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

by T A Williams

  ‘So was she good, James? Did she rock your world?’ Alex was also close to giggles, but James still looked embarrassed. However, Suzie was pleased to see he was quick to recover.

  ‘Not like you do, Alex. You know that.’ The emotion in his voice was clear for all to hear.

  This time Alex was the one to blush and Suzie smiled into her wetsuit as she hauled it off and then pulled her rash vest off over her head. It was only after she had removed the vest that their roles were reversed and she heard Alex’s voice, barely choking back the laughter.

  ‘Suzie, you do realise you’ve removed the top half of your bikini along with your vest, don’t you?’

  Suzie blushed furiously and scrabbled for her towel. She couldn’t miss the expression on the face of Tommy, now installed only a few feet away from her. He grinned and winked, and her embarrassment went into overload. Retrieving the offending garment, she clipped it back on again before dropping the towel and looking back at Alex.

  ‘Touché. Now I really need a long hot shower.’

  By the time she returned to the poolside, she was feeling pleasantly relaxed and she stretched out on her towel on one of the sunbeds. She had been there for a while and had even dozed off when she felt a gentle tap on her bare shoulder. She opened her eyes and looked up. It was Alex. She pulled herself upright and noticed that the pool area was now empty.

  ‘Come on, sleepyhead. Everybody’s going in for champagne and cake. As it was Tommy’s birthday last week, it’s his treat.’ As Suzie stirred and climbed wearily to her feet, Alex leant closer to her. ‘Did you hear what James said? Or rather, did you hear the way he said it? What’s that all about?’ Her voice dropped to a whisper. ‘Has he said anything to you?’

  Suzie nodded. ‘Yes, but all good. He told me he was crazy about you and—’

  ‘He said that?’

  ‘He certainly did, and he said he wants to talk to you, but you keep changing the subject.’ She gave Alex a little smile. ‘I told him not to give up.’

  Alex was looking unusually unsure of herself now. ‘So do you think I should sit down with him and see what he says?’

  ‘It couldn’t hurt.’

  * * *

  That evening turned out to be a lot of fun. Tommy had not just laid on a case of very good champagne and a wonderful cake in a Harrods’ box, but either he or James had somehow managed to book an amazing three-piece band. As soon as another of Rosa’s feasts had been finished, the band started playing and Suzie found herself dancing, in spite of her aching limbs. She wasn’t surprised to find Tommy asking her to dance with him. She was pleasantly surprised to see him drinking sparingly, and he was remarkably well-behaved.

  Fortunately the music was not outrageously loud, but even so she had a horrible feeling James’s father would be on the receiving end of an email from Professor Macgregor-Brown next morning. The thought of the old man brought a smile to her face. She had enjoyed her day with him and his lovely dog. She would miss them when she and Alex set off for Verona the next day. Before going windsurfing she had sent him a copy of her thesis, along with a thank-you email, and she knew she would await his verdict on her work with considerable anxiety.

  She finally got to bed at about one o’clock, but the music was still drifting up the stairs as she went off to sleep. She woke once at around three o’clock and all was quiet, so presumably the other guests must have eventually called it a night.

  The next morning she was the first down for breakfast, but that didn’t surprise her. It was barely eight o’clock and no doubt they were all still in bed. As she nibbled one of Rosa’s homemade biscuits, she found herself wondering how things had gone between Alex and James and whether they had had their talk. She looked forward to hearing from her later on. As it was, she was feeling excited, knowing that today she would be going to Verona at long last. Of all the Italian places mentioned in Shakespeare’s plays, Verona was the one that had always held a special fascination for her.

  Her period of peaceful reflection didn’t last long as the others started to appear and the noise levels in the dining room increased. Apparently they were all heading off to the airport soon to catch their flight back to London and from there onward to Los Angeles. Suzie hoped they were all sober enough and rested enough to drive their hire cars safely. Two of the last to appear were James and Alex, who arrived suspiciously together. Suzie was unable to read anything much into their expressions or body language, but the fact that they sat down and had breakfast together had to be a positive sign. It was clear that their conversation – if, indeed, they had been able to have one – hadn’t blown up in their faces. She felt pleased for both of them.

