Runaway Love

by Nicole W. Lee

  Shops touting a myriad of sports equipment and clothing, the usual gifts, basic foodstuffs, boutiques, a beauty parlour and Italian and international cuisine via two smart restaurants took up the east and west sides of the square.

  The north and south sides each had their own elegant hotel. In front of both of the hotels, ice carvings of adults and children in skiing or skating poses added to the fairy-tale atmosphere. The sun was taking its toll on the ice but the details were still visible.

  Although Lorenzo and Genie had to dodge the occasional car passing through the square the main transport seemed to be ornate horse-drawn carriages. In place of wheels, the carriages were mounted on skis. They positioned themselves before the snow carvings. As one lurched into motion filled with excited tourists on a joy ride, another immediately took its place.

  Their progress through the square was slow. Everyone knew Lorenzo. It was, “”Signor Lorenzo,” this, and “Signor Lorenzo,” that, and the stops for chats in Italian too fast for Genie to follow were interminable.

  They even lavished their attention on Domino as if he was a celebrity.

  Perhaps he was. Probably rescued a few people.

  Naturally, Genie received once-overs in spades. Lorenzo’s acquaintances were extremely curious and paid her serious attention. Nevertheless, it wasn’t hard to see in their expressions that they’d already decided about her relationship with Lorenzo. His gracious introductions of, “Mi amica, Signorina Genie ‘Amilton,” did nothing, she was sure, to quell their fertile imaginations.

  Despite this, the people responded with genuine warmth that Genie had rarely experienced before. It was clear that whoever she was didn't matter since she was L'amica di Signor Lorenzo - in whatever form.

  Genie handled it all with as much amusement as did Lorenzo. “They don't quite know what to make of you,” he told her.

  “But they have their ideas.”

  “Assolutamente.” He turned to her wearing that grin that always created havoc with Genie's heart. “They must have heard about the incident with the bath.”

  “Lorenzo,” Genie scolded, landing a friendly punch on his arm.

  However, their keen observations did create a little uneasiness in Genie. She wasn't one for putting up a front but, with the way everyone was deferring to Lorenzo, she felt that she was improperly dressed for the occasion. She had chosen jeans, a casual woollen top and a padded jacket for the outing. If they wanted to imagine her as someone special in Lorenzo's life, the least she could do was to look the part.

  Worse still, all these people must have seen Anna in this get-up.

  It was doing an injustice to Anna - and to Lorenzo.

  They must be seeing her as a usurper - Lorenzo's replacement woman.

  That made her decision for her.

  It really was time to go.

  Tomorrow would be a good time.

  Time to tell Lorenzo.

  Over lunch would be a good time.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  The local Police Headquarters - or as Lorenzo called it, “The Questura” - was an imposing building just off the main square. A partially filled car park fronted the Questura, and the wide steps that led to the main door gave it an air of elegance. It looked as though it had been a private villa in the old days.

  Inside, they encountered a sparse, immaculately clean entrance hall. Genie spotted two closed doors off to her right, with a solid-looking bench in between. It didn't look very comfortable. She hoped they wouldn't have to sit there for a long time while the cops sorted out her stuff. She saw another door facing her at the far end, with an ascending staircase a meter or so to its right. However, the main attraction was a long counter, running the full length of the room, to her left.

  As Genie, Lorenzo and Domino neared the counter, a portly police sergeant rose from his swivel chair, shuffled out from his paper-engulfed desk and met them with a wide grin and, of course, another effusive, “Ben venuto Signor Lorenzo”.

  “Grazie Marco,” Lorenzo responded.

  Genie wondered if anybody ever used surnames In San Rafaele.

  The moment she heard, “Signorina Genie” in the midst of Lorenzo's rapid Italian, she became the subject of keen scrutiny by the Sergeant.

  “This is Sergeant Antonelli,” Lorenzo said.

  Domino pushed his way protectively in between Genie and the counter.

  “Pleased to meet you,” Genie responded, leaning over Domino's ample body and stretching out her hand to the Sergeant.

