Dreaming of Italy: A stunning and heartwarming holiday romance

by T A Williams

  Emma didn’t know what to say. ‘I’m so sorry, Ethan, but you do understand, don’t you?’

  ‘Hell, yeah.’ She could hear that he was doing his best to put on a brave face. ‘Of course I understand. Let’s just hope for your sake that Mark realises what’s at stake here. You’re a great girl. He doesn’t want to throw that away for the sake of a roll in the hay with Laney.’

  Chapter 17

  It took Emma quite a long time to get off to sleep that night and when she woke in the morning she wasn’t feeling as bright as normal. She glanced at her phone and saw it was just six thirty, but the sun was already up and the sky once more a clear blue. In an attempt to kick-start her brain she decided to go for a swim. So she slipped into her bikini, wrapped herself in a bath towel and set off for the pool. When she got there, she found the wooden gate open and heard the sound of splashing from within. For a moment she hoped it might be Mark having an early morning swim and she hurried down the path towards the water. She was almost there when the thought dawned on her that this might be Laney and Mark indulging in a bit of post-coital skinny-dipping. She almost turned back, but gritted her teeth and decided to press on.

  When she got to the pool, she found that the swimmer had four legs and a tail. Carmen was swimming about in the clear water, snuffling happily as she did so. Emma stopped and looked around, but saw nobody.

  ‘Mark! Are you there?’ There was no response so she went over to the side and crouched down. ‘Ciao, Carmen. Enjoying yourself?’

  The Labrador doggy-paddled towards her and scrabbled at the tiles, a broad smile on her face. Emma remembered that the dog had trouble getting out of the pool, so she slipped off her towel and sandals and lowered herself into the water. It was cool at this time of day, but very refreshing.

  ‘So what’re you doing here on your own, eh, dog?’

  Carmen came across to nuzzle her and Emma swam with her for a few minutes, enjoying the sensation of having a happy dog alongside her and doing her unsuccessful best to banish the thought of who might currently be alongside her master. Was he still in bed? And if so, was he alone?

  Although the dog was clearly still full of energy, after a while Emma decided it was time for the two of them to get out of the water. She enticed Carmen to the shallow end and, aping what Mark had done, got behind her and shoved her up the steps and out of the water. She swilled herself off and followed along behind, narrowly avoiding being sprayed with Eau de Labrador as the dog shook herself vigorously. She was standing under the outdoor shower when she heard his voice.

  ‘Hi, Emma. Thanks for looking after Carmen for me.’

  She turned off the shower and shook the water out of her eyes. As she did so, she felt a touch on her hand. It was her towel, being offered to her by Mark. He looked apologetic.

  ‘I’m so sorry you had to do that. We were out for our early-morning walk and she suddenly disappeared. It took me a while to realise where she’d gone. I’m going to murder that carpenter next time I see him. It’s a nice gate, but if the damn thing doesn’t close, what’s the point?’

  Emma wiped the worst of the water off her hair and face before wrapping the towel around her once more. ‘No apology needed. We had a lovely swim.’ She glanced across at him and risked a direct question. ‘Good night?’

  She saw him smile sheepishly. ‘Now I know what the fox feels like with a pack of hounds after it. That Laney’s like a little terrier when she’s after something.’

  ‘Or somebody.’

  ‘Indeed, or somebody.’ He sat down on the same bench she and Ethan had sat on the previous night and absently stroked the damp dog who settled down at his feet. Emma followed suit, a discrete distance away until she heard his story.

  ‘So, did the pack of hounds manage to get their teeth into their quarry?’

  He shook his head and she felt a surge of relief. Doing her best to sound casual, she queried what had happened. His reply was reassuring.

  ‘I didn’t know what to do. I’m not the most observant of men when it comes to women, but even I worked out pretty early on that for some reason she had me in her sights. It put me in an uncomfortable position.’

  ‘I’m sure being the object of desire of the world’s most beautiful woman must be extremely uncomfortable.’ There was a distinctly ironic note in her voice and he didn’t miss it. He glanced over at her.