  The house emptied rapidly as the morning progressed until only James, Alex and Suzie were left. Before leaving, Tommy came over to say goodbye and to give Suzie his contact details. She gave him a smile and kissed him on the cheeks in return and wondered if she would ever see him again, reflecting that she rather hoped she would. She found she liked him quite a bit – and there was no doubt he was a very attractive man – but as she had told Alex repeatedly, she wasn’t interested in finding herself a man. The inescapable fact, however, was that the recurring image of Michael, the artist, stubbornly remained in her head. Somehow, he had made a remarkable impression on her and, although she knew she was unlikely to see him again either, she couldn’t stop thinking about him. And his poor, dead wife.

  Roberto had been designated to take James to the airport in the Rolls-Royce, dropping Alex and Suzie in the centre of Verona as he did so. The drive was smooth and fast and Suzie made a point of sitting alongside Roberto in the front this time, leaving the back seat to the other two. As she chatted to Roberto, she felt a rising sense of excitement that the big day had finally arrived – she was going to the city of her dreams. When they reached Verona and emerged from the modern part of town into the old centre, it was a squeeze to get the big vehicle through the traffic in the crowded streets leading to their hotel and, as James was running late, their farewells were brief. Nevertheless, Suzie thought she saw definite affection in the kiss Alex shared with him. As the luxury car whispered away, he gave them both a cheerful wave, but there was a wistful look in his eyes. Turning back to Alex, Suzie was interested to see a more uncertain look on the face of her companion. She was about to start manhandling the heavy cases towards the door when a uniformed doorman materialised at her side and took over. She was very happy to leave him to it.

  The hotel was in a fabulous position, right on the edge of the centro storico reserved for pedestrians, within a couple of hundred yards of the massive bulk of the Arena. Suzie just stood and gaped at it for a full minute until Alex grabbed her by the arm and led her towards the hotel entrance. She had seen pictures and even videos of Verona, but somehow they hadn’t prepared her for the sheer scale of the Arena. She knew that this huge amphitheatre had been built by the Romans way back in the first century, and as Roberto had told her, she knew that it was still in use to this day for concerts and opera. It looked for all the world like a slightly less ambitious – but still enormous – version of the Colosseum in Rome and was set in a long, wide piazza complete with a park, fountains, trees and a never-ending selection of restaurants. The whole area was full of tourists, even at this time on a late September morning. There was a vibrant buzz to the whole place and Suzie felt sure she was going to enjoy exploring the city the Italians referred to as the city of love.

  The hotel was a grand affair, probably built back in the days when all this part of Italy had belonged to the Austro-Hungarian empire, and redolent of old-world luxury and refinement. The entrance lobby was paved with black and white marble and the staff were all immaculately turned out in white tops and smart dark suits and waistcoats. The air-conditioning was working well and it was cool in there among the leather sofas and exotic pot plants. They were escorted up to their rooms in a modern lift by a smiley lady who spoke to them in excellent English. Suzie’s room was every bit as large and luxurious a
s her room in Venice had been, with the added bonus of a private rooftop terrace that she shared with Alex’s room. Once they had settled in, they met up on the terrace, looking out over the Arena in one direction and the red terracotta roofs of the old town on the other side of them, the skyline punctuated by spires, towers and cupolas. In the distance was a green hill with what looked like a fortress on top. It was breathtaking and Suzie couldn’t wait to start exploring the place. But first, there was something she wanted to know.

  Once they were seated, she asked the burning question.

  ‘So, how did it go with James last night? Did the two of you get the chance to sit down and talk?’

  Alex leant back on the wicker sofa with a sigh and stretched her legs. ‘Yes, and no.’

  Suzie didn’t press her for an explanation. She didn’t need to. A few seconds later, Alex elaborated.