  “Piacere.” Sergeant Antonelli then grasped her hand, let loose a veritable downpour of Italian and, in between, kissed the back of her hand no less than three times.

  “It seems he likes you,” Lorenzo said through a wicked smile.

  Greetings over, there followed a great deal of chatter between Lorenzo and the Desk Sergeant, while the latter looked at Genie for most of the conversation. Finally, Lorenzo turned to her. “Sergeant Antonelli is very apologetic about your being robbed. He says it is a blot on his country and his countrymen. The Sergeant wants you to know that these terrible criminals will be in prison for a long time. He wishes to apologize most profusely to the lady of Signor Lorenzo.”

  “So, I'm your lady now, am I?” Genie said in mock seriousness.

  “Only for this visit,” Lorenzo said. “It will get things done more quickly.” He shrugged.

  “Quickly is good,” Genie said. “I accept the honour of being the lady of Signor Lorenzo - for the time being. Besides, it looks like it's the key to getting special treatment around here. Oh, and I accept the Sergeant's apology too.”

  Lorenzo responded with a smile and made a short statement to the Sergeant.

  He, in turn, placed his hand on his heart and poured out a tsunami of “Grazies”.

  When the last one dropped from Sergeant Antonelli's lips, as if in response to a silent signal, two other Policemen appeared from the door at the rear. They positioned themselves one each side of Sergeant Antonelli. Once again, Genie had to endure another round of greetings and quick chats with Signor Lorenzo. All the while the three Cops shot Genie admiring glances, bordering on lust, in that non-offensive way only the Italians can achieve.

  In the middle of all this, Genie a well-fed policeman making a grand entrance down the staircase caught Genie's attention. His confident military-style walk and his immaculate, amply decorated uniform, positively screamed, “I'm in charge around here.”

  Domino was highly delighted to see the new arrival. He abandoned Genie and trotted over to the foot of the stairs to be greeted with a bucket load of pats of affection and soothing words.

  “Genie,” Lorenzo said, “I'd like you to meet my good friend, Commissario Bernardo Testa.

  The Commissario disengaged himself from Domino and advanced on Genie wearing a broad grin. He grasped Genie's hand and clicked his heels to attention. “Piacere,” he said. “It is an honour to meet you.” He spoke in a slow measured pace as if he had practiced it ready for this occasion.

  By the time he'd finished with Genie's hand, she wondered if the back of it would ever recover. It had been kissed sore.

  Once Commissario Testa had dispensed with the requisite enthusiastic greetings and chatter - in exotic English - he puffed out his chest and barked out an order in Italian.

  Since he was looking at Genie at the time she wondered if she had to do something - or had committed some local crime. But, when Sergeant Antonelli said, “Si, Commissario,” she knew she was off the hook.

  The Sergeant hauled out a small cardboard box and placed it carefully on the counter. He laid out Genie's stolen items, one by one, with flourishes that would have put a stage magician to shame. She verified each one and breathed a sigh of relief as her credit and charge cards made their appearance.

  Following the finale of the performance, while Genie gathered her belongings, San Rafaele's finest engaged Lorenzo with a flow of chatter, much of it, Genie recognized referred to her. Some even brought smiles from Lorenzo. At o
ne point, he released an audible snigger, prompting Genie to elbow him in his ribs.

  To complete the procedure, she had to sign a mountain of forms under the gentle guidance of Commissario Testa. When they had been double-checked by Sergeant Antonelli, complete with more profuse apologies about the robbery, he handed her one copy while voicing, “Grazie mille Signorina” in triplicate. He pinned the remaining copies together and placed carefully on a lofty stack of documents, in imminent danger of toppling over, in - or more properly - on, what Genie guessed was an out tray.

  “Is that it?” Genie asked.

  “Un momento,” Lorenzo said. He fielded what appeared to be a question or request from Commissario Testa.

  “What's happening?” Genie asked.

  “Commissario Testa was shy to ask you.”

  Il Commissario nodded his concurrence.

  “Ask away,” she said, looking directly at Testa.

  “He would like you to take a photograph of him and his colleagues.”

  Genie laughed. “What on earth for?”

  “They seem to think you are a famous photographer.”

