Dreaming of Italy: A stunning and heartwarming holiday romance

by T A Williams

  ‘Turn around and run away or you’ll regret it.’

  Emma couldn’t quite understand everything he growled at them, but his message was crystal clear. The man holding her purse grinned and turned to Mark. ‘But, first, I want your wallet.’

  Emma felt Mark push her gently backwards until he was between her and the two men. She saw him reach into the back pocket of his shorts and pull out his wallet. As his hand emerged holding it, he addressed them.

  ‘Here, take it. I don’t want any trouble.’

  Then, as the first man reached for it, Mark tossed it into the air and, as the man lunged for it, things happened very quickly; so quickly that afterwards, even when she was able to think rationally once more, Emma couldn’t recall the exact order of what happened next. Mark somehow sprang sideways and shot his foot upwards at an impossible angle at amazing speed, catching the man with the knife under the jaw and sending him backwards into the wall with a sickening thud. Before this man had even slumped to the ground, Mark’s fist caught the other man on the side of the head and, simultaneously, he chopped him to the floor with another kick. Emma saw Mark drop to one knee, there was the sound of another blow, and then silence.

  ‘Emma.’ His voice was unexpectedly calm. ‘There were two policemen back by the chemist’s shop just before we turned off. Can you go back and tell them to come here, please?’ As she stood there, rooted to the spot by the speed and violence of what she had just witnessed, he spoke again and she finally reacted. ‘It’s all right, Emma. I’ve got things under control. Just fetch the police, would you?’

  ‘Are… are you all right?’ Her voice was little more than a whisper.

  ‘I’m fine, Emma, now go. Police. Okay?’

  She turned and ran back down the alley as fast as she could and out into the main street again. To her considerable relief the two policemen were still standing a bit further along, under the arches of the portico. As they heard her running footsteps, they turned towards her and she hastened to pass on Mark’s message. Her Italian was flaky, but they quickly understood and she led them back into the alley at a run.

  * * *

  Mark and Emma were taken to the police station in a police car while their two assailants were removed in an ambulance under guard. On the way, she was dimly aware of Mark talking quietly to the police officers and when they got to the police station she was given a little plastic cup of strong coffee and asked to wait while Mark disappeared into a side office to give a full account of what had happened.

  As she sat on a long wooden bench in the echoing corridor, she did her best to pull herself together. She had no previous experience of anything like this and she could feel her hands trembling. In spite of the warm evening, she suddenly began to feel cold but she did her best to tell herself she was just in shock, and gritted her teeth to stop them from chattering. Mercifully, Mark came back before too long. He must have realised the state she was in as he sat down close beside her and stretched his arm around her shoulders, hugging her tightly against his chest. She felt him lean down towards her and kiss the top of her head. In spite of the circumstances, it felt good and she snuggled even closer against him.

  ‘I’ve told them what happened. The two men are already known to them and I get the impression they’ll throw the book at them. They don’t like knife crime here.’ She felt his arm give her a reassuring squeeze. ‘Anyway, it’s all over now and we’re fine. We just have to wait until they’ve typed up the statement and then we can go.’ He squeezed her again. ‘How’re you holding up?’

  Considering he had just been involved in a struggle against two men, one of them armed with a knife, he sounded remarkably composed and the thought finally dawned upon Emma’s befuddled brain that this obviously wasn’t a new experience to him. She looked up at him, suddenly seeing him in a new light as realisation began to dawn.

  ‘Those are bullet holes in your chest, aren’t they?’ She felt him tense. She had to wait a few seconds before he replied, reluctantly.

  ‘Yes.’ He hesitated. ‘I didn’t know you’d seen them. I don’t like to show them off.’ He glanced down at her. ‘They belong to my previous life.’ His voice sounded tired now.

  ‘It’s all your dog’s fault.’ Emma did her best to sound brighter, although her heart was still beating at a furious pace. ‘When she knocked you in the pool, remember?’

