‘But I think you’ll find fair.’ Rolling her eyes, Kate jammed the chef’s hat on her head and watched as Jamie did the same. She felt like a prize turnip, but weirdly, she also felt as if some of the seriousness had been lifted from her life, just for a moment. Jamie plugged his iPod into the dock and clicked to start his playlist. A grin spread across his face as the introduction to ‘Jolene’ kicked in, and Kate couldn’t help catching it. The music, the company, the sun slanting into the kitchen, the smells on the air of frying onions, of mustard and sweet ketchup, of crisp celery and fresh carrots, of fragrant mixed herbs. . . little by little they lifted her mood until she felt that her world, just for a moment, was perfect. Outside this bubble, she would have money worries, job fears and secrets that would threaten to tip her life upside down, but here with Jamie all of that seemed a million miles away.
A couple of hours later, Kate’s kitchen looked as if Gordon Ramsay had indeed climbed from Jamie’s shopping bag and proceeded to have a major tantrum with the meatloaf ingredients. Kate glanced across at her sink and wondered how they could have made such a mountain of washing-up in such a short space of time doing a relatively simple task. But the apartment was filled with the homely, heavenly smell of cooking meat and spices, and the dishes could wait because they were enjoying a well-earned glass of wine before they began peeling carrots and shelling peas.
A light tap at the door prompted Kate to look up at the clock and frown. ‘That must be Lucetta to pick us up, but she’s early.’
‘Maybe she’s excited to see us.’
‘More likely she’s come to see if we actually know what we’re doing,’ Kate replied as she put her wine down and went to the front door.
As Kate opened up, Lucetta clapped a hand to her mouth to stifle her laughter. ‘What is this?’ she asked, waving her hands up and down to indicate Kate’s work attire.
‘Don’t ask. You’ll understand when you come and see Jamie in the kitchen.’
Lucetta stepped inside and Kate was about to close the door when Alessandro appeared behind her. As he saw Kate, he broke into one of his special mocking smiles, and Kate felt herself go so hot it seemed as if her whole body was blushing.
‘Very nice,’ he said, nodding at the hat.
‘I thought we were meeting at your place,’ Kate replied, whipping it off and shoving a hand through her hair. ‘We agreed there wasn’t enough room in Lucetta’s car with all the food.’
‘I have come on my Vespa. I wanted to help.’
‘You might regret that when you see the kitchen,’ she replied darkly as he followed her in.
His eyebrows rose slightly, but Kate had to be impressed with his restraint. He simply ran his gaze over the chaos before greeting Jamie warmly. Lucetta had already buried herself in Jamie’s arms, and she was determined not to be moved from there by anyone as she grinned out at Alessandro.
‘Mine!’ she said. ‘Tesoro mio.’
Jamie grinned, his chef hat now sliding to one side as he took Lucetta’s waist and led her in a surprisingly light-footed dance around the kitchen to the strains of ‘Islands in the Stream’.
‘The wine?’ Alessandro said as he shot Kate a knowing look.
‘Only a little,’ she replied with a sheepish smile.
‘Hmm. When Jamie is here only a little wine is always a lot.’
‘He’s never going to change. But we still got the cooking done so that’s a win for the team.’
Alessandro lifted his chin and paused for a moment, deep in thought. ‘It smells good. Like meatballs.’
‘You think your mamma will like it?’
‘Maybe.’
‘You haven’t told her? It’s still a surprise?’
‘We have not told her. She would not rest if she knew Jamie was cooking for her; he is a guest and she would feel she wanted to cook for him.’
‘That’s what I thought, which is why we didn’t want to tell her.’ Kate began to wring her hands, a sign of nerves, a trait that had somehow crept into her personality of late and one that she recognised as coming from her mother. Quite why she was nervous wasn’t entirely apparent. Signora Conti would love the sentiment even if she didn’t love the food, but suddenly it really mattered what she thought of the food too. Would she be angry at being duped out of the chance to take back control of her beloved kitchen at home? Her favourite thing in the world was to feed people and see them enjoy what delights she created. Would she feel pushed out, side-lined, consigned to the scrap heap by what they were doing now? ‘But Jamie was so excited about doing this, so she’d accept it with grace, right?’ Kate asked uncertainly. ‘As a gift from him? And she could cook for him as soon as she was well enough. . . next time he’s in Rome, of course.’
