by T A Williams
‘I’m not going to sell it for now. I’ve given it to a holiday rental firm and they’ll manage it for me.’
‘So you’re leaving… when?’
‘Straight away. This weekend, I think. Best to make a clean break.’ He hesitated. ‘I wanted to tell you myself. I know you’ll understand. And I want you to know that I’ll miss you, Suzie. I’ll miss you a lot.’
Suddenly Suzie’s dream job in Verona was looking far less appealing. Under normal circumstances she would have been returning to the UK herself tomorrow and that would, at least, have meant that the distance between her and Michael would have been greatly reduced. For one crazy moment she found herself toying with the idea of contacting the professor and telling him she couldn’t, after all, accept the job offer, but then immediately rejected it. She had made a commitment and she knew she owed it to the old man – if not to her career – to stick to it. Besides, she told herself, being in the same country as Michael wouldn’t change the inescapable fact that as far as he was concerned they were nothing but friends, however much she knew she would love to take things to the next level. No, she told herself firmly, better here and employed than back home, unemployed and getting nowhere as far as romance with him was concerned. She took a deep breath and did her best to sound positive.
‘Of course I understand, Michael. You have to do what feels right for you. I’m glad you aren’t selling the house – at least for now. Maybe, with time, you’ll feel able to come back and pick up where you left off.’ She caught hold of both his hands in hers. ‘And I’ll miss you tremendously as well, but I do understand.’
They stood there for a few seconds and time seemed to stop. Even the sound of the rain faded away in her head and all she could feel was the warmth of his hands and a developing sense of loss. All her instincts were screaming at her to lean in for a kiss, but she didn’t.
And neither did he.
Chapter 21
Suzie spent Saturday at James’s villa with Alex and the others. Just to compound her woes, there wasn’t a breath of wind. She hadn’t slept well and the way she was feeling after Michael’s bombshell, she knew what she really needed was a crazy blast across the lake to let off steam. As it was, later that morning, she and Tommy went paddleboarding while James and Alex sat and talked, and Rafe remained glued to his phone. Last night’s rain had cleared, the sun had come out and the water was like a millpond. It was very pleasant to make their way gently along, parallel to the shore, avoiding the noisy ducks who were remarkably unafraid of these two humans as they floated past. It was fun to peek into the gardens of the villas lucky enough to be right on the waterfront and to watch all the people walking, running or cycling along the lakeside path when it returned to the water’s edge.
After half an hour or so, they stopped at a little cafe with tables outside by the water’s edge and ordered coffee, which proved to be remarkably good, considering the premises were little more than a wooden shack. Suzie sat back and relaxed as she chatted to Tommy about his studies and her plans for the research centre. Then the conversation suddenly turned to more personal matters.
‘James tells me you’ve fallen in love with Michael, the artist.’
Suzie spluttered into her cappuccino and, inevitably, felt the colour rush to her cheeks. She paused to mop her mouth with a napkin before replying.
‘I haven’t fallen in love with anybody.’ She took a deep breath. ‘We may be living in the most romantic city in Italy, but I’m not following Juliet’s example.’
He grinned. ‘That’s good to hear. That didn’t work out too well for them, did it?’
Suzie nodded and did her best to keep the conversation on Romeo and Juliet, rather than herself, but Tommy was persistent and soon brought the conversation back to the subject of her and Michael. ‘So there’s no big romance?’
Suzie sighed. ‘Nothing’s going to happen between me and Michael. Besides, he’s just told me he’s going back to England.’
‘What? Permanently?’
‘Apparently.’ Her tone was deflated and he couldn’t have missed it.
‘And you’ve got to stay here?’ He didn’t wait for Suzie’s nod. ‘Wow, that’s tough. Are you going to be okay?’
‘I’ll be fine, thanks. I’ve got the research centre to concentrate on.’ Deciding to turn defence into attack, she spun the question back at him. ‘So what about you? Are you married or engaged or whatever?’
