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

by T A Williams

  It then transpired that Alex had also got clothes on her mind – albeit of a very different kind.

  ‘And I’ve been thinking, Suzie, I’ve got a load of really quite expensive designer clothes and shoes with me. I’ve found a website specialising in that sort of thing, so I’ll get started on putting some of the stuff up for sale and that should help to pay the bills.’

  Now Suzie was even more impressed. She had rarely seen Alex in anything but designer clothes and this decision to slum it couldn’t have been easy. She smiled back. ‘So, just like your father feared, now that you’re an art student, you’ll be going bohemian?’

  ‘Don’t worry.’ Alex was grinning. ‘I’ll still keep washing regularly and changing my underwear. But the others on the taster course with me were just dressed in T-shirts and shorts or jeans, so I won’t need the pricey stuff any more. Besides, I want to try to fit in.’

  Suzie nodded approvingly and went on to show her the email she had received from Professor Macgregor-Brown. Alex sounded as intrigued as she was.

  ‘I wonder what it is. I do hope it’s something exciting.’

  Professor Macgregor-Brown’s news was definitely all of that and more. When Suzie got to the villa, sat on the sofa and finally dissuaded the happy dog from climbing onto her lap, she listened in fascination to what the old man had to say. The first thing he said was unexpected.

  ‘I’m not sure if I ever told you, Suzie, but my wife was from Verona.’

  ‘Your wife? I must admit I hadn’t realised you were married.’

  He nodded slowly. ‘I met her at a conference in Verona and it was love at first sight.’ He managed a little smile. ‘Just like Romeo and Juliet. The marriage lasted forty-five years and they were the very best years of my life. When she died ten years ago, I thought my life had also ended. I felt lost, abandoned and alone.’

  Even after all these years, there was still a catch in his voice and Suzie had to control the urge to go over and hug him.

  ‘I’m so sorry. Do you still miss her?’

  The answer was immediate. ‘Every day of my life, Suzie. Every single day.’ He paused for a few seconds and then she saw him take a deep breath. ‘Anyway, life goes on and before long it’ll be my turn next. For the past few years I’ve been thinking about what my legacy might be. Yes, I’ve written a few books, achieved a certain degree of academic success, but I want to go further.’

  Suzie didn’t interrupt, wondering what was coming next. After a few moments of reflection, he continued.

  ‘Ines – that was her name – came from a very wealthy family and I inherited this villa and a fine house in Verona from her. When she passed away, I ended up with the houses and far more money in the bank than I’ll ever need… although I’d happily relinquish it all just to have her back.’

  He reached out with his foot and absently scratched Dogberry’s backside and Suzie heard the dog grunt with pleasure. His heavy black head, as usual, was resting on her feet and she felt sure she caught a smile on the dog’s face as he glanced up at her. She leant forward and scratched his ears and heard his tail thud lazily on the floor as she gently prompted the professor, who looked miles away.

  ‘So what sort of legacy are you thinking of?’

  ‘We never had children and I’ve no close family left so, rather than see it all go to some second or third cousin I’ve never even met, I’d like to create something worthwhile. I’ve been toying with the idea of establishing a bursary and a research position at Oxford – they’d jump at it, I’m sure – but there’s always the risk of university politics coming into play. I’d like the scholars who come after me to be able to make their own decisions, to decide what and whom to study, without any pressure from above. So I’ve gradually been changing my mind, and your arrival here and our fascinating chats about Shakespeare have convinced me that an alternative is needed.’ He looked across at her and nodded. ‘And now I think I’ve come up with the solution.’

  The animation on his face was wonderful to see and Suzie leant forward, listening attentively as he laid out his plans.

  ‘Over the centuries, Italy has inspired so many English-speaking poets, writers and playwrights. And I’m not just talking about Shakespeare.’ He smiled. ‘Whoever he or she might have been. It’s clear that Chaucer was definitely influenced by Boccaccio’s Decameron and let’s not forget the great romantic poets like Shelley and Byron as well as twentieth-century writers like E.M. Forster, Ernest Hemingway and Robert Graves. What I’d like to do is to establish a research centre here in Italy to help academics from all over the world who are studying the influence of Italy on anglophone literature.’

