But then they were called for La Tarantella, a crazy dance that involved everyone, and Kate could only concentrate on keeping her feet as the tempo got faster and faster until they were all racing around the dance floor and almost crying with laughter.
Then the music faded, and the announcement came requesting everyone take their seats for the speeches. Kate was relieved to be with Alessandro again, a place of honour at the family table afforded her by Lucetta, which earned her glares from Maria and Orazia. If only Maria’s husband, Donato, hadn’t been sitting so close and studying Kate quite so thoroughly, the moment would have been perfect.
Gian’s father spoke, followed by Alessandro himself. Kate picked up the odd word but struggled to follow their rapid speech. So eventually she gave up trying to understand and indulged in a bit of people-watching. Her gaze settled on Donato and, thank goodness, he was engaged in a very low conversation with Maria and Orazia, seeming to have lost interest in Kate now, which suited her just fine, though she did have to wonder if she had featured in their discussion.
As Alessandro’s speech drew to a close, someone shouted: ‘Evviva gli sposi!’ at which there was a rapturous round of applause, echoes of the sentiment and much cheering. Alessandro made his way back to Kate’s side as Gian stood to speak.
‘I will translate for you,’ Alessandro said in a low voice as he sat down.
Kate smiled. ‘That would be good.’
‘The first moment I saw my angel, Lucetta, I was in love. God had sent her from heaven for me. . .’ Alessandro began, speaking quickly into Gian’s pauses. ‘Today I am the happiest man on the whole of the Earth. I pray to God I can give her everything she desires and I will be a good husband, so that when we are old she will be glad she chooses to marry me. . .’
Gian turned to Lucetta, took her by the hand and led her to stand. She smiled, looking more self-conscious than Kate had ever seen her as he began to address her personally.
‘My love, Lucetta, my strength is your strength,’ Alessandro began. ‘My breath is your breath. My heart is your heart. My world is your world. My happiness is your happiness. Everything of me is yours. . .’ Kate was breathless as Alessandro spoke, echoing Gian’s speech, but looking at Kate so intently that she almost imagined they were his own words, meant for her. ‘Take me and make me yours, for I will never again be happy unless I am by your side.’
Hastily wiping away a tear, Kate looked up to see Lucetta do the same, and many others around the room blow quietly into handkerchiefs. And then Gian kissed Lucetta and beckoned her to sit with him as another shout of ‘Evviva gli sposi!’ went up and another round of cheering and applause rippled through the room.
‘Long live the newlyweds,’ Alessandro translated, catching another of Kate’s tears with a thumb. ‘Perhaps one day people will say it to us.’
Gian’s speech was followed by a short blessing of the meal, and then liquors were served, sweet and spicy and much stronger than Kate had expected. Dinner began, course after course, starting with antipasti of stuffed mushrooms, olives, pickled peppers and artichokes, calamari, prosciutto and many other delicacies that Kate didn’t even recognise. Then followed more courses including broth, pasta, salads, more meat, more pasta, more broth, fruit – champagnes and wines flowing in between them all – until Kate’s groaning stomach was practically begging for mercy and she was desperate for an hour somewhere private to unzip her dress and let it all hang out. And there were still many desserts to get through, along with what Alessandro called wanda, twists of fried, sugared dough that were traditional and meant to be a symbol of good tidings for the couple.
The air was fragrant with herbs and spices, alive with sparkling conversation and warm with the heat of bodies and good humour. Gian was slightly more flushed every time Kate looked at him, though Lucetta looked rather less affected by her alcohol intake, and Alessandro joked that he would be asleep by eleven rather than attending to his wedding night duties. The drink affected Kate too, and she giggled uncontrollably at jokes she might not have found quite so funny in the sober light of day.
At eleven thirty, as the last of the food was being cleared from the tables, Maria approached them, her youngest child slung across a shoulder, sleeping soundly despite the music that was now playing again. She announced to Alessandro that she was taking her brood home, and that she wouldn’t be coming back. Kate was relieved to see that Orazia hovered behind them. Presumably, she was leaving with Maria and her family, as she had been their guest all day and would have nobody in particular to keep her company once they left. Then Maria confirmed as much – or at least, that was as much as Kate picked up as she spoke in her native tongue – but before they went, Orazia stepped forward and pulled Alessandro to one side, speaking so rapidly that Kate couldn’t hear what they were saying. Nor could she even try to lip-read the odd word. Orazia looked agitated, though Alessandro didn’t rise to it, and the more she seemed to lose her temper, the calmer he appeared to become. He shook his head solemnly, and again at a new question, Orazia’s tone rising with vexation. And then he took her squarely by the shoulders and kissed her on the cheek.
‘No,’ Kate heard him say emphatically, and then he walked away.
Orazia folded her arms tight across her chest and looked for a moment as if she would call him back, but then she simply glanced at Maria instead, who was urging her family out of the tent.
‘What was that about?’ Kate asked as they watched them leave. She had vowed earlier not to ask, to trust that he would tell her if she needed to know, and to respect his judgement if he decided she didn’t. But the drink had loosened her tongue and her curiosity, not to mention rousing the green-eyed monster that lurked in the dark places of her heart.
