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

by T A Williams

  The school was barely ten minutes from the hotel and she enjoyed the walk – not least as it gave her blushes a chance to retreat. Michael exchanged a few words with her, in particular the news to be relayed to Alex that if she decided to do the art course at the Academy, they would almost certainly be able to offer her a place. For the most part they walked in silence, but it wasn’t an awkward silence by any means. In fact Suzie was surprised by how comfortable she felt just being with him. What he thought of her, she was unable to guess.

  The school, housed in a charming Renaissance building, turned out to be for children with learning disabilities and she was impressed to see that the students were doing everything from collecting the tickets to ushering the audience to their seats. As Michael had said, these were in a huge gymnasium, complete with wall bars and basketball hoops. A stage had been prepared at one end and she was mildly surprised to see a wide selection of instruments ranging from a grand piano to a full drum set waiting to be played. A little girl with a delightful smile pressed a plastic beaker of what looked like orange squash into her hand and Suzie was acutely conscious that she no doubt looked more than a little silly sipping this while decked out like a Hollywood diva. She was also immediately terrified she might spill the drink on her new dress and held it very, very carefully at arm’s length.

  As they made their way through the rows of chairs to their seats, Michael paused every now and then to say hello to some faces he recognised among the other members of the audience. Suzie caught a few curious glances from some of the ladies – and looks of a different type from some of the men – and she had little doubt that they were wondering who she might be. No doubt in other years Michael had been accompanied by his wife and a lot of their expressions registered sympathy. She kept a smile plastered on her face and tried not to think of anything but the forthcoming concert.

  They sat down in the seats they’d been allotted and chatted sporadically as they waited for the concert to begin. She sensed that Michael was tense and wondered if he, too, was thinking of his wife. He told her that this charity was something he had been involved with for a number of years. He didn’t go into detail and Suzie felt pretty sure this would have been something dear to his wife as well – after all, she had been a teacher. She didn’t press him, sensing his hesitation. They exchanged a few snippets of conversation after that, but stuck to generalities, and it came as quite a relief when the lights were dimmed and the concert began. By this time she had finished her orange drink and she stowed the empty cup under her chair, relieved she had managed to avoid any disasters.

  The concert was remarkably good. In particular, there was a young violinist who played quite beautifully and the pianist who accompanied him, although probably barely thirteen or fourteen, was of a high standard. The choir were excellent and, altogether, the result was a concert of real quality. When it ended, just before eight o’clock, Suzie joined the rest of the audience in giving them all a standing ovation. As the lights came back on again, she was quite relieved when Michael took her arm and steered her out of the gymnasium without stopping to talk to any of the other audience members. Emerging into the dusk, he released his grip on her arm and she almost grabbed him back again in support as she sensed that he was struggling with some internal conflict. Instead, in an attempt to get a casual conversation going, she made a suggestion.

  ‘Alex and I had a lovely meal in Piazza Bra the other day. Would you let me buy you dinner there to say thank you for tonight and for lunch with you the other day?’

  He hesitated before answering and, although she couldn’t see his face very clearly, she could tell he was deliberating what to do. Finally he must have come to a decision.

  ‘Absolutely not. You’re my guest tonight and dinner’s on me. I’ve actually booked a table in a little place I know well. It’s not very sophisticated, but the food’s really good.’ His tone warmed. ‘If I’d known you’d turn up looking like you’ve just stepped off a film set, I’d have gone for somewhere far posher.’ Now she could hear him smiling, even if she couldn’t see him in the dark. ‘If you don’t mind slumming it, it’s only a ten-minute walk from here.’

  ‘Anywhere you like is good with me, but I still think it should be my treat.’

  But he wouldn’t hear of it. He led her through the pedestrian zone where they mingled with the crowds. Even though it was nearing the end of September, the tourist trade was quite evidently still booming here in Verona and there was a friendly, happy air to the place and the people. She hoped it would extend to him. For her part, the combination of this beautiful, historic city and this handsome, generous man was everything she could have wished for. Above them, the swallows had been replaced by bats in the night sky and they wheeled and turned around the street lights. There was a smile on her face as they made their way through the gathering dusk towards his chosen restaurant.

