Dreaming of Verona: An enchanting, feel-good holiday romance

by T A Williams

  ‘Peculiar?’ She cast her mind back, but couldn’t think of anything special. ‘I don’t think so. She looked pretty perfect.’

  Alex was quick to help with a prompt. ‘Did you see the engagement ring on her finger?’

  ‘Engagement? I saw a whopping great diamond on her finger. It matched the earrings.’

  ‘And did you see the wedding ring?’

  ‘Um, no. Was there one?’

  ‘Precisely!’ There was triumph in Alex’s tone. ‘There wasn’t one. She’s somebody’s fiancée, not his wife.’

  Realisation dawned on Suzie. ‘Of course, if she’s not his wife and she’s not his mistress, she must be the girl whose portrait he’s painting. He said she was engaged to some immensely rich guy, but their identities were secret. That’s why he didn’t tell us her full name.’

  ‘So that explains it. She wasn’t his wife, after all. Maybe the wife’s back in England or maybe she’s gone off with the milkman.’

  ‘There aren’t any milkmen any more. Besides, why would he keep the ring? I don’t think so. Anyway, Alex, we’ll probably never see him again, so what’s the use of trying to speculate?’

  ‘Who says we won’t meet him again? You make sure you keep that card safe, now, won’t you?’

  Suzie glanced down at his card. It just said, simply, Michael Turner, Artist, followed by an email address and two Italian telephone numbers – one a landline and one a mobile. As she tucked the card safely into her purse, she found herself wondering if they would ever see him again and had to admit that – married or not – she rather hoped she would.

  Chapter 7

  They travelled by high-speed train from Venice to Verona at the end of the week. The journey took barely an hour and when they arrived, they found James on the platform waiting for them.

  As soon as Suzie saw him, she remembered him from the leaving party in London. He was a good-looking man with broad shoulders, lush dark hair and a stubbly beard that made him look unexpectedly hunky. Suzie definitely approved. At least Alex’s father wasn’t trying to marry her off to Jabba the Hutt. He was wearing an impeccable light-blue polo shirt and tailored shorts and there was a beaming, welcoming smile on his face. Alongside him was a man with a trolley and Suzie felt an immediate sense of relief. Although she only had one medium-sized bag, Alex’s two massive suitcases were jam-packed with clothes and weighed a ton. Leaving the porter to deal with manhandling the luggage out of the train, James advanced upon Alex, arms outstretched.

  ‘Alex, how good to see you. You’re looking great.’

  Alex’s smile as she hugged him and kissed him on the cheeks didn’t look forced, but of course he and she went back a long way as friends. ‘James, how wonderful to see you, too. And thank you so much for the invitation to your place by the lake. We’re so looking forward to seeing it, aren’t we, Suzie?’ She broke out of his embrace and pointed. ‘James, you remember Suzie from the party last Saturday, don’t you?’

  James smiled politely and extended his hand in Suzie’s direction. ‘Of course. Good to see you again, Suzie.’

  Although Suzie seriously doubted whether he really had noticed and remembered her, she shook his hand and thanked him in turn for his offer of hospitality, desperately hoping she wouldn’t find a whole bunch of his overprivileged pals already ensconced at the villa. By this time James’s man had piled the cases onto his trolley and was awaiting orders. Taking a grip on Alex’s arm, James set off down the platform towards the exit. Suzie let the two of them walk ahead of her and hung back alongside the man with the trolley. As they made their way out through the crowds, she took the opportunity to exchange a few words of Italian with him and he looked pleased to be addressed in his own language.

  ‘Are you from Verona?’

  The porter smiled and nodded. ‘Born and bred.’

  For the first time Suzie registered that he wasn’t wearing a uniform. Maybe station porters didn’t wear uniforms here in Verona, but it was unlikely. She took a guess.

  ‘Do you work for James?’

  She was right. He nodded. ‘My wife and I are responsible for the Villa Magnolia, Lord Witchampton’s house on Lake Garda.’ He shot a little smile at her. ‘I’m Roberto. I would shake your hand, but I might drop all your luggage if I do.’

  Suzie grinned back at him. ‘Hello, Roberto, I’m very pleased to meet you. My name’s Suzie and I’m travelling with Alexandra. So do you live at the villa?’