Alessandro took her into his arms and planted a light kiss on her nose. ‘She will show him courtesy no matter what she thinks.’
‘Oh. . . but she might still be angry?’
‘Not angry. Maybe a little offended, but she is soon charmed by Jamie and she will forget.’
‘I hope so.’
‘If you both arrive with your hats she will laugh and forget to be angry or offended.’
Kate gave him a lopsided smile. ‘I suppose we do look a bit silly.’
He lowered his voice. ‘Perhaps. But you also look sexy.’
That blush spread through her again, and this time the heat spread through her loins too. Something about Alessandro and the mere mention of sex never failed to affect her in the exact same way. She cleared her throat and left his arms, very deliberately pushing away the erotic images invading her thoughts.
‘Lots to do,’ she said. ‘Better get cleaned up.’
As she walked to the sink and opened the window as wide as it would go to cool her burning face, she knew that behind her he was wearing that lazy, mocking grin. It was best not to look, just in case.
Maria and her family were curiously absent from lunch, having made some excuse about having to attend a dinner being hosted by her husband’s boss.
Kate couldn’t help but be relieved. Jolanda and her brood were there, though her husband had to work, Isabella came with her children, Lucetta and Gian came, both still on leave from their jobs as they were officially still on honeymoon, and Abelie had taken the afternoon off. Alessandro was on a non-shift day, so all in all there was a good turnout for Jamie’s visit. Signora Conti had fussed and faffed about who was going to cook for him and how they couldn’t receive a guest without a proper lunch, and Alessandro and Lucetta, both in on the secret, had assured her it was all under control and had told her very sternly that she needed to sit down and stop fretting about it immediately or they would be forced to call another ambulance to cart her off. Her reply had been to throw her hands in the air, force out some very theatrical lamentations, and then finally drop into a chair, clasping a hand over her heart. Alessandro had told Kate it was funny, but Kate wasn’t so sure she would have been able to see the joke had she been there.
Signora Conti practically leapt from her invalid chair to greet Jamie as he walked in the door, only for her joy to turn to consternation as he unveiled the lunch he and Kate had prepared. In fact, she stumbled back, looking set to faint, and Alessandro ran to catch her.
‘Santa Maria,’ she murmured.
Kate grabbed a magazine to waft in front of her face as her eyes fluttered. She might have been tempted to say it was an overreaction, but anyone who knew the pride with which Giuditta Conti entertained guests would understand her response to being entertained by guests in her own home. It was all highly irregular, and as Lucetta ushered Kate and Jamie into the kitchen with their goods, Alessandro spoke to his mother in low and earnest tones.
Kate popped her head round the door five minutes later as Jamie and Lucetta got pots on to boil water for the vegetables, and Signora Conti seemed to be more herself again. At least, as much herself as she’d been since Lucetta’s wedding, which wasn’t very much at all.
‘Is she OK?’ Kate whispered as Al
essandro came to the doorway, leaving Jolanda and Isabella with his mother.
He lowered his voice to match hers. ‘I have said that the dish Jamie has brought is a tradition where he comes from and it is made to honour my mother for her kindness when he visited Rome once before. I have told her that she would insult him to refuse it.’
‘And she was OK with that?’
‘I think so.’
‘Then she must be more ill than we thought,’ Kate replied, throwing a guarded glance at the back of Signora Conti’s head. She looked back to see Alessandro watching her intently with a huge smile. ‘What is it?’ she asked, rubbing the end of her nose in case there was something on it.
‘You are funny. You are also very kind. And I have not forgotten about the hat.’
For the third time that day, Kate blushed violently. Before he had a chance to make things worse, she ducked back into the kitchen and the relative safety of Jamie’s company, Alessandro’s chuckling still in her ears.