  The restaurant was charming. It was outside the main tourist area, located down a broad, tree-lined avenue on the other side of the river and, as he had said, it wasn’t flashy. In fact, unlike so many establishments here in Verona, the name also had nothing to do with either Shakespeare or Romeo and Juliet. It was simply called Da Beppe. Beppe, the owner, was a broad-shouldered man with grizzly stubble covering his chin. He greeted them with a welcoming smile and a friendly handshake for her, and a bear hug for Michael. The two men obviously knew each other well and Suzie listened in awe as Michael switched into faultless Italian with more than a hint of the local accent. This was the first time she had ever heard him saying more than a few words in Italian. Of course, she reminded herself, with an Italian wife, spending most of his time over here, it was natural he should have learnt the language well. He introduced her simply as ‘Suzie’, although she couldn’t miss the interrogative look she received from Beppe before he led them to their table. No doubt this restaurant was also somewhere that Michael used to come to with his wife.

  Confirming what Professor Macgregor-Brown had said, there was a big wicker basket on the counter, full of gorgeous-looking porcini mushrooms. The scent of the forest filled the air; a mixture of dry leaves, moss and wild herbs. There was no doubt this was high season for mushrooms. Above the bar were bottles of liqueur, and one whole shelf was filled just with different types of grappa, ranging from transparent, indistinguishable from water, to some a rich golden colour and some with what looked like herbs in them. Suzie knew this powerful spirit of old and determined to do her best to avoid having more than a sip. While working over here in Italy back in her student days, she had tasted some good grappa and a lot of very bad grappa, but one thing was certain: there was no such thing as weak grappa.

  As she sat down, she was interested to see a recurring theme in the pictures on the walls. Quite clearly, Beppe or somebody in his family was mad keen on windsurfing. There were photos of windsurfers racing, jumping, relaxing by the water and collecting medals and cups. To her considerable surprise, a black and white photo on the wall across the room from where they were sitting was unmistakably of three men on a podium receiving prizes, surrounded by a crowd of cheering people. The man in second position was none other than Beppe, but the surprise was the fact that the man on the top step of the podium, his wetsuit unzipped and hanging loose in front of him, exposing a muscular chest, was without a shadow of a doubt Michael. She suppressed a guilty little shiver of desire as she glanced back towards him and pointed across the room.

  ‘A man of many talents.’

  For a moment he looked puzzled and then, as his eyes alighted upon the photo, he looked positively uncomfortable. ‘Oh God, I’d forgotten. I wouldn’t want you to think I’d brought you here just to show off.’

  ‘Not in the least. But I’m fascinated that you’re a windsurfer.’ She then went on to tell him about the sail she had had with James at the weekend, and it was his turn to look surprised, and impressed.

  ‘You went out after the big storm on Sunday?’ He saw her nod. ‘Then you really must know what you’
re doing on a board. The conditions were pretty extreme.’

  ‘Were you out on Sunday?’

  He nodded. ‘Beppe and I were out for almost three hours. As a result, I could hardly lift my arms on Monday. It was awesome.’

  ‘You and he are big buddies, then?’

  Michael smiled. ‘He’s my best friend.’ But then his expression became more serious. ‘He’s been a real rock.’ At that moment Beppe returned with the menus and Michael returned a smile to his face as he broke the news that Suzie shared their interest in windsurfing. Beppe beamed.

  ‘He doesn’t always win gold, you know. I’ve beaten him loads of times.’

  ‘Three times, but who’s counting?’ Suzie was delighted to see Michael looking and sounding so animated. He glanced across at Suzie with an open, natural smile on his face and she found herself smiling back, happy for him. ‘One of the things I love most about living here is the windsurfing on the lake.’