  ‘When you say “here in Italy”, are you talking about Verona?’ Suzie could hear the excitement in her own voice.

  ‘Precisely. Verona has a long and illustrious pedigree as a centre of learning. Have you been to visit the old library yet, the Biblioteca Capitolare? It’s reputed to be the oldest library in the world and it’s almost certain that such giants as Dante and Petrarch used it. Now, as it happens I’m good friends with the current director of the library and we’ve been talking.’ He smiled again. ‘He’s very enthusiastic about my idea and, with his support, I think it really could become something worthwhile.’

  Suzie felt her heart racing in her chest. ‘And do you think I might be able to help with your project?’

  He shook his head and a wave of disappointment swept over her, but only for a second or two. ‘I don’t want you to help, Suzie, I want you to run it.’

  ‘You want me to run it…?’ Her voice tailed off helplessly and she saw his smile broaden.

  ‘I’m far too old now for being anything but a gnarled old figurehead, while it seems to me that you’re perfect for the job. Your academic track record is ideal, you speak both languages and, above all, you’re the sort of person who gets on well with people, and believe me, that will be essential. You’ll need all your people skills to get the local authorities on our side, and considerable tact to get the academic world in Britain and beyond to take us seriously, but I’m convinced that if anybody can do it, you can.’ His expression was suddenly more serious. ‘So, tell me, are you interested?’

  ‘Am I…?’ Suzie was stumped for words for a moment. Hastily collecting herself, she felt she had to make a few things clear first. ‘Prof… Mack, I’m so amazingly grateful and honoured that you should even begin to consider me for something of this magnitude and I’d love to do it, but are you certain I’m the right person for the job? I’m sure you know me well enough by now to have worked out that I’m not exactly an outgoing extrovert and my threshold of embarrassment’s very low. As your representative, I wouldn’t want to let you down.’

  ‘You’d never let me down, Suzie, I’m sure.’ He was smiling now. ‘And don’t worry about the self-confidence thing. It’ll come. What I intend to do is to use the house in Verona, assuming we can get planning permission from the council. It should lend itself well to transformation into the sort of facility I have in mind and as the research centre grows in size and influence we can start looking for something bigger in due course. For now, there’s ample room on the ground and first floors for the centre and, if you’re interested, you could have the use of the apartment on the top floor – naturally, free of charge. You’ll need somewhere to live and I think you’ll find it’s quite comfortable. It’s furnished and there are two bedrooms so it should be big enough for you and a friend if you want. You’d get a fairly modest salary at first but, hopefully, as the centre begins to grow in importance, that could increase. And as it becomes better known, I’d like to think we should be able to obtain sponsorship to help it expand and thrive. How does that sound? Does it appeal to you?’

  This time Suzie couldn’t resist jumping to her feet, surprising the snoozing dog as she did so, and rushing across to shake the professor’s hand like crazy. If he hadn’t just told her he was going to become her employer, she would have kissed him. He caught her hand in both o
f his.

  ‘Can I take that as a yes, then?’

  By this time Dogberry had also jumped to his feet and was standing on his hind legs, scrabbling at the two of them with his massive paws, tail wagging furiously. Suzie stroked him with her free hand before looking back at the professor.

  ‘You most certainly can. Yes, please. And thank you so very, very much, I can’t imagine anything better. When would you like me to start?’

  Apart from the offer of a job, the realisation was beginning to dawn upon her that the use of the apartment immediately removed the main stumbling block for Alex’s plans for the future as well. They would now have somewhere to live, and it would be free!