  Mention of Carmen must have helped as she saw the hint of a smile on his lips. Sight of his lips reminded Emma there was something she had to do. Wriggling out of his grip sufficiently so she could reach up toward his face with her hands, she caught hold of him, pulled him down, and kissed him hard on the lips. Her hands still holding his cheeks, she drew back a few inches until she was looking straight into his eyes at close range.

  ‘Thank you, Mark. Thank you for saving my life.’

  She saw him smile. ‘I probably just saved your purse to be honest. Did you see the way the knife was trembling in that guy’s hand? He probably would have dropped it before he managed to stab anybody.’

  Emma was very conscious that she herself had only just stopped trembling. ‘I didn’t see a thing. I was so terrified I couldn’t move.’ She removed one hand from his cheek long enough to wipe away a tear that had appeared in a corner of her eye. ‘Really, Mark, thank you so very, very much.’ And she kissed him again. This time she felt him respond and the trembling started again, but now for a very different reason. It was a long kiss and as far as she was concerned, it could have lasted forever, but after a while he pulled away and crushed her against his chest. His mouth was close by her ear and she heard him whisper.

  ‘I didn’t… I don’t want anything to happen to you. You’ve become so very precious to me.’

  She stretched her arms around him and pressed herself so tightly against him she almost stopped breathing, but it didn’t matter. An overwhelming sensation of warmth, security and love flooded throughout her whole body and the tears started for real. As she sat there sobbing, she felt his fingers running softly across her back and his lips at her ear. Gradually, the tears dried up to be replaced by a blissful feeling of well-being and joy.

  ‘Scusate, signori.’ She became dimly aware of a man’s voice and looked up to see a police officer holding a clipboard towards Mark. ‘Se volesse firmare, per piacere.’

  As Mark released his grip on her so as to take the statement and sign it, the sensation of abandonment was so strong in Emma that she felt the tears start all over again.

  The police gave them a lift back to the hotel and Emma distinctly saw the driver salute Mark before driving off again. Mark came around to take hold of her by the shoulders once more and looked down at her.

  ‘Coffee? Cognac? Grappa? Bed?’

  Emma had absolutely no doubt.

  ‘Bed.’

  Chapter 21

  Emma woke to find herself clinging to his warm body as if her life depended upon it. As her eyes opened, there was enough early morning sunlight coming in through the blinds for her to see Mark’s face quite clearly and to see that his eyes were open and trained on hers, a gentle smile on his face.

  ‘Buongiorno, signora.’

  ‘Buongiorno, signore. Sleep well?’ She stretched up and deposited the lightest of kisses on his lips.

  His smile broadened. ‘Yes, indeed. What about you? No bad dreams?’

  ‘With you beside me? No, I was fine.’ She snuggled even more tightly up against his chest and launched into the speech she had been preparing since talking to Erasmus, or maybe even before. ‘I’ve got a confession to make, Mark. Forgetting for one moment the fact that you saved my life last night, I’ve been trying to get you alone so I could tell you how I feel.’ She took a deep breath. ‘I’ve never felt like this before.’ Another deep breath. ‘You see, although it’s crazy, seeing as we’ve only known each other for a week or so…’

  ‘Eight and a half days, but who’s counting?’ His voice was low, his tone gentle.

  ‘…for eight and a half da
ys – the thing is, I think I’m falling in love with you.’ She looked up into those amazing blue-grey eyes once again. ‘I know it sounds stupid and I promise I don’t make a habit of going around telling men I love them. You have to believe me, but it’s just…’

  ‘It’s not stupid. If it helps, I’ve been trying to find the right moment to tell you the exact same thing. For days now I’ve been telling myself I’m crazy, but there’s no getting away from it. I can’t stop thinking about you, Emma. You’re amazing.’

  He leant forward to kiss her and it was a long time before they started speaking again. Finally, she ran her fingers gently across the little round scars on his chest, one by one, and looked up at him.

  ‘Feel like telling me?’

  He nodded. ‘I can’t tell you much. I’m afraid I had to sign the Official Secrets Act, and, although I gave up the day job a year ago, it still applies.’