  ‘Yes, but my parents and my three brothers live in Verona so I spend quite a bit of time here.’

  ‘What’s Verona like as a place to live?’

  Before he replied, he skilfully weaved the trolley around a nun fiddling with her iPhone. ‘It’s my home town, so I think it’s the best place in the world.’

  That sounded good. ‘And what do we absolutely have to see while we’re here? Juliet’s House, maybe?’

  He gave a dismissive shrug. ‘If you like, but don’t go there expecting too much. It’s just a tourist trap these days.’ He followed James out into the oppressive heat of the midday sun, narrowly missing a couple of backpackers who suddenly chose the middle of the concourse to stop and settle down on their packs. ‘No, the most important thing you have to see is the Arena. That certainly wasn’t dreamt up recently. The Romans built it, and it’s still in use today. Mind you, Lake Garda and the Villa Magnolia are also beautiful. I’m sure you’ll love it there.’

  In the clammy heat, they made their way to the car park and Suzie was taken aback to see an enormous open-topped Rolls-Royce waiting there, occupying a space and a half, the sun gleaming on the immaculate white paintwork. Clearly Lord Witchampton had no scruples about displaying his wealth. As Roberto loaded the suitcases into the cavernous boot, Alex caught Suzie by the hand and dragged her into the back, relegating James to the front. As he took his seat with an expression of barely disguised pique, Alex shot Suzie a wink and the two girls almost dissolved into fits of the giggles.

  Roberto took the wheel and as he set off, many heads turned to follow the progress of the extravagant white limousine. Suzie, cheeks glowing with embarrassment, perched in the back of the car and wished she could disappear into the hand-stitched seams of the soft cream leather upholstery. As the car sped up and her embarrassment dwindled, she looked around at the city she knew to be a UNESCO World Heritage Site, but was disappointed to see just modern residential blocks and commercial buildings. Evidently, the old part of Verona was in a different direction.

  Less than twenty minutes later, they crested a rise and Lake Garda appeared before them. In spite of her reservations as to what, or who, might await her at the Villa Magnolia, Suzie gazed in awe at the panorama that opened up before them. Although the sunshine made the view a bit hazy, it was still mightily impressive. The blue waters, dotted with colourful sails, sparkled in the autumn sunshine. Steep mountain slopes – some carpeted with greenery, some bare rock – dropped down on both sides and far away at the head of the lake to the north, the peaks of the high Alps were visible above the haze. Only the edges of the lake showed signs of habitation and the overall impression was one of peace and tranquillity. Suzie instantly fell in love with the place.

  Little more than five minutes later they were down by the lakeside and here the sensation of tranquillity was less evident. The narrow strip of relatively flat ground by the water’s edge was lined with houses, the road suddenly became a lot busier and their progress slowed drastically. This didn’t last long as Roberto soon pulled the big vehicle off the road into an impressive entranceway set in a tall stone wall. As the car came to a halt, a yellow light on the gatepost began to blink and the gates swung open automatically. As they drove in, Suzie saw the gates behind them silently start to close once more. James and his father clearly valued their privacy. The car crunched along a gravel drive, shaded from the sun by a magnificent selection of specimen trees, until they reached a circular parking area in front of the villa.

  The villa was a delight. It wasn’t anyt
hing like as enormous as Lord Tedburn’s sprawling manor house back home in Devon, but it was a spectacularly beautiful building all the same. It probably wasn’t terribly old, maybe nineteenth century or even early twentieth century, built in the style of a Renaissance villa, and it took her breath away. Three steps led up to double entrance doors set in the light ochre walls, with massive ornate terracotta urns on either side of the doorway, overflowing with fragrant trailing rosemary plants, covered in bright blue flowers. The scent in the air was almost overpowering. While Roberto dealt with the bags, James led the girls into the house, along a tiled passage to a living room whose wall-to-ceiling windows looked out over a well-tended garden set right on the lakeside. Alas, as they got there, Suzie’s fears were confirmed.

  ‘Alex, you’re here! How super.’