Once they were all seated around the table, and everyone had helped transfer the food dishes there, Signora Conti claimed control once again. Insisting on carving the meat, she stood, Jamie reaching for the dish to pull it closer for her. What had smelled so good when they were cooking it had now cooled and congealed, and resembled a huge, solid log of glistening meat, sitting in a rather unattractive pool of fat. But Signora Conti smiled graciously at Jamie, clearly recalling the fake tradition that Alessandro had dreamed up to console her, and thinking she was doing a very good and courteous thing even allowing such a culinary monstrosity into her home. Kate, however, was now less convinced. It was quite possible that she and Jamie would wipe out the entire Conti clan between them with one deadly meal. She was just relieved they hadn’t made dessert as well.
As Alessandro’s mother began to carve, the loaf quivered slightly, before giving up any pretence of being a stable body and disintegrating into little globules of meat and vegetables vying for freedom. It was like a weird and fascinating science experiment. Kate threw a helpless glance at Jamie, who seemed unconcerned by the event.
‘Oh, sometimes it does that.’
‘I thought you’d cooked this loads of times!’ Kate hissed.
‘Sure I have,’ came the serene reply. ‘And probably ninety percent of those times it turned out just like this. Tastes OK, though.’
‘It’s OK, Mamma. . .’ Lucetta nodded encouragingly. Just to display how OK it was, she held her plate out for Signora Conti. Fighting a losing battle with a fork and long knife, eventually Abelie ran to the kitchen to get a tablespoon and Signora Conti offered an apologetic look to Jamie as she scooped up the mush instead, clearly wondering if she was insulting his lunch even further by not only making it explode but then serving it with a spoon. Jamie simply smiled brightly.
‘The vegetables are probably better if I’m honest,’ he commented, throwing a fond look at a bowl of carrots.
One of Jolanda’s children started to cry, wailing that they wanted pasta and why did they have to eat prison food. Jolanda slapped his hand, making his cries even louder, only to be silenced by one icy look from Signora Conti, who might have been ill but was still the most terrifying person in the room. Kate wondered about the possibility of some kind of ninja-style escape through the window and a run to the nearest restaurant where she could grab an unsuspecting chef and frogmarch him back to the apartment to cook them something they could actually eat.
An excruciating ten minutes later and everyone had a plate of meat before them. Signora Conti said grace, and then they all watched and waited as she took up her fork and dug it into the meatloaf. Even Jamie looked mildly anxious at this point, realising that he was about to be judged. But to Kate’s relief, as the food went in, she began to smile.
‘Che buono!’
Kate frowned. ‘Really?’ She shot Jamie an apologetic glance. ‘I mean. . . sorry, it’s just that I’m sure my part of the cooking was really terrible. It’s actually probably the reason why it all fell apart—’
‘Oh, clam up!’ Jamie laughed. ‘Who cares what it looks like if Mamma Conti thinks it’s good? Just eat the darned thing!’
Jamie didn’t get everything his own way, and Signora Conti set about making a fruit salad to follow his meal, insisting that it was hardly work at all. There was nothing to do but let her, and the task, following on from her rapidly improving spirits during dinner, seemed to perk her up even more. The room was filled with laughter and gossip, Jamie’s infectious humour and charm impossible to ignore, and almost everyone was a little bit in love with him in one way or another.
When Signora Conti had been discharged from the hospital, Isabella had somehow procured use of a wheelchair, adamant that her mother was to be wheeled around in it at all times until she was strong again. Signora Conti had scoffed, quite determined that it was the most ridiculous idea she’d ever heard and ordered Isabella to get rid of it. But Isabella had refused, and it now sat in the corner of the dining room quietly gathering dust.
‘I’ve got to ask,’ Jamie said as they sipped coffees. ‘I keep looking at that thing in the corner – is it a wheelchair?’
‘Yes,’ Isabella replied, looking sheepish. ‘I found it for Mamma, but—’
‘Mamma would rather crawl on her knees than ride in a wheelchair,’ Jolanda finished for her.
‘Is that so?’ Jamie said, studying the object thoughtfully. ‘What are you going to do with it?’
‘It is a loan, so I will take it back soon,’ Isabella said. ‘I was going to keep it a little longer; maybe Mamma would change her mind and use it to go out on the street.’