He smiled. ‘Whatever, I suppose. I joined the army straight from university and it’s hard to combine the life of a junior officer with anything too serious on the personal front. Now, since I’ve left the army, I’m a bit like you. I’m concentrating on my studies. Yes, there’ve been a couple of girls, but nothing serious.’ Now it was his turn to look embarrassed. ‘Until I saw you, that is.’
‘Until you saw me?’ Suzie’s cheeks had gradually been returning to their normal colour, but this comment changed all that.
‘Do you believe in love at first sight, Suzie? You know, like Romeo when he first glimpsed Juliet?’
Suzie took refuge in the little ginger biscuit that had come with her coffee, taking her time over unwrapping it and slowly nibbling it crumb by crumb. She could hardly believe her ears. When the biscuit had finally disappeared, she did her best to give him a sensible answer.
‘I’m sure it exists – at least on an initial infatuation level. But whether it leads to anything lasting, who knows? As for you, Tommy, thank you. I’m really pleased you liked the look of me and I like you, too, but I’m not in the market for a man at the moment.’
‘Because of your artist?’
‘I don’t know. Really, I don’t.’ She could feel her cheeks still burning, but she felt surer of herself now. ‘It’s a funny thing, this love business. For Shakespeare it was all pretty cut and dried. Boy meets girl and falls in love. Girl falls in love with boy, they overcome a few obstacles and they all live happily ever after.’
‘Or, in the case of Romeo and Juliet, it all ends in tears.’
‘Quite, but there’s no dilly-dallying along the way. It’s either love or hate, and that’s that. In one act of Othello, he loves Desdemona; in the next, he’s killed her. Real life’s not like that – at least not my life. My artist friend – and that’s what we are, just good friends – definitely attracted me from the start. But circumstances conspired to make it impossible for any sort of romantic relationship to develop between the two of us. It’s nobody’s fault, but it just never really got off the ground.’ She marshalled a little smile. ‘And Shakespeare wouldn’t have liked it at all. Not enough drama.’
‘But you’re still hung up on him.’
Suzie was beginning to feel more relaxed now and it was easy to answer honestly. ‘I like him a lot, Tommy, but there’s no way it’s going to lead to a happy ending.’
‘I hope it does, for your sake. But if things don’t work out and you feel like having another bash at romance, you will remember me, won’t you?’
‘Of course I’ll remember you, Tommy.’
* * *
After another of Rosa’s sumptuous lunches, ending with homemade panna cotta, Suzie went down to the pool and lay down on one of the sunbeds, feeling quite weary after a couple of glasses of wine with the meal, her morning’s exercise and a lack of sleep the night before. Although the boys had swum in the pool the previous day, they had complained that the water temperature had dropped quite a bit, so she felt no desire to go in. Instead, she lay back in the autumn sunshine and let her eyes close. However, before she could doze off, she heard a voice.
‘Hi, Suzie, mind if I join you?’
She looked up, expecting to see Tommy. Instead, it was Rafe, looking unusually sheepish.
‘Of course. The sun’s still got some warmth in it.’
He sat down on a sunbed alongside her and a longish pause ensued before he spoke up.
‘Um… Suzie… my sister’s sent me down here to ask you for some advice.’
She glanced
at him and saw that, for once, she wasn’t the one looking embarrassed. Remembering the promise she had made to Alex, she pulled herself a bit more upright, resting on her elbows.
‘If I can help in any way, I’ll be only too happy to do so, but I’m no agony aunt, I’m afraid.’
This brought a little smile to his lips. ‘Thanks, Suzie… I imagine Alex told you all about it.’
‘Not much, really. She just mentioned that you were having a bit of trouble. Why don’t you talk me through it?’
Slowly at first, he related the whole sad story. As he talked, it became ever clearer that he liked this girl, Melanie, a lot. She lived in Exeter, about half an hour away from the manor, and she was a pharmacist at the hospital. Rafe and Melanie had been going out for three years now and they got on very well together. The problem was that she wasn’t of noble birth. He had spoken to his father about asking her to marry him and Lord Tedburn had poured cold water on the idea.