  ‘Excellent. You can start as soon as you like. Shall we say a week on Monday? That way you can finish your holiday and make all the necessary arrangements first. Now, let’s have some tea and a slice of Paolina’s cake and we can start discussing the details. It’ll mean the creation of a charitable trust, with trustees and so on. I’m afraid that over these next few months it’ll be a pretty steep learning curve for you as you get to grips with the arcane mysteries of the Italian legal system and the country’s crippling bureaucracy.’ He released her hand and she straightened up, the smile still on her face. ‘But you’ll soon pick it up. And I’ll be behind you all the way.’

  By the time Suzie emerged from the villa with a set of keys to the professor’s Verona house in her bag, the smile on her face still hadn’t faded in the slightest. The more they had discussed the project, the more fascinated she had become. Slowly but surely the realisation had dawned upon her that she not only had a job, but this would be doing something perfectly suited to her background, qualifications and experience. Even in her wildest dreams she could never have imagined anything so amazing. As he had said, the pay wouldn’t be massive, but with free accommodation she calculated that she would actually be better off than she had been in London. And also, a little voice whispered inside her head, this would mean that she would be able to remain close to a certain artist – whether he wanted her close or not.

  As she waited for the bus, she pulled out her phone and called Alex to break the good news. Alex was delighted – for Suzie and also for what this would mean for herself.

  ‘You mean we’ve got the offer of a flat and it’s free?’ Suzie could hear the disbelief in her voice. ‘Are you sure?’

  ‘So sure that I suggest you and I meet there in, say, an hour’s time. He’s given me a set of keys.’

  She dictated the address, adding that the professor had told her it was bang in the heart of the centro storico, less than 200 metres from the Arena, and they agreed to meet there at six. After that she called her mother and told her about this amazing stroke of good fortune and all the way home on the bus she couldn’t stop smiling. Her mum had sounded delighted – and relieved. Suzie knew full well that her parents had been worried for her after she had lost her job in London, and she could sense the joy at the other end of the line. They had always been so very supportive and they knew just what this meant to Suzie, even though it would keep her further from them. The professor’s job offer had been a boost to the whole family and Suzie had a feeling her father might well get the sherry bottle out for a celebratory drink this evening as a result.

  Alex was already waiting for her when she got to the professor’s Verona house at ten to six, staring at it in silent appreciation. It was a fine old townhouse, part of a row in a narrow street deep in the heart of the old town, a stone’s throw from Piazza delle Erbe, and they all looked hundreds of years old. She unlocked the three separate locks, turned the handle and pushed. After clearing a pile of junk mail from the mat, she opened the door fully and they went inside.

  The first thing that struck her was how elegant it was in there, in spite of its fairly bland exterior. The ceilings were high, and swirls and curves had been painted onto the plaster, giving it the impression more of a palace, rather than just a home. There were two large rooms and a small kitchen on the ground floor. The room at the rear opened onto a lovely little garden area with a palm tree in the middle and an ancient rambling rose climbing all over the walls, pink petals littering the ground beneath it, its perfume wafting in through the French windows. Upstairs was a big bathroom and more large rooms, one of which even had a fresco of nymphs and cherubs painted on the ceiling. A locked door gave onto a staircase that led up to the apartment on the top floor.

  This proved to be perfect. The kitchen was modern, the bathroom spotless, the living room huge and the two bedrooms both a good size. It was furnished with some rather fine antique pieces; not least two massive beds with tall carved wooden headboards. There were radiators mounted on the walls and no doubt these would come into their own as the months went by and winter approached. Even better, they had a fine view out over the rooftops towards the mountains and, outside, there was even a rooftop terrace, although it was piled high with clutter. Alex was positively jumping for joy.

  ‘What a place! I was already bracing myself for only being able to afford some rat-infested slum. Instead of which we’ve got this super little flat. It’s amazing.’

  Suzie agreed entirely and she also approved of the accommodation on the lower floors which should be easily convertible into the sort of academic research centre the professor had outlined. She took a few photos to send to her parents and then, by mutual agreement, they decided to go out for a celebration dinner.

  Suzie decided to take Alex to Beppe’s restaurant. Whether this was just for the sake of the food or on the off chance of bumping into Michael was something upon which she refused to let her mind dwell, but Alex knew her so well by now. As they stood outside under the Da Beppe sign, looking at the menu in the window, Alex caught Suzie by the arm.