‘Hasn’t she been going out at all?’ he asked.
‘We’ve all tried,’ Kate said.
‘Too afraid?’
‘A bit of that, and a bit of stubborn pride too, I think. She can’t walk far right now, but she’d never let the neighbourhood see that. She’s so used to being a little dynamo that this illness has taken the wind right out of her sails in more ways than just physical.’
Jamie leapt from his chair and bounded across the room like an overexcited puppy. Pulling the wheelchair from its forlorn station, he opened it out and patted the seat.
‘Mamma Conti!’ he grinned, looking up at her. ‘A walk after lunch? Fare una passeggiata?’
She shook her head vehemently. ‘No!’
‘Ah, come on.’ Jamie put his hands together like he was praying. ‘Per favore? Vieni con me?’
‘No!’
‘You won’t persuade her,’ Kate said, and everyone murmured agreement. Signora Conti folded her arms tight across her chest and looked so utterly formidable that it almost reduced Kate to laughter.
‘A tough cookie, eh?’ Jamie smiled, regarding his adversary as if weighing her up, trying to find a chink in the armour. ‘Well, we have ways of making you walk. . .’
‘I still can’t believe you got her out,’ Kate said as they shared one last coffee back in her flat before Jamie headed off to his hotel. ‘There is absolutely nobody else on the planet that could have done it – not even her own kids.’
‘What can I say?’ Jamie replied in a lazy voice. ‘I have a way with people. Moms in particular. I don’t know, maybe they think I need to be nurtured or something.’
‘The mummy whisperer,’ Kate laughed. ‘It must be that boyish charm. So what did you do?’
‘What did we do?’
‘When you went out? Where did you take her?’
‘Just walked the block.’
‘And she was happy to sit there while you pushed her around?’
‘Pretty much.’
Kate shook her head slowly. ‘Unbelievable.’
‘She covered her face a couple of times when she saw people she knew, but they came over anyway. By the time they’d all finished telling her how much they’d missed seeing her around and were happy to know that she was getting better, she was like a queen on a walkabout – practically waving to the crowds.’
Kate giggl
ed. ‘I wish I could have seen it.’
‘It was awesome. She’s a local celebrity.’
‘And you came back unscathed. I thought she was going to hit you over the head with her handbag or something when you first wheeled her out. She looked so annoyed that you’d beaten her into submission.’
‘Don’t tell people I’ve beaten her, especially not Alessandro. I have accommodation so I don’t need a night in a jail cell.’
‘I think she’s in love with you. Perhaps you’ll be Alessandro’s new daddy.’
Jamie gave a theatrical shudder. ‘Imagine that. Pretty much ticks off all the elements of my worst nightmares. Married to a woman and a really hot, out-of-bounds dude for a stepson.’
‘Er. . . he is out of bounds!’ Kate cried with mock affront. ‘Hands off, slut!’
‘OK, OK. . . I’ll let you keep him!’ Jamie laughed. ‘Seriously, though, you two are so made for each other. I think Mamma Conti sees it too. In fact, everyone sees it – I think that’s why you’re having so much trouble with Orazia and Maria. They know it – they’re just not ready to admit it yet.’
‘You think?’
‘I know it.’
‘Well, I wish they’d hurry up and get it out of their systems.’
‘Seems to me they already are. Maybe there’s light at the end of the tunnel?’
‘I think we’ve got a long way to go yet, but at least Signora Conti is coming round to the idea. In some ways Alessandro’s mum being ill has been a blessing in disguise because it’s been a good opportunity for me to get to know her.’
‘It helps that you’re awesome too.’
‘I could be as awesome as you like but if Mamma Conti doesn’t approve then I don’t get into the family – simple as that. I’ve still got Maria to contend with too, and she’s taking a lot more convincing. And not getting all the family onside makes life difficult for me and Alessandro.’
‘He would never give you up. And if his sister makes him choose between his family and the love of his life then she’s a bitch of the highest order.’
‘That may be, but it still doesn’t change the fact that family would win every time if he was pushed.’
A Wedding in Italy: A feel good summer holiday romance (From Italy with Love Book 2) Page 13