‘Why, exactly?’ Suzie asked the question, although she felt pretty sure she already knew the answer.
‘The line.’ Seeing Suzie’s expression, he elaborated. ‘The Tedburns have been at the manor since 1616. The title always goes to the senior male heir and that’s me. As such, Father feels I should marry somebody from a similar social level.’ He looked across at her morosely. ‘Pretty much what he’s told Alex to do with James.’
‘And has he anybody in mind?’
‘He’s paraded a number of suitable candidates before me over the years. His current pick is a distant cousin of Prince Charles’ who lives in Cornwall.’
‘And she doesn’t do anything for you?’
‘She’s a nice girl, but she isn’t Melanie. It’s quite simple, really. It’s Melanie I want. I know it. Melanie knows it, but Father won’t have it.’
Suzie lay back down again and let her eyes range across the big puffy white clouds far above. It was almost unthinkable that this could still be happening in the twenty-first century. She felt sure that Shakespeare would have recognised Rafe’s dilemma only too well. She had no doubt at all how she would have reacted if she had been in his shoes and she decided to say the same thing to him as she had said to Alex.
‘Are you sure you really want my advice?’
‘Yes, please. I can see how much happier Alex is now, and that’s down to you. She says so and I know she’s right. So, yes, please tell me what you think.’
So Suzie did. ‘You need to do what’s right for you, Rafe, not what’s right for your father. It’s pretty clear to me that, although he’s inherited some archaic ideas about parenting, deep down he loves you and Alex a lot. He will want you to be happy, even if it doesn’t square with his old-fashioned ways. If I were you, I’d tell him your mind’s made up and that’s that.’
‘And when he goes ballistic?’
‘Let him go ballistic. What’s the worst he could do, after all? He can hardly chuck you out of the family. That would effectively scupper all his desires to see the Tedburn line continued. Tell him you want to marry the girl you love. Remind him that even the future King of England has just married a commoner and times have changed. Make it clear to him that you’re going to do it with or without his blessing.’
There was silence for a moment before he replied. ‘That’s exactly what Alex has been telling me.’ He hesitated again. ‘It’s just that I’ve never refused to obey one of his orders before. It just doesn’t feel right.’
‘It’s up to you to decide, Rafe. All I can say is that if I were in your shoes, I wouldn’t hesitate. It’s your life and your happiness.’
She and Alex spent the night at the villa. She was quite relieved that nobody suggested another trip to the nightclub and, instead, the three men did a barbecue down by the lakeside. Suzie offered to help, but was handed a glass of champagne and told to relax, so she did just that. She sat down on a bench at the water’s edge and sipped her wine, dividing her attention between the boats on the lake and events closer to home. Rafe was still looking worried, and she hoped her few words this afternoon might help him. Alex appeared happy and Suzie was glad to hear her laughing a lot. As for the other two men, the expressions on their faces were so similar at times that Suzie felt like smiling, but she genuinely felt sorry for both of them – especially as she was partly to blame.
It was a very unusual experience for her to find herself, for once, with a handsome man quite evidently pining for her. And alongside Tommy, James was evidently equally smitten by Alex and, as the evening progressed, she noticed numerous longing looks on the faces of both men. She sat back and tried to analyse the way this made her feel.
She liked Tommy, and the fact that he shared many of her interests was endearing. There was no doubt they were getting on well together. So why, she asked herself, had she turned him down and told him she wasn’t interested? Of course, the short answer was Michael. However, after last night’s bombshell that he was leaving, it was pretty obvious Michael was no longer anything more than a boat that had passed in the night – a very desirable, if damaged, boat, but one that was now heading in the other direction. So, she wondered, where did this leave her and Tommy? If he carried out his promise to come to the research centre in the new year, and if he still felt the same way about her, what would she do? She had never had a man admit to having been struck by love at first sight for her before. Her impression of him had been positive – give or take a few beers too many – but love? He was handsome, intelligent and, of course, ridiculously wealthy, so could she see herself developing feelings for him? She spent the evening sipping champagne and wondering.