  ‘And the other is my cooking.’ Beppe clapped him on the shoulder and left them to the menus.

  On Beppe’s recommendation, they opted for a salad of raw porcini mushrooms and local salami as a starter, followed by steak. As they ate, they chatted – at first hesitantly, but both of them relaxed as the evening progressed, helped in no small part by their shared interest in windsurfing and a bottle of Bardolino. The food was excellent and the steak, when it arrived, turned out to be a single massive T-bone between the two of them that Beppe carved vertically into strips. This was served with fresh rocket and slivers of Parmesan and the result was exquisite. Then, as Suzie reached the point where she couldn’t eat any more, Michael said something that took her mind right off food.

  ‘Suzie.’ There was something so compelling in his tone, she looked up immediately. ‘I need to tell you about my wife.’

  He hesitated, searching for words, and the desolate expression on his face said it all. As he cleared his throat apprehensively, she decided to help. Reaching across the table, she took his hand in hers. When she spoke, it was in hushed tones.

  ‘Michael, I know.’ As he looked a bit confused, she explained. ‘You see, I was so keen to find out more about this famous artist I’d just met that I googled you, and I saw the dreadful news about your wife.’ She gave his hand a squeeze. ‘I’m so terribly sorry. I can’t even begin to think how you must feel.’

  He dropped his eyes, but didn’t remove his hand from her grip. He set down his fork and sat there, immobile, for a couple of minutes, maybe more, before finally looking up.

  ‘It’s been awful, really awful.’ He was in control, but only just, and her heart went out to him. ‘We’d been married for almost five years and we were so very close, and then, in an instant, she was gone.’

  ‘I’m so, so sorry, Michael. I don’t know what to say.’

  ‘You’re very sweet. I really mean that.’ He summoned a weak smile before dropping his eyes again until he was staring down at her hand holding his. ‘This is the first time I’ve been out alone with a woman – apart from business – since it happened. That’s almost three years now. Like I say, Beppe and I are very close and I often come here to eat, but I always eat on my own or with a group of friends.’

  She saw him take a big mouthful of wine before resuming. This time it was with another attempt at a smile at her. ‘Suzie, the thing is, I like you a lot and I knew I’d enjoy your company, but this evening’s just brought home to me all the more poignantly so much of what I’ve lost. The concert, this place, just sitting at a table for two and looking across at a beautiful woman; they all bring the memories pouring back.’

  She could see his eyes were wet with tears, but he refused to let them run. She could feel her own eyes stinging now, and this time she knew it had nothing to do with her contact lenses.

  ‘Like I say, Suzie, I really like you and I have done from the very first moment I saw you back in Venice with Prosecco dripping off the end of your nose, but it’s no good. It’s all still too raw. I don’t know how you feel about me, but it’s only fair that you should know where I stand.’

  Suzie’s experience tonight had, to a great extent, already prepared her for this, but the disappointment she felt was palpable all the same. Still, doing her best to hide her regret, she gave his hand another little squeeze.

  ‘For what it’s worth, I like you a lot as well, Michael. I think you’re kind, you’re generous, supportive and very talented. I had a longish relationship that ended a year ago, but not in anything like such tragic circumstances, and I haven’t even thought about dating again. Like I said, I can only begin to imagine how grim life must have been for you over these last few years and I totally understand it’s going to take time before you can even begin to think of moving on – if you ever can.’ She mustered an encouraging smile. ‘But I do know one thing, Michael Turner. I’d like to keep you as my friend. Good friends are so very hard to find.’

  She read relief on his face. ‘Thanks, Suzie. You can always count on me as a friend. I promise.’

  Determined not to give in to her disappointment, she picked up her glass and held it out towards him. ‘Let’s drink to it.’

  He took his glass, clinked it against hers and managed a little smile in return. ‘To friendship.’