  Figures appeared from all sides, many of whom Suzie recognised from the party in London, and the noise levels rose. Hugs and kisses were exchanged as Alex was greeted by the others. Suzie found herself left on her own over to one side so, seeing that Alex was fully occupied with saying hello to the other guests, she slipped out of the French windows and onto the lawn. There was a pleasant breeze coming off the water and she breathed deeply. It was a gorgeous place and, whatever the company, she knew she was very privileged to be here. She had no idea how many millions a place like this might be worth, but whoever had chosen it had demonstrated some excellent taste. It was set in a stunning location and as she strolled through the grounds she saw that there was a boathouse, the swimming pool mentioned by Rafe and even a private jetty jutting out into the lake. The water in the lake was remarkably clear and looked very appealing so she slipped off her sandals and sat down on the edge of the jetty, dangling her feet in the water. She had been there for a few minutes, staring around at the scenery, when she heard Alex’s voice.

  ‘Suzie, here you are. I’ve been looking all over for you.’

  Suzie turned towards her and smiled. ‘Sorry, I could see you were tied up saying hello to everybody so I came for a little stroll around. It’s a lovely place.’

  Alex followed Suzie’s example, stepped out of her shoes, sat down and joined her with her toes in the water. ‘I’ll introduce you to the others in a minute. Anyway, look, I came to give you the good news. Everybody’s leaving in two days’ time.’ She glanced around and lowered her voice. ‘And that includes James. They’ve already booked flights to California. There’s a big wedding going on over there – I was invited some time ago, but I told them I couldn’t make it because I was determined to be in Italy – and they can’t stop talking about it. James said he’d cancel and stay on with us here, but I’ve said no, he has to go to the wedding. So this means I get him out of my hair and we can move into Verona proper on Monday.’

  Suzie felt a wave of relief. ‘That’s great. Do you want me to book a hotel, or will you?’

  ‘Leave it to me. I’ve heard there’s an absolutely amazing hotel bang in the centre.’ She glanced at her watch. ‘Anyway, it’s gone twelve and he said lunch will be at half past. Shall we go and see where we’re sleeping?’

  They stood up and let the sun dry their feet on the old wooden planks for a few minutes before putting their shoes back on again. As she stood there, Suzie noticed the quirky old house next door, just a little further along the lakeside from them. It was quite small, built in the faux-Gothic style, and the garden was rather overgrown. She was idly wondering if it was uninhabited when a first-floor window opened and a grey-haired lady in an apron began to bang a rug energetically on the wall outside, raising clouds of dust into the air. Catching her eye, Suzie gave her a little wave and received a smile and a nod of the head in return.

  ‘Come on, Suzie. Let’s go and see where he’s put us.’

  * * *

  Suzie’s room was on the top floor, right underneath the roof, and it was boiling hot, although she was relieved to see an air-conditioning unit above the window. She rather wondered if this had once been the servants’ quarters as the furnishings, while perfectly adequate, weren’t in any way as opulent as those she had seen elsewhere in the house. Alex’s room, almost directly below her on the second floor, was a wonderful combination of marble, lace and silk. Still, Suzie told herself, her own room was still a hell of a lot more luxurious than most rooms she had ever occupied. It was all relative. Besides, the view out of the window across the lake to the mountains beyond was spectacular. She took a photo and sent it to her parents along with a message that all was going well.

  As instructed by James, she dumped her stuff, washed her hands and headed straight back downstairs. As she emerged hesitantly from the corridor into the sitting room, she heard somebody call her name. This time it was a man’s voice and she instantly recognised both it and its owner. She went across and shook his hand.

  ‘Tommy, how nice to see you again.’

  ‘Hello, Suzie. You’re looking lovely. How wonderful to see you.’

  She was impressed that he had finally managed to find an alternative adjective to ‘gorgeous’. Seeing him now that he was sober, Suzie had to admit that he really was a very good-looking man: tall and slim with short fair hair and a ready smile. She wondered if he was also immensely rich. If so, with his looks and a pot full of money, she had no doubt he would be fighting the girls off – assuming he didn’t get drunk too often. Certainly, today he was looking and sounding very different from the last time she had seen him.