Chapter 22
The next weeks as October led into November were bittersweet for Suzie. She often thought of Michael, but heard little from him apart from an occasional email informing her of his progress in looking for a suitable house with space for a studio back in the UK. She read and reread the few messages that arrived from him with as much care as if she were studying a hitherto unseen masterpiece by her beloved Shakespeare, but failed to identify anything in his words that hinted at anything more than just friendship. In reply she sent him updates on the progress of the research centre, but didn’t allow herself anything more intimate than a single little x before her name at the bottom of the page.
On the other hand, she regularly received messages, emails and calls from Tommy. He kept her informed about the progress of his studies and often asked her advice. He was obviously enjoying being back at university after seven taxing years in the army, although she got the impression he missed the excitement. He told her all about himself and, gradually, she opened up to him about her background, aspirations and hopes for the future. It was quite clear that he still hoped that there would be a place for him in that future and, although she felt flattered, she knew she couldn’t commit – at least, not yet. She came to enjoy, and even look forward to, her talks with him and there was no doubt that he was beginning to occupy a place in her head, but still not in her heart. That remained stubbornly filled with the memory of a heartbroken artist, however hard she tried to tell herself he was a lost cause.
The research centre itself gradually began to take shape and occupied more and more of her time, which was in many ways a blessing, filling her thoughts and stopping her from dwelling too much on what might have been. She loved almost all of the process – although her introduction to Italian bureaucracy, as the professor had warned, was less enjoyable and at times immensely frustrating. She busied herself with everything from arranging the installation of new toilets and choosing a state-of-the-art computer system to setting up a bank account – something that involved even more bureaucracy. She wrote papers, designed a new website and spent an inordinate amount of time sending out messages to academic centres all over the world to publicise the forthcoming launch of the centre, scheduled for early in the new year – as long as the necessary planning permission was granted.
She saw Professor Macgregor-Brown almost on a daily basis and was greatly relieved to h
ear him volunteer to liaise with the lawyers in setting up the new charitable trust. In one meeting devoted to this tortuous subject in late November, at which she was also present, she was surprised to hear a familiar name mentioned.
‘Professore, have you drawn up a list of possible trustees?’
Avvocato Verdi, the lawyer, was a tall, immaculately-dressed gentleman in his sixties who emanated an air of trustworthiness and infallibility. He also emanated enough powerful aftershave to anaesthetise an elephant and Suzie inevitably returned from these meetings, leapt into the shower and changed clothes completely. Today she had taken a seat at the far end of the highly-polished mahogany table in the hope of avoiding the worst of it, but the damp autumn weather had suddenly turned decidedly wintry and the windows were sealed shut. Seated between her and the lawyer, Mack appeared impervious to the tsunami of cologne wafting down the table as he read out a list of names of local – and as it turned out, not so local – dignitaries as trustees. The final name on his list was, ‘Michael Turner, the famous portrait painter.’
Even now, nearly six weeks after her last sight of him that wet October night, Michael’s name was enough to give Suzie a little tremor as she found herself wondering if this might bring him back to Verona – even just for a day. The lawyer took the list from Mack and they moved on to other matters, but Suzie was still thinking about Michael as she walked back home after the meeting, huddled into her winter coat, her breath forming clouds in the air in front of her. The tops of the hills behind the town were now white with snow and, in the high Alps beyond, she knew that the ski resorts were already preparing for the start of the season. So engrossed in her thoughts was she, she almost bumped into Alex as she emerged into Piazza Bra.
‘Hi, Suzie. A penny for your thoughts.’ Alex, now wearing jeans, trainers, and a cosy jacket purchased from the Saturday market down at the stadium, was looking happy – as she had been for the past weeks since embarking upon her course at the Academy. ‘You looked miles away.’