  ‘Just about as uncomfortable as finding yourself kissing the sexiest man in the world.’ There was a smile on his face, but she thought she could spot a glimmer of insecurity in there as well. She gave him an answering smile.

  ‘Indeed. You tell me yours and then I’ll tell you mine. How about that?’

  ‘Okay, well, like I say, I found myself in an awkward position. One thing was clear. There was no way I was going to end up in bed with Laney Travers.’ This sounded pretty good to Emma, but she just nodded, reserving judgement until she heard the whole story. ‘But I knew I couldn’t just turn her down flat or she might blow a gasket and maybe even storm off and leave the movie without its big star. So, after a bit of hard thinking, I told her I was already involved with somebody else.’

  Emma’s ears pricked up. ‘And are you?’

  ‘No, or rather, maybe.’ Emma didn’t have time to digest this as he carried on. ‘She wasn’t in the least bit interested at first. I’m sure I could have told her I was married with half a dozen kids and she wouldn’t have batted an eyelid, but I persevered and she gradually came round to accepting I was already taken.’

  ‘That’s what’s called thinking on your feet. So she didn’t storm off?’

  He shook his head. ‘No, she wasn’t very happy, but definitely no storming.’ He caught her eye. ‘I’ve shown you mine. Now it’s your turn to show me yours.’

  ‘Ethan’s a sweetie. I’ve known him ever since he was a bit-part actor and I think of him like my brother. It now appears that he thinks of me in a different way, so we came for a walk down here to the pool after dinner last night and I set him straight.’ She looked up for a second or two and shot him a little smile. ‘And, no, I didn’t take a leaf out of your book and tell him I was engaged to be married to somebody else. I told him the truth. There’s a clause in all JMGP contracts making it clear that relationships with other employees are strictly verboten. I told him I want to keep him as a friend and, hopefully, we parted amicably. He’s probably a bit disappointed, but he’s a big boy. He’ll get over it.’

  ‘I’m glad.’

  He didn’t specify whether he was glad Ethan would get over it or whether he was glad she had rejected Ethan’s advances. She almost asked, but decided against it. Instead, she turned the conversation to more practical matters.

  ‘So, any plans for today?’

  He nodded. ‘Sort of, if you’re agreeable. Talking to Erasmus last night it’s clear he wants to include at least a cameo of Orvieto in the movie. He and Katya stopped off there on their way up from Rome on Friday and he fell in love with the place. If you like, I thought I could drive you down there today so you can see it for yourself and take lots of photos for your boss.’

  ‘That sounds great, but what about the others?’

  ‘I think Marina and Rich could do with a lie-in and a lazy day.’ He cleared his throat and put on a mock-serious concerned expression, belied by the twinkle of humour in his eyes. ‘They’ve been looking a bit tired lately. Erasmus, once he’s meditated, said he wants to sit down with the two big stars and go over with them in detail what his plans for the movie are. He’s asked them to take a look at the screenplay this morning and then the three of them will get together after lunch for a few hours. He made it pretty clear that he wants this to be restricted to just the three of them, so that leaves you and me in the clear until this evening. So, Orvieto?’

  Emma suppressed the urge to leap in the air and cheer. ‘Definitely.’

  * * *

  Orvieto was gorgeous, if crowded.

  The journey down there in Mark’s grandfather’s cheris
hed old sports car was more exciting than she had expected. Remembering what Emma had said, he insisted upon letting her drive and she loved it. The roof was down, the sun was warm on her shoulders, and the snarl of the exhaust was as stimulating as Mark’s presence beside her. If she were honest, her little Mini probably went faster, but it didn’t matter. Just being here in Italy on a beautiful day like this and being given the opportunity to drive such a classic car was amazing. And the man beside her was amazing too.

  It took almost an hour and a half, but she wouldn’t have minded if it had taken twice as long. They chatted amicably as they drove along and the time passed easily. The road ran through tree-covered hills at first and then down the wide valley of the River Tiber as it wended its way towards Rome and the sea.