  ‘You said you worked for the British government. Were you in the army, like Robert in Dreaming of Italy?’

  ‘Not exactly. I worked for SIS, the Secret Intelligence Service. Now I’m no longer part of it, I can tell you that, but please don’t broadcast the fact.’

  Emma’s eyes opened wide. ‘So does this mean you were a spy?’

  ‘I suppose you could say that. I was recruited way back when I was still at Oxford. Like I told you, I can speak a few languages and they liked the sound of that. Most of the work – at least at first – was fairly routine and pretty boring, and it isn’t as glamorous as the movies would make you think.’

  ‘And these wounds?’ She let her fingers run across them again. ‘Who did that to you?’

  ‘I can’t tell you.’ He shook his head. ‘It doesn’t matter anyway. The trouble was that not only did they almost kill me, they ended my career. My people managed to keep it out of the mainstream media, but the damage had been done in intelligence circles. My name was named and my cover, as we say in the trade, was blown. If everybody knows you’re a spy, you aren’t much use as a spy.’

  ‘So they sacked you?’

  ‘No, to my surprise they offered me a promotion and a desk job. But then my grandfather died and I knew it was time for me to make the change.’

  ‘And as far as your wounds were concerned, did it take you a long time to recover?’

  She saw him nod slowly. ‘Physically about six months. Apparently I was very lucky. Mentally, I’m not sure I have ever recovered fully.’ He stopped and corrected himself. ‘Until now, that is.’ He leant down and kissed her softly, first on one eyelid, then the other. ‘You say you think I saved your life last night. Well, I think it’s the other way round. In a way, you’ve saved mine. It’s been years and years since I’ve felt as happy as I do now.’

  It was almost nine o’clock before Emma made it down to breakfast. Rich and Marina were waiting for her, and appeared relieved to see her. A broad smile spread across Rich’s face.

  ‘Morning, boss. We were getting worried. Good night?’

  Emma smiled back. ‘I had a very good night, apart from somebody trying to rob us at knifepoint.’ They both looked horrified and she hastened to explain. As she got to the end of her tale, the other two exchanged looks of astonishment.

  ‘So you’re saying Mark fought off two armed men?’

  ‘Let’s not exaggerate here. Technically only one was armed.’ Emma looked up at the sound of Mark’s voice as he approached the table. He looked even more drop-dead gorgeous than before and a wave of emotion swept over her. It must have shown on her face as Marina instantly picked up on it.

  ‘So you got your knight in shining armour, Emma. Lucky you.’

  ‘Lucky me, indeed.’

  After breakfast they set off on a walking tour of Bologna. Even though it was the middle of June, there were still crowds of students everywhere. Mark told them that it was very much a university town.

  ‘The University of Bologna’s one of the oldest in the world, founded in 1088. Popes, princes and household names like Dante, Boccaccio and Petrarch all studied here. Give or take a Duomo or a Ponte Vecchio, Bologna rivals Florence in terms of antiquity and culture and there’s no question it would have been on the route of the Grand Tour.’ He glanced across at Emma and smiled. ‘So definitely a good choice for the movie.’

  ‘Perfect.’ Emma smiled back at him, reflecting that she had been doing a lot of that this morning.

  She added these facts to her list and took photos as they walked through the city. They admired and photographed the twin towers, both leaning, although far less spectacularly than the one in Pisa, and walked around the main square, the Piazza Maggiore, stopping to visit the magnificent Basilica of San Petronio. Almost everywhere they went, they were shaded from the sun by miles of covered porticos lined with cafes, restaurants and shops. By mid-morning, Emma finally decided she had gathered enough for her report and they sat down for a coffee under the portico outside their hotel once more.

  As they waited to be served, Mark brought up the subject of the movie.

  ‘Venice is the day after tomorrow, isn’t it, and that’s where the movie ends? What about now? Can I ask at what stage the characters in the movie are by the time they get here to Bologna?’