  “Where did they--?”

  “Please do not ask. You may disillusion them. Is it all right?”

  “Of course it is,” she said picking up her favourite single lens reflex. She confirmed it was still in working order and loaded with a digital disc. “No problema,” she told Testa.

  Her use of Italian evoked a round of exaggerated laughter of approval from the on looking Policemen.

  When she was ready, using hand signals and the odd instruction in Italian, she managed to get them into a pleasantly composed grouping. Holding her camera out to examine them in the viewfinder, she told them to shout, “Formaggio.” As soon as the word was out and the laughter followed, she snapped off several rapid shots.

  “Lorenzo, please tell them I'll send them a copy when I get back to England.”

  When Lorenzo passed on her message, they got very excited. The Sergeant grabbed a piece of paper and quickly wrote down their addresses. As he handed the paper to her, he made his own request to Lorenzo.

  “What'd he say?” Genie asked.

  “He...they - these are his words - they would like it very much if La Signorina 'Amilton would be kind enough to join them for a photograph as well.”

  Genie struggled to remain serious. “Of course,” she said. “Certo, Sergente.”

  “I volunteered to work the camera,” Lorenzo said.

  Genie gave him a quick course in camera management and joined the bevy of policemen behind the counter. Somehow, they all managed to stand in bodily contact with her.

  Not to be left out, Domino moved in close to the group, turned round to face Lorenzo, and sat down on Genie's feet.

  Lorenzo demanded a shout of “cheese,” from everyone and the flash did its work.

  Before they escaped, Genie had to shake hands with everyone, receiving, in addition a kiss on the back of her hand from the gracious Commissario Testa.

  Domino nosed his way in between them and snuffled.

  “I'm sorry, Commissario, he won't leave me alone.”

  “He guard you well, no?” He patted Domino's back several times, soothing him with, “Va bene Va bene.” He then stood up and shaking hands with Lorenzo, he made a brief comment in rapid Italian.

  “What was that all about?” she asked, following their escape.

  “Oh, nothing really.”

  “Lorenzo,” Genie said, grabbing his arm to halt him. “That was an awful lot of words from Il Commissario to be nothing.”

  He shrugged. “If you must know, he congratulated me on my lucky find.”

  Genie loosed an unladylike guffaw. “He's right. I am a lucky find.”

  “Yes, you are,” Lorenzo said quietly.

  For once, Genie experienced tongue-paralysis. It was clear Lorenzo meant what he said - and just as clear, so were the feelings with which he said it. Her resolve to announce her imminent departure started to fray at the edges.

  “Shall we go,” Lorenzo said after a few seconds silence. “I need to spend a little time 'arranging for some supplies. Why don't you have a cup of coffee at the Skating Rink Coffee Shop and I'll join you there?”

  “I'll tell you what, Lorenzo,” Genie said, “you go and do your thing. Now that I'm out in public, I feel a little dowdy. Can't have La Signorina di Lorenzo - that is to say, his lucky find - looking dowdy, now can we?”

  “You do not look...dowdy - what is--?”

  “Not very smart.”

  “Dowdy - smart,” he said to settling the new word into his personal English vocabulary. “You look very fine to me.”

  “Well, I want to look better than very fine, thank you very much. I'm going to pay a visit to that beauty parlour over there.”

  “Va bene. We'll meet in the Rink Coffee Shop when you're ready. Then we'll have lunch.”

  The mention of lunch jarred Genie. It was supposed to be a make or break time. “Sounds good,” she said. “But, I’ll have to see if they can fit me in first.”

  Lorenzo made a wicked grin. “Just tell them that you’re La Signorina di Signor Lorenzo,” he said. “They’ll fit you in.”

  “Wonderful. I'm going to be typecast in this town forever after this.”

  “I'm afraid you already are. Gossip is an important hobby in San Rafaele.”

  “Ah well,” Genie said, “in that case, it's doubly important that I get a 'full service'. Can't have the reputation of Signor Lorenzo dented by a scruffy urchin. I'll carry a red rose when I come out so you'll recognize me.”