  About halfway, they stopped at a roadside cafe and had coffee sitting outside underneath a parasol. He told her more about his childhood, about growing up here in Italy, with summer holidays spent with his British grandparents just outside Dorchester. She quizzed him about how he had been able to speak so fluently to Katya and he revealed that her native language was Czech. He told her he had spent time over there while working for the British government and had picked up the language in the process. Under cross-examination he then admitted that he was also ‘reasonably’ fluent in Russian, German and French. She was impressed, but he just shrugged.

  ‘Languages are just about the only thing I’m good at.’ She didn’t believe that for a second.

  In return, she told him about her early years in rural Norfolk and the lucky chance that had resulted in her sharing a run-down house while at Nottingham University with, among others, an American girl called Janie. They had become close friends and it had been Janie who had suggested she try applying for jobs over in America. The result had been the job at JMGP.

  ‘And you’ve been there ever since?’

  ‘That’s right. Twelve years and I’ve loved every one of them.’

  ‘So, what’s the plan? Stay for another twelve years?’

  ‘For as long as it takes.’

  ‘To do what?’

  ‘To get where I’m going.’

  ‘And that’s the top?’

  She nodded. ‘Or as near the top as I can get. Of course I’m not stupid – I know I’ll never take JM’s place. It’s a family affair and the top job’s going to Rich – we all know. But I’d like to prove to myself that I can get as high as any man could.’

  ‘That’s important to you?’

  ‘Yes, I think it is.’ She did her best to explain. ‘I grew up in a little village. The men worked in the fields and the women produced children and ran the home. All right, I know I’m exaggerating. It’s no longer the Middle Ages, but even my parents had no great expectations for me apart from hopefully finding myself a suitable husband. For suitable, read well off. I knew I wanted more.’

  ‘So you really would have had a lot in common with Emily, the suffragette. She was a woman struggling for women’s rights in a far less enlightened era.’

  ‘Absolutely. Like I told you, we’ve come a long way, but there’s still a lot further to go.’

  ‘By the sound of it, you’re well on your way. If it helps, I’d employ you to head up my media empire if I had one.’

  When they left the cafe, she said it was only fair that he should drive the rest of the way, and she relaxed alongside him, admiring the views. Towards the end of their journey, after running alongside a broad lake ringed with trees, they emerged onto a major road in another valley. He pointed through the windscreen straight ahead. ‘Look, there’s Orvieto up there.’

  Emma followed the direction of his finger. On the hill above them was a walled town perched on rocky cliffs high above the valley floor. They drove into the lower part of town through the modern suburbs on the valley floor and then he swung the car onto a narrower road that started to climb and climb. The closer they got to the old town, the more impressive the fortifications appeared. The natural defence provided by the cliff had been reinforced by massive stone walls and Emma felt sorry for any attacking army. Even just marching up here would have been difficult enough, let alone beneath a hail of fire from above. The higher the car climbed, the better the view became across the valley to the line of wooded hills on the other side, punctuated by iconic cypress trees and red-roofed farmsteads.

  The road twisted and turned up the hillside until they reached a narrow stone gateway in the city wall. Mark drove through the gate and onwards into even narrower cobbled streets. Signs warned of prohibitive fines for illegal parking and Emma was just wondering where he intended leaving the car when he indicated left and squeezed into a vacant parking space clearly marked for the sole use of residents with parking permits. Unperturbed, he reached into the glove compartment and pulled out an official-looking card which he set on the dashboard. As he did so, he glanced across at her with a little smile and explained.

  ‘This place belongs to Claudio’s parents. They live in Rome and only use it now and then so he let me use his permit.’

  Emma grinned. ‘It’s good to have friends.’

  They climbed out of the car into the oppressive heat and he guided her barely a matter of a hundred metres or so until the narrow lane emerged into a wide square. She caught her breath. Erasmus hadn’t been joking: Orvieto was magnificent.

  There, in front of them was the Duomo. The cathedral was built of alternating horizontal rows of white and black marble, and its numerous narrow, pointed spires reached up like fingers into the unbroken blue of the sky. The light cream-coloured façade with its three arched entrances was almost entirely either sculpted or covered in predominantly blue and gold mosaics of biblical scenes. It was breathtaking. Emma caught hold of Mark’s arm and looked up at him.

  ‘Absolutely stunning. Shame about the crowds.’ And it certainly was very, very crowded.

  ‘It’s not as bad as it looks. It’s a really small town and there are limited hotel places. Most of the tourists wandering round here this Sunday are probably staying in Rome and have just come up for a day trip. I reckon it should be possible to film here without all the people if you make it an early morning shoot, preferably on a weekday, and before the trains and coaches arrive.’

  Emma shot off a lot of photos, some for JM, but some for her own sake as a memory of this beautiful place. They walked around the narrow streets of the pedestrians-only central area, coming upon one architectural gem after another until he glanced at his watch.

  ‘I thought I’d better book us into a restaurant for lunch.’ He pointed across to a restaurant with tables out on the street, sheltered from the sun by an awning. ‘Okay with you?’

  ‘Very definitely okay with me.’

  They both resolved to have a light lunch: they chose bruschetta, topped with chopped fresh tomato and extra virgin olive oil, followed by freshly-grilled sardines accompanied by a mixed salad. Mark insisted she try the local white wine and she found it excellent but not, she assured him, as good as the wine back at the villa.

  As they ate she found herself studying him more closely from behind her sunglasses, and there was no doubt about it: even just looking at him really did give her goose pimples. As she had told Ethan last night, she had never, ever, felt this way before. They chatted and laughed together and she got the impression he was enjoying their day out together as much as she was. Whether there was more to it for him was still impossible to read. One thing was for sure, the more she thought about it, the more she realised Ethan had been right: as far as she was concerned, this had to be love, or at least, infatuation. Either way, it was a brand new experience for her.

  And if it really was love, so what? As she had just told him in the car, her career was what mattered most to her. Or at least, it had been that way up until now. She counted off the days. Tomorrow they would drive across the Apennines to Bologna, and Tuesday would see them in the historic city of Padua. Then, finally, Wednesday would take them to Venice, and Thursday their little group would spl
it up and they would head off in their different directions. Yes, she hoped she might be able to see him again. Yes, maybe she could take her next vacation in Italy. Maybe he could come over to California to see her as well but, with the best will in the world, there would still be six thousand miles between them for the rest of the year. She sipped her wine and told herself to try to forget him. It was the only way.

  Wasn’t it?

  Chapter 18

  On the way back to the villa Emma got an email from Dexter. It didn’t surprise her that he was working on a Sunday. Somehow she felt pretty sure he never stopped. The contents of the email were interesting.

  I’ve just remembered, today is Richard’s twenty-eighth birthday. Thought you might like to know. Hope he’s doing all right and you’ve found some great locations. How’s it going with the big stars and the director? Dexter.

  She passed the message on to Mark and he reacted immediately.

  ‘I’ll tell Claudio. At the very least there should be a cake. Shall we make it a surprise? Maybe Marina could jump out of the cake in her underwear.’

  Emma grinned. ‘Somehow I think he’s probably already familiar with her underwear.’

  He grinned back. ‘Lucky old Rich.’

  ‘Lucky both of them.’ And she meant it.

  Back at the villa, she found herself the very willing recipient of a cup of tea and a piece of cake on the terrace while Mark went off to fetch his dog. She settled down under the awning and stretched her legs. As she did so, Ethan appeared and, seeing her, came across to her table.

  ‘Hi, English, mind if I join you?’

  ‘Do you need to ask? How did the big meeting with Erasmus go?’

  ‘It went great. He’s bat-crap crazy but he knows what he’s at when it comes to the cinema.’ A waitress appeared and he asked for a coffee and ‘a big piece of that wonderful sponge cake’. As she left, cheeks glowing at having been addressed directly by the one-and-only Ethan Dukes, he resumed his report. ‘I read through the screenplay this morning – all right, in a bit of a hurry – but I saw enough to know that it’s good, very good. I’m getting really excited about it. I’ve got some great lines and the sexual tension just builds and builds.’