“Don’t worry about it, come in, please,” he ushered me inside and cleared a space on a stool near the easel that held my painting. I stared at it and couldn’t help smiling. Sam sat in his armchair and began putting on socks and shoes. “Did you sleep here?” I gestured to the room. “Yes, I spend a night here on the odd occasion, usually when I want some time alone to think.” I nodded and glanced again at my painting. Sam came to stand behind me and pulled the easel closer. He pointed to the fan of the white skirt and the brunette hair that swept wildly behind the girl. “I love the movement here. Your brush strokes are light but determined. It tells me a lot about you. Timid but strong.”
He smiled at me and I felt a blush spread up my neck and cheeks. I moved away from him and approached the wall of pictures behind us. “I’d like your help,” I began. He looked intrigued so I continued. “I’ve never painted like that before. I know I have a lot to learn. I plan to go to art school when I’m back home but there are lots of things I need to learn and practise before I’d feel ready. You seem to bring out a side of me I’ve hidden for many years. Will you help me?” After an awkward pause Sam flashed me a beaming smile. He took my hand and pulled me over to the table beneath the window.
The surface was scattered with pencils, charcoals, and erasers. He opened a sketch pad and placed it in front of me. I sat on a wooden stool and looked up at him