  ‘We did a bit of dancing like everybody else and then, around midnight, or maybe later, we went outside and walked down to the jetty. There’s an old bench there and we sat on it to talk. It was really rather romantic, with the moonlight on the lake. He told me – just like he told you – that he’s crazy about me and I told him I liked him a lot. But it all comes down to my father in the end.’

  She paused for a few moments but, again, Suzie didn’t interrupt her train of thought. Alex’s eyes were on the jumble of ancient rooftops spreading out beyond the edge of the balcony towards the distant outline of the mountains as she carried on.

  ‘My father, I’m sure, has no idea at all that he’s behaving in a way that’s outdated or unfair. He just naturally assumes he has the right to dictate what happens to me, and it really annoys me. It’s so patronising.’

  Alex gave another sigh – this time of exasperation – and Suzie very nearly got up and went over to give her a big hug. Instead, she offered a bit of verbal support.

  ‘But does it matter, Alex? As long as you and James are happy together, who cares if that also happens to be your dad’s bidding? From what I could see, you and James were getting along fine and the more I’ve got to know him, the more I’ve come round to thinking he could be the one for you.’

  Alex lowered her eyes from the rooftops and nodded slowly, her expression now one of blank frustration. As she turned her gaze towards Suzie, there were tears in the corners of her eyes.

  ‘That’s pretty much what I was coming round to thinking, but it’s not as simple as that. You see, Suzie, I ended up in James’s bedroom last night.’

  ‘So? You said yourself your dad would probably approve.’ She couldn’t work out why Alex’s expression was so deflated. ‘Was there a problem?’

  In response, Alex just nodded and reached for a tissue to wipe away the tears. Suzie didn’t know what to do. Although there was no doubt she and Alex were really getting on very well now and she genuinely considered Alex as a friend – and a good one at that – she still didn’t feel she knew her well enough to reach out and give her the big hug she so patently needed. Even so, she was about to go across to her when Alex started talking again.

  ‘Yes, there was a problem, a hell of a problem. You see, it just didn’t work.’

  Suzie was puzzled. ‘What didn’t work?’ An idea occurred to her. ‘Do you mean he couldn’t…?’

  Alex shook her head violently. ‘We didn’t get that far. We didn’t even kiss properly. The problem wasn’t with him, it was with me. It felt weird, I just couldn’t do it. You see, James and I have known each other since we were tiny. We’ve played together, been on holiday together, built sandcastles together, gone riding together and I’ve probably spent more one-to-one time with him than with Rafe or my father. We’re almost like brother and sister, and much as I like him – and I do – I just don’t see him in anything but that light. Feeling his hands on me actually made me physically sick.’ Angrily, she rubbed the tears from her eyes. ‘I mean it. I threw up.’

  ‘What, all over him?’

  ‘Not quite, thank God. No, I made it to the bathroom, but the very thought of going back to him sent waves of nausea through me over and over again. In the end, I told him I was feeling awful and had to go back to my own room, and left.’

  ‘Wow! And do you think he realised why you were being sick?’

  ‘I don’t think so. This morning he was considerate and caring, asking if it was something I’d eaten. If he’d realised what it was all about, I’m sure he’d have acted differently. No, I reckon he’s gone off to the States confident that he and I are now an item.’ She cast a pleading look in Suzie’s direction. ‘So what the bloody hell do I do now?’

  This time Suzie did get up and go across to sit down alongside Alex on the wicker sofa. She reached out and caught hold of her hand and squeezed it reassuringly, doing her best to sound positive.

  ‘The first thing you’ve got to do is to stop crying. You were sick, so what? People get sick and, for all you know, it might have been those prawns last night.’ Ignoring Alex’s attempt to disagree, she ploughed on. ‘James is away now for, what? A week?’

  ‘Ten days.’ Alex sniffed and wiped her eyes with her free hand.

  ‘Even better. That gives you ten days to get over the shock of it all and to work out the kindest way of explaining to him what happened. When all’s said and done, the problem is that you like him too much. He can hardly feel rejected because of that. So, come on, try to cheer up and let’s see if the city of Romeo and Juliet manages to work its magic on you.’