‘Police business,’ Alessandro said lightly, and Kate raised her eyebrows.
‘Police business? Here? Right now?’
‘She is worried.’
‘Still. . . there’s a time and a place. I would have waited to speak to you about it when it wasn’t your sister’s wedding.’
‘But you are not Orazia,’ he said with a faint smile.
‘Is it a case? Something she needs help with working out? Is she worried about a victim?’
‘No,’ Alessandro said flatly. Kate waited, but there was no elaboration. Whatever it was, he had made it clear it wasn’t up for discussion.
‘But you kissed her,’ Kate said stubbornly. She sounded like a petulant child, and she knew it, but she couldn’t help it.
‘Yes,’ Alessandro said. ‘She is my old friend.’
Kate opened her mouth. What she wanted to say was: After all she’s done? But, of course, Alessandro didn’t know half of what Orazia had done to get between them, and it probably wasn’t the time to tell him – in her tipsy state it would come out all wrong and she’d end up sounding like the bunny boiler. No, as muddled as her thoughts were now, even she could see that it was better to take the moral high ground as far as Orazia’s misdemeanours were concerned.
Alessandro seemed to recognise some internal struggle on her face, because he cupped it in his hands and planted a gentle, lingering kiss on her lips. He tasted sweet, like the pudding wine they’d had somewhere around the tenth course, his skin warm and fragrant.
‘See the difference?’ he asked with a faint smile as he pulled away to gaze at her. ‘I did not kiss Orazia like this.’
‘You kissed her like that once. . . before me.’
‘Never like that, even before you,’ he replied, his patience unfaltering. ‘She has always been my friend and that will not change, but you are my love.’
It was all Kate needed to hear. She smiled and melted into his embrace, lost in a place that felt like home. They stood, locked together, and she was happy. In his arms, everything, no matter how wrong it had looked before, was right.
A deafening crack made them leap apart, a sound like squealing metal on metal. Kate’s head whipped round to see that while they’d been busy someone, from somewhere, had w
heeled in a loud speaker. Lucetta and Gian were fiddling with a music dock like overexcited children, and what had at first appeared to be the sounds of war was actually the opening riff of a heavy-metal song. Then the newlyweds grinned at each other, and the graceful classical music of the night was replaced by a thudding drumbeat and squealing guitars. Lucetta and Gian dived for the dance floor, hand in hand, while the older of the remaining guests looked on in horror, covering up their ears, and the younger ones rushed exuberantly to join in the new wave of dancing.
Signora Conti was sitting a few seats away. She clasped her hands to her chest, as if praying for strength, while Alessandro threw back his head and roared with laughter.
‘Lucetta told Mamma she would have some heavy metal at the wedding!’ he shouted to Kate above the music. ‘Mamma said no, but Lucetta has never listened to Mamma and why should she listen on her wedding day when she no longer belongs to Mamma?’
Kate looked at the dance floor, where now perhaps twenty people had joined Lucetta and Gian in a crazy mosh dance that was a world away from what they’d had so far that night. Lucetta’s wild streak was a mile wide, and Alessandro was right – why pretend to be someone you’re not? If she wanted to head-bang in her wedding dress, why not? And at least she had waited until the night was almost over, so if people wanted to leave now, they could do so without appearing rude, while Lucetta would presumably continue to party until she dropped.
‘I want to dance!’ Kate shouted, suddenly feeling reckless herself. She grabbed Alessandro by the hand and pulled him onto the dance floor while he protested. But he followed her anyway, and they began to bounce up and down together, laughing like loons, lost in the pure joy of the moment. This, right now, was what life was about. There would be things to fear, things to worry about, things to mourn, things to hope for, but they could wait. Tonight was about celebration, about Lucetta and Gian, and Kate couldn’t think of a better way to honour their union than acknowledging the fantastic, crazy, unique people they were.
Chapter Four
Kate slept until late the next afternoon and woke to see Alessandro’s side of the bed empty. Groggily, through the thick fog of her hangover, she wondered where he’d gone. But she could smell coffee, and hear the sound of steel clanking against china in the kitchen, and shortly afterwards he entered the room with a tray containing two cups. She pushed herself up and rubbed her eyes.
‘I saw you were beginning to wake,’ he said, putting the tray down before sitting next to her on the bed and handing her one of the cups.
‘That must have been a pretty sight,’ she replied, the warmth of the cup spreading through her fingers as she wrapped them around it and inhaled the richness of the brew inside. ‘But thank you.’
Alessandro hopped back into bed.
‘I could get used to these lazy days,’ Kate said, snuggling into Alessandro’s arms, the sun outside already beginning to sink below the rooftops of the city, despite the fact they had barely ventured out of bed yet. ‘Do you absolutely have to have a job? Can’t we just do this every day?’
‘We would be very poor.’
‘Poor and happy. Sounds good to me.’
‘It would be a good dream.’
‘It would.’ She closed her eyes. ‘I’m going to run that one through my head for a moment. You entertain yourself while I do that.’
She felt his lips on hers and opened her eyes to see that he was looking down at her with a grin.
