise. I’m so, so sorry.’
‘No worries. At least you’re all right. Get yourself dressed and we’ll be downstairs waiting.’
He was true to his word. He arrived, still damp from the shower, water dripping off his hair, and Emma definitely felt she could detect a growl of animal attraction from their guide.
‘Sorry again, boss. I promise I’ll do better tomorrow.’ He glanced across at Marina. ‘Will we be back here in time for me to buy a few things?’ He produced a shamefaced smile. ‘I never was much good at packing. I think I might need more than one pair of boxers.’
‘Yes, of course. The shops are open until seven or seven thirty so you should have ample time to buy all the underwear you want.’
Emma wondered if she would have time to do a bit of shoe shopping for herself as well. Shrugging that thought to one side, she switched into serious Hollywood executive mode and took the lead. ‘Right, then, now that we’re all here, let’s get started.’ She was conscious that they had a lot of Italy to cover and only just under two weeks in which to do everything. She glanced over at Marina. ‘Where to?’
‘Today we’re going up into the Valli di Lanzo. They’re a series of narrow valleys leading roughly northwards towards the high Alps. The one I’ve chosen ends up against the mountain range beyond which is the Val d’Isère in France. I’m sure you’ll find it’s a very beautiful and a relatively unknown area.’
This all sounded good. While Rich had a hasty espresso, Marina retrieved the car from the underground car park and they were soon heading north. As they drove, Marina asked for a bit more detail on the sort of locations that interested them.
‘Can you give me a rough idea of the plot, if it isn’t too secret? It’ll just help me come up with suitable places and it might save us some time.’
This sounded like a very sensible idea to Emma. She glanced back over her shoulder and decided to give Rich a chance to show what he knew.
‘Did you finish reading the screenplay last night, Rich?’
‘Sort of. I actually went out like a light, but I was wide awake at about three so I sat up and finished it then.’
‘And you liked it?’
‘Yep, I liked it a lot.’ He smiled. ‘I didn’t realise my old man was such a romantic.’
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‘Good, well, why don’t you give Marina a brief summary?’
He leant forward so that his elbows were on the backs of their seats. Emma moved to one side to give him space but she noticed that Marina appeared quite happy to feel his forearm resting against her shoulder. Emma hoped this wasn’t going to take her mind off the road.
‘It’s a love story and it takes place right before the outbreak of the First World War. There’s this girl, Emily. She’s English and she’s been sent abroad by her father because she’s got mixed up in the suffragette movement – you know, votes for women and all that. Anyway, she’s travelling around Italy with her governess and she runs into this guy. It’s love at first sight for her, although she struggles to come to terms with it because she’s very much against all men at this point in her life. Besides, she can’t work him out. He’s always very reserved and… I suppose you could say he’s a bit troubled. Anyway, as she travels down to Tuscany and beyond he keeps popping up all over the place and their relationship deepens.’
‘So she falls in love with him, but does he fall in love with her, too?’ Marina accelerated past a big truck, disdainfully ignoring the No Overtaking sign at the side of the road.
Rich nodded. ‘You don’t see it from his point of view but, for my money, yes. He falls head over heels in love with her. I’m sure of it.’
‘So there’s a happy ending?’
Emma decided it was time to interrupt the narrative. ‘You’ll have to wait until the movie comes out.’ She grinned across at Marina. ‘But if all goes well – and we’ve got two of the biggest stars playing the leading roles – we’re hoping this particular love story will break a few box-office records.’