  Chapter 10

  They spent the day walking round the lovely historic town, starting with Via Mazzini, a pedestrian-only road lined with shops – many of them big names – boasting some amazing clothes and accessories on sale. Where there were prices, Suzie soon worked out that buying clothes here in the centre wasn’t going to be cheap – maybe not quite as expensive as Venice, but not far off. This didn’t appear to worry the numerous people all around them carrying shopping bags bearing the names of famous fashion houses. The road itself was paved with slabs of marble, worn smooth and shiny by the passage of countless pairs of feet. Fascinating-looking narrow lanes led off to the left and to the right, and churches, chapels and historic buildings appeared in endless succession as they strolled along. The atmosphere was happy, busy and redolent with history. Suzie found herself wondering if Shakespeare really had ever walked here and rather hoped he had.

  As they wandered through the narrow streets and magnificent piazzas, Suzie felt an overwhelming sense of relief. Somehow, after so many years of dreaming about this moment, there had been a nagging doubt lurking at the back of her mind that the reality might not match up to her expectations. Instead, she felt as if she had belonged to this place all her life. The medieval heart of the city was surprisingly small and the atmosphere was homely and intimate, in spite of the hordes of tourists wandering aimlessly around. Much of the centro storico was pedestrian-only and it was wonderful to be able to walk about without fear of traffic. The only traffic to watch out for, she soon discovered, were the bikes. Clearly the mode of transport of choice of the Veronese – irrespective of age or sex – was the bicycle, and both girls soon got used to the ringing of bells and the rattle of battered bikes on the cobbles and paving slabs wherever they went.

  Neither of them felt like lunch, but they stopped for an ice cream around mid-afternoon and sat at a table under a parasol in the long, thin Piazza delle Erbe, looking straight out along the beautiful square towards the imposing buildings at the far end with statues lining the parapets. There was a market in the centre of the piazza and from what Suzie could see, the stalls specialised in T-shirts, sunhats and sunglasses, aimed directly at the throng of tourists passing by. They had chosen their ice creams from an open-topped fridge with a magnificent selection of flavours, piled up in colourful swirls and embarrassing them with choice. After a lot of deliberation Suzie had opted for a mixture of meringue, strawberry and banana, while Alex chose vanilla, pistachio and dark chocolate. The ice creams, topped with whipped cream and thick waf
er biscuits, arrived in tall glasses with long-handled spoons and looked sumptuous. They bought bottles of sparkling mineral water to wash them down. It all tasted as good as it looked and Suzie found herself smiling into her glass.

  Suzie had been doing a lot of thinking about what Alex had told her. She herself was an only child and had never had a brother or any really close male friends when she was growing up so she had no standard of comparison, but it was clear that Alex had a problem. No doubt James would be in touch with her as soon as he reached California and Alex needed to have at least an idea of what she was going to say to him.

  Alex’s thoughts, too, must have been running along similar lines. After a minute or two, she brought up the pressing subject without Suzie needing to prompt her.

  ‘So what the bloody hell do I do about James?’

  Suzie didn’t reply straight away. To give herself time to think, she took a spoonful of the delicious ice cream and let it melt in her mouth, deliberating the right course of action, her eyes coming to rest on the beautiful frescoes painted high up on the walls of the old building opposite them. They were doubtless very old and utterly charming, but they did little to help solve Alex’s dilemma. Finally she gave her opinion. Fundamentally, the way she saw it, there was no alternative.

  ‘You’ve got to tell him. And I mean tell him everything, just like you’ve told me. You owe him that.’

  ‘What, over the phone? Isn’t that terribly cruel? It’s not like he’s done anything wrong. In fact, he’s done everything right. I’m the one who’s screwed things up.’

  ‘Nobody’s screwed anything up. In fact, not to put too fine a point on it, but it’s probably just as well you didn’t do any of that last night. If you had had sex with him and then had to tell him you didn’t want it to go any further, think how much worse he might feel. You know, wounded macho pride and all that. No, as it worked out, nothing happened, and I’m sure that’s for the best.’