  ‘Listen, Suzie, I’m sure I owe you a massive apology.’ Seeing the look on her face, he explained. ‘I’m afraid I must have behaved pretty shabbily last week. It was my birthday, you see, and my so-called mates had been feeding me all kinds of spiked drinks all night and I was totally wasted. I hope I didn’t do anything too awful. I can just about remember chatting to this gorgeous-looking girl, but then she disappeared and never came back. I wasn’t too obnoxious, was I?’

  He looked and sounded genuinely contrite and she was quick to reassure him. ‘Not at all, Tommy. And you don’t need to worry – you weren’t too bad. I’ve known far worse.’

  ‘Thank God for that. Anyway, look, I just wanted you to know that I’m not normally like that. I’m really quite a nice guy when you get to know me.’

  Suzie gave him a smile. ‘I look forward to getting to know you, Tommy.’

  ‘That’s great.’ He looked genuinely relieved. ‘So, how’s your holiday?’ He lowered his voice a fraction, although the background babble assured him of privacy. ‘Getting along with Alex? She can be a bit hard going.’

  ‘We’re getting on really well, thanks. It must be the Italian air. And what have you been doing?’

  ‘Oh, you know, just hanging out. A few of us have been windsurfing. James is mad about it and Lake Garda’s famous for it.’

  Suzie’s ears pricked up. During her summer vacation work in Italy, back when she was at university, she had learnt to windsurf and had developed a real taste for it. By the third year she was teaching it to the kids. Her former boyfriend, Rob, had been fanatical about surfing, windsurfing and kitesurfing, and they had spent most weekends on the water. She hadn’t been out as often as she would have liked since Rob’s departure from her life over a year ago and the idea of getting back on a board had considerable appeal.

  ‘Yes, I’ve heard that. Something to do with regular winds, I believe. Everybody says it’s a Mecca for windsurfing and kitesurfing. Where do you sail? Direct from here?’

  ‘Yes. There’s all sorts of kit in the boathouse. I’ll take you out and show you how to do it after lunch if you like.’

  Suzie decided not to mention that she was already pretty competent and accepted his offer enthusiastically. Apart from anything else, it would get her away from the rest of the bunch.

  Alex appeared and took her round the room, introducing her to the others – some of whom Suzie recognised and some new faces – and Suzie was relieved to find herself feeling a lot more comfortable than she had done a week earlier. Lunch was taken in the large dining room and s
he did a quick count of the people around the long table as they sat down. Including Alex and herself, there were fourteen of them, six girls and eight men. As far as she could see, a few of them were already paired off, and she was unsurprised to find that Tommy plonked himself down beside her and did his best to chat her up. Even more surprising was that she didn’t mind that much. In fact, as the meal progressed, she found that she was enjoying his company.

  The meal was served by Roberto – who, she discovered, spoke excellent English – and when Suzie complimented him on the excellent food, he told her it was his wife, Rosa, who was responsible. Suzie was seriously impressed; cooking for fourteen people twice a day couldn’t be easy. When they reached the end of the excellent main course of roast lamb with rosemary and roast potatoes, Suzie collected a pile of dirty plates and followed Roberto out to the kitchen, ignoring his objections. In the kitchen she was introduced to Rosa and told her how much she had enjoyed the meal, taking an instant liking to this smiley, friendly lady. She stayed and chatted for a few minutes, delighted to have the opportunity to speak Italian, until the oven timer rang and Rosa had to spring into action.

  That afternoon, after the big lunch, most people disappeared for a siesta or to sunbathe, and James soon monopolised Alex. Suzie decided she would sneak away for a quiet walk by herself. Roberto gave her the code so she could come and go through the electric gates and she set off. She soon found a footpath along the shore and strolled happily along, enjoying the view out across the lake to the hills on the other side. The number of small crafts, yachts, kitesurfers and windsurfers had increased considerably since the morning and they added spots of bright colour to the deep blue of the water.

  After a while she sat down on a bench where she let her mind roam and found herself thinking of Michael, the artist. She wondered where he was and whether he had ever painted the lake. He had said he lived in the area, after all. For a moment she even thought about calling him for a chat, but decided against it. Maybe if she had something to ask him, but she couldn’t just ring him and say hi. Besides, what if his wife were to answer?