  Chapter 14

  Suzie got back to the hotel feeling dejected. It was all very well telling herself she was only going to be here in Italy for another couple of weeks, so there wouldn’t have been time for anything much to develop apart from, maybe, a fleeting holiday romance, but she knew herself well enough to recognise there could so easily have been more to it than that. He was kind, he was generous and his involvement with the special school and its pupils had endeared him to her even more. He was caring, talented and bright and there was no possible doubt about the fact that she found him very physically attractive. Under other circumstances, she knew she could so easily have fallen for him, and she couldn’t get away from the realisation that she had never felt quite like this about any man before – not even Rob. It was, therefore, with a heavy heart that she walked into her empty room and closed the door behind her. Without putting on the light, she opened the French windows and went out onto the terrace.

  Although it was almost eleven o’clock, it was still warm, although as October approached there was no longer the sultry heat of summer in the air. Before long, autumn would bring cold winds down off the mountains and the leaves would fall from the trees. Where she would be, and what she would be doing by then, was still the great unknown. She leant on the balustrade and looked out over the flickering lights of this city she was growing to love and felt tears in her eyes. She told herself she was crying for poor Michael and his tragic loss, but, deep down, she knew she was crying for herself as well. Here she was, nudging thirty, and her life was still far from settled. She had no job, no home – apart from her parents’ home in Devon – no direction, and she had no special someone at her side. In spite of the beauty of the view over the rooftops, she felt low.

  Finally rousing herself, she went back inside and the first thing she did was remove her disposable contact lenses. She wasn’t used to wearing them for any length of time and it was a relief to throw them in the bin and reach for her glasses once more. Her eyes were a bit red but, tonight, that wasn’t necessarily the fault of the lenses.

  However, she received a much-needed boost to her flagging spirits when she went back into her room and checked her emails. To her delight, there was one from Professor Macgregor-Brown and it instantly brought a smile back to her face. He informed her that he had read her doctoral thesis and had only the highest praise for it. He was very complimentary and he finished by asking if she might like to join him for Sunday lunch once again, in just two days’ time. She didn’t hesitate. Alex’s father would be here until Sunday afternoon and no doubt the two would be together, so she would be a free agent. She replied immediately, thanking the professor for his kind words and accepting his invitation.

  Next morning, she went dow
n to breakfast not expecting to see Alex until later on and was surprised to find her already sitting in the elegant dining room. As she looked up, Suzie could see at once that all was not well.

  ‘Hi, Suzie, how was your date?’ Suzie could see she was trying to sound cheerful.

  ‘It was a lovely concert and then we went to a super restaurant and had a great meal. I’ll tell you all about it in due course, but first, tell me how it all went with your father.’

  Alex shook her head. ‘It didn’t. I took your advice and waited all the way through the meal until he had relaxed and appeared to be enjoying himself. Finally, as we were walking back to the hotel, I brought up the subject of an art course…’

  Her voice tailed off and Suzie had to prompt her. ‘And…?’

  ‘And he said what I thought he’d say.’ Her voice was flat and heavy with disappointment.

  ‘He said no?’

  ‘He said no.’ Alex hesitated. ‘Well, to be precise, he said he’d think about it, but I could tell from his tone what his answer’s going to be.’

  Suzie tried to offer encouragement. ‘So he hasn’t actually said no yet?’

  ‘No, but…’

  ‘Give him time. You never know. And Michael gave me a message for you: if you do decide to do the course, it looks like the Academy will be happy to take you.’ Determined to cheer Alex up, she changed the subject. ‘What are your plans for today? Want to do something together?’

  Alex glanced at her watch. ‘Father’s already finished his breakfast and he said he was going for a walk. He’s got hold of a guide book and he’s keen to see as much as possible. I’m meeting him at ten.’

  ‘Do you want me to come along? I will, if you think you need a bit of moral support.’

  Alex hesitated. ‘Probably not this morning. I’d better stick by his side by myself. But he said he wants to take both of us out for dinner in some famous restaurant this evening, so why don’t you do your own thing until then?’ She gave Suzie a conspiratorial wink. ‘Maybe meet up with Michael?’