  ‘So, what if your Michael’s in there? Do we go and sit with him?’

  ‘He’s not my Michael…’ Suzie realised that she was beginning to sound like a stuck record and gave a little snort. ‘If he’s here and if he invites us to his table, then of course we’ll join him, but he won’t be, I’m sure.’ Before she got too carried away on that train of thought, she decided to redirect the focus onto Alex. ‘By the way, have you told him you’ve enrolled on the course?’

  Alex nodded. ‘Yes, I sent him an email this lunchtime, but I haven’t had a response. His phone’s probably off.’ She grinned mischievously. ‘I could try calling him now and tell him we’re here. Maybe invite him?’

  ‘Leave him alone, Alex. He’s probably working. Besides, I don’t want to give the impression I’m hounding him.’

  The restaurant was well over half full, but Michael was not among the diners. Suzie couldn’t help a little twinge of disappointment, but she hid it as Beppe came over to greet them. To her surprise, he caught her shoulders in his powerful hands and kissed her on the cheeks.

  ‘Ciao, bella.’ He released her and shook hands with Alex. ‘Another beautiful lady. It’s my lucky night.’

  He spoke in Italian and, although Alex’s command of Italian was still little more than rudimentary, Suzie could see that she had understood him. After all, the words bella and fortunato were pretty self-evident. Alex gave him a big smile as she replied.

  ‘Buona sera, Beppe.’ She grinned. ‘I’m afraid that’s about all I can say in Italian, but I’m trying to learn.’

  Beppe smiled back at her and accompanied them to the same little table where Suzie and Michael had sat the previous week. After Beppe had left them to make up their minds, Suzie pointed out the windsurfing photos on the walls. Alex nodded towards the photo of Michael with his bare chest and winked at Suzie. ‘It’s enough to put you off your food. What a hunk!’

  Suzie had to agree, but she knew it was wiser to try not to think of him in such terms. They were, after all, just good friends. He had made that perfectly clear.

  The meal was excellent. After a mixed salad starter, they both opted for Beppe’s homemade lasagne and it definitely hit the spot. Alex rolled her eyes and told Suzie they woul
d definitely have to come back. When Beppe returned to the table to remove their empty plates, Suzie was delighted to hear Alex making a real effort.

  ‘Lasagne molto buono, Beppe.’ To reinforce the message, Alex brought her fingers to her lips and kissed them in the Italian way. The big man beamed at her and replied in heavily accented English.

  ‘Thank you, beautiful lady.’ He then turned to Suzie and carried on in Italian. ‘My wife and I really need to improve our English. Our eight-year-old speaks it better than we do. We get so many foreign customers these days, it’s absolutely essential. I know, why doesn’t your friend give us English lessons and we’ll give her Italian lessons? That way we’ll both be happy.’

  Suzie relayed the suggestion to Alex, who jumped at it, and an appointment was fixed for Tuesday at five o’clock here at the restaurant. Hopefully this would also help to accelerate Alex’s assimilation into the Italian way of life.

  Chapter 19

  Sunday was a quiet day for both of them, but the same couldn’t be said for Monday. Around mid-morning on Monday, all hell broke loose. Suzie was in her room, investigating other similar research centres around the world on the Internet to get a better idea of what would be expected, when there was frantic knocking at her door. It was Alex and she had her iPad in her hand.

  ‘Half an hour ago I sent the email to my father. I’ve just had his reply.’ She shrugged her shoulders helplessly. ‘You won’t be surprised to hear he’s gone through the roof.’

  As she spoke, Suzie heard her phone bleep. Somehow she had a shrewd idea of who the sender of this email might be. She wasn’t wrong. It was from Lord Tedburn. It was polite, but terse, and it contained instructions for her to talk some sense into Alexandra, who will be quite unable to exist without the luxuries to which she has become accustomed.

  She held it up for Alex to read. ‘Not a happy man. What does yours say?’