‘But not that,’ she said. ‘I swear I’ll be worn away to nothing.’
‘Perhaps I shall save it for when we are married.’
‘What? Make me wait? I’ll die!’
‘Then we will marry quickly and you will not need to wait.’
‘I think I need to get a job first,’ she said, serious now. ‘We couldn’t afford so much as an olive in a dish right now, and we have a lot to compete with if Lucetta’s wedding is the norm around here.’
‘It was a wonderful day,’ he agreed, clearly deciding that the question of their possible marriage was one he would drop for now. She loved that he respected her reticence to commit, knowing as he did how her past with Matt had scarred her, no matter how much she tried not to let it, and how careful she would be in the future. Falling in love with Alessandro was one thing, but promising a life together, that was something else entirely, and something that could not be so easily undone if it all went wrong. One divorce in her life was enough.
‘Lucetta looked so happy. Gian too. And your family are so lovely. I especially liked your uncle Marco.’
‘He is a good man.’
‘Yes. I didn’t quite know what to make of him at first, but I like him a lot now. . . I never saw him with anyone yesterday. I mean, a wife or children or anything. Doesn’t he have anyone?’
‘He is divorced,’ Alessandro said. He let out a low sigh. Kate sensed some kind of significant truth was coming, and she waited as he paused. ‘It is a surprise to you? Mamma does not like to speak of it.’
‘Does it really matter that much? People get divorced, even here; there’s no stigma like there used to be. I mean, I’m divorced—’
‘Mamma does not know that yet,’ he reminded her, and Kate wondered silently – and not for the first time – whether they would ever find the right moment to tell her, or whether Kate would have to keep that secret forever. ‘And divorce matters to Mamma a great deal. She sees shame, she does not like it.’
‘Did he end the marriage or did his wife?’ she asked.
‘She did. . . I should tell you, his wife was named Michelle.’
Kate frowned. ‘She was English?’
He nodded. ‘I am sorry I did not tell you this before because you will see that it matters to us too. But I wanted to respect my mother, who does not like to speak of it and does not like us to speak of it either. Marco was married to Michelle for ten years. She became sad in Italy, and she wanted to go home. Marco did not want to leave Italy. They could not agree. Michelle went home and she never returned, so they divorced. The little children went to live with her. My grandmother was heartbroken because she could not see her grandchildren every day. Sometimes she would not see them for a whole year because Michelle did not have the money or time to bring them, and when she did she argued with everyone in the family, who wanted her to return them to Italy, because it was their home. They were sad times and the children did not enjoy their visits. Soon, they did not want to come at all, and when they were old enough to decide for themselves, they stopped. Do you see now why Mamma is so afraid for us?’
Everything slotted into place, this new revelation like a huge heavy boulder rolling over the mouth of a cave and blocking out the sun. It was no wonder Signora Conti didn’t trust Kate. ‘But I wouldn’t ever do something like that,’ she said, knowing even as she did that it was an empty promise. Who could say what would happen in five, ten, even twenty years? Who could know what might come to change everything? She would mean to stay with Alessandro forever, but nobody could ever promise forever with any certainty, no matter what they meant at the time. And as for Marco’s children, they were Italian but they were English too, and she couldn’t help but have some measure of sympathy for a harangued Michelle who must have felt that they needed to discover their English roots and family just as much as they needed to keep in touch with their Italian ones. There was just no right or wrong in a situation like that, and someone was always going to be unhappy with the arrangements.
‘Mamma has your words, but for her they are not enough. I trust you, but Mamma. . . she likes you, but she is convinced that one day you will go home, just like Michelle, and I will be left like Marco, my children living far away and me standing alone at weddings.’
Kate was silent for a moment. It was difficult to see what would change Signora Conti’s mind, apart from time. And right now Kate’s position probably looked more perilous than ever – she didn’t even have a job yet. With no money coming in and bills piling up, most people would run for h
ome. The only thing for it was to get some traction in her bid to get settled and show Alessandro’s mother that she was here to stay.
‘We can make this work,’ she said finally. ‘I know it’s going to be hard, but we can convince your mother that we’re not Michelle and Marco. I don’t know how yet, but I’ll think of something.’
He leaned to kiss her. ‘That is why I love you; you are not afraid of anything, even when you think you are.’
‘I wish that was true,’ she said with a wry smile. ‘I was terrified about moving here and I very nearly didn’t.’
‘But you did, and that is because you were brave.’
‘I must have been to take you on.’
‘I must go to see Mamma,’ he replied, laughing as he disentangled himself from her and sat up.
‘You’re worried about her?’
‘A little.’
‘Do you want me to come?’
He paused for a moment. ‘You have many things to do, and I will be ready to go much quicker alone.’
‘All those things can wait. And are you insinuating that I’m high maintenance?’
He frowned as he reached for a shirt from the back of a nearby chair. ‘What does that mean?’
‘You think I take a long time to get ready and I take a lot of looking after?’
‘Yes,’ he said, and Kate threw a pillow at him.
‘Rude,’ she said with a smile. He swivelled to kiss her.
A Wedding in Italy: A feel good summer holiday romance (From Italy with Love Book 2) Page 7