  “No need.” Lorenzo started to back away. “I'll just look for Domino. It looks like he's determined to stay with you.”

  “Wonderful again. I'll get him a makeover too. He can carry the red rose.”

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Genie was greatly pleased with her new look.

  The ministrations of Fabiana, the beautician, had begun the process of transforming her into a more appropriate image of “La Signorina di Lorenzo”. Within an hour, Genie's hair was washed, blow-dried and trimmed to resurrect her favourite Bob, and she had been thoroughly facial-ed, waxed and made up.

  It turned out that the next door Boutique was an extension of the Beauty Parlour. Fabiana introduced Violetta, her sister, and stayed to assist.

  Genie's original intention was to buy a single outfit for the current outing but the girls had different ideas. They tempted Genie with so many wonderful, in-vogue, outfits, she was spoilt for choice. So she didn't choose.

  She took the lot.

  “Why not?” she'd rationalized. “After all, those damn thieves trashed most of my clothes. And anyway, my own clothes should make me look less like an Anna substitute.”

  For 'coming out' on this day, Genie carefully selected items to wear immediately that fitted in with the general local snow fashion but with a subtle aura of elegance. She wanted Lorenzo to say, “Wow” - or whatever the equivalent was in Italian.

  The girls approved enthusiastically and, while Genie dressed in her new outfit, Fabiana and Violetta boxed and tied up the remainder of her purchases and the clothes Genie had worn previously.

  Genie slipped into black leggings, scarlet patterned wool socks, and a pair of brown lace-up snow boots. A light blue wool crew-neck top overlaying a very un-sexy thermal vest felt snug and warm. Just right for the brisk Alpine air. She completed the picture with a tartan scarf tied off in a neat bow in front of her left shoulder.

  The touch of elegance came with the pure white three-quarter length wool coat. It was cut to fit the figure - and it fitted Genie's figure so perfectly that it might have been made for her. Nevertheless, she left it undone to suggest casualness.

  She checked herself in the mirror. “That's more like it. I am now me.”

  Fabiana and Violetta were very excited by the final 'product' and to show how much they enjoyed helping Genie recreate her image, they insisted on giving her a pair of black leather gloves, and
a pair of RayBan sunglasses.

  “Now you are complete,” Fabiana said. “A mystery Signorina.”

  “That's me - a mystery.” She inspected herself in the mirror once more. “Cast your eyes on this lot Lorenzo Calderone.”

  Even Domino came in for a minor makeover. Fabiana found a bright red bow tie with yellow spots. She extended the neck strap with a ribbon of a similar shade of red and tied it around the St. Bernard's neck. “Che elegante,” she said, standing back to admire her work.

  While Domino accepted the attention, and even his new neck-adornment, he snuffled in disgust at the ensuing laughter at his expense. To demonstrate his disdain, he turned his back on his tormentors, ambled over to the door and sat down to watch the passers-by.

  As a part of the total experience, Genie took photos of the girls and then posed with one after the other while the 'spare' girl operated the camera.

  The fun over, Genie made ready to go.

  Violetta handed Genie her neatly tied up boxes. All three buzzed each other on each cheek - twice - to emphasize how sad everyone was about parting. Finally, Genie and Domino stepped out into the bright sunshine and the cold snow, ready to blow Lorenzo away.

  She rubbed behind Domino's ears. “Good job you're with me, Dom, old friend,” she said. “I don't have a red rose. Lorenzo'll have to spot you first.”

  The evidence of her shopping spree in one hand and her camera bag in the other, Genie made her way down the street that Fabiana had told her led to the skating rink. Not that she had need of directions. All she had to do was follow the music.

  The street opened onto a vast vista of the ski slopes, full of the continual movement of ski lifts and skiers.

  Spread out before it was the skating rink. It sported a sturdy grandstand at one end, and platforms around two other sides, covered with tables and chairs and a bevy of viewers. A variety of food and drink outlets served their designated 'patches' while experienced and not-so experienced skaters did their thing on the ice. Few of them, as far as Genie could see, skated in time to the beat of the music blaring from speakers mounted on the roof of the grandstand.