  Emma glanced across at Rich and let him answer. As she listened to him, she realised it might have been less embarrassing if she had told them herself, but it was too late.

  ‘Bologna’s the place where Emily and Robert finally get together. This is the town where love very definitely breaks out for them.’

  ‘And why was he so troubled, so hard to fathom?’ Marina sounded fascinated.

  ‘The girl he was supposed to marry died of pneumonia a couple of years previously and he was still grieving.’

  ‘I see. So, she actually sleeps with him here in Bologna? I didn’t think they did that sort of thing back then.’

  Rich grinned back at her. ‘They did it all right – or at least they do in my old man’s screenplay. In a lovely old hotel, bang in the centre of town. I imagine it being not dissimilar to this one.’ Emma was beginning to wonder if it was suddenly getting hotter, as her cheeks were definitely glowing. Rich caught her eye and his grin broadened. ‘Are you going to suggest they use our hotel for the movie, Emma? Do you think it’s romantic enough for our two lovers? Can you imagine two people who’ve been in close proximity for days, gradually falling in love, finally ending up in the same bed right here?’ Beside him, Marina looked as if she was going to choke.

  Emma was still searching for a suitable answer – or for the pavement under her feet to open up and let her drop out of this embarrassment – when Mark stepped in.

  ‘I reckon it would be perfect for any lovers.’ He reached over and caught hold of Emma’s hand and kissed her fingers. ‘Absolutely perfect.’

  Emma knew by now that the cat was out of the bag, so she did what she had been dying to do since starting their walk about town. She leant across and kissed him.

  ‘You said it. Absolutely perfect.’ She turned back towards Rich and grinned at him. ‘In fact, the first thing I did after breakfast was to talk to the manager. He was very amenable and says they’ll be only too happy to cooperate.’

  * * *

  The drive up the motorway to Ferrara took only just over half an hour and the city turned out to be delightful. It was much smaller than Bologna but there was a similar feel to the place. This, too, was a famous university town and there was a noticeably young population. The centre of town was dominated by a massive castle surrounded by a moat, and Mark told them that this, like so much of the town, had been built in the late Middle Ages. The architecture and the atmosphere of the city was a mixture: parts were medieval, with tortuous, narrow lanes, while other parts were filled with grander-looking Renaissance and more recent buildings. The cathedral, built of white marble, recalled the cathedral in Pisa. Emma and Mark walked around the centro storico arm in arm and she was happier than she had been in years. The others, too, joked and laughed and there was a festive air
to the four of them. Emma took a lot of photos and by the time they left the city around mid-afternoon, she was feeling well pleased.

  As they travelled up the motorway to Padua, she got a text message from Dexter.

  Very Urgent. JM has heard that Rich has found himself an Italian girlfriend. Please can you confirm and give your confidential assessment of the girl. Hope all is well with you. Dexter.

  Emma cradled her phone in her hand and did some serious thinking. JM’s bush telegraph was legendary in the company, but, even so, she wondered how he had found out. Maybe Ethan or Erasmus or even Rich himself had told his father. She decided to wait until they got to Padua to speak to him about it before replying. Needless to say, she knew she would give Marina a glowing reference, but she needed to be sure she got Rich’s go-ahead first.

  They got to the hotel at just after five. It was some ten kilometres outside Padua, set among the only hills for miles. These hills, the Colli Euganei, rose from the flatlands around Venice like massive pyramids from the desert and the views were spectacular in all directions. The hotel was situated on the northern flank of the hills, overlooking Padua itself, with the backdrop of high, snow-covered mountains in the distance beyond that. Over to the right, if they screwed up their eyes, there was a pink smudge that had to be Venice. The hotel was a magnificent Palladian villa and Mark told them all about it as the car climbed up the winding road to get there.

  ‘All around here you’ll find Palladian villas. They’re built in the style made popular by an architect called Andrea Palladio way back in the sixteenth century, although many of the buildings you see are much more recent than that. He was very much influenced by the architecture of ancient Rome and you’ll find lots of magnificent villas around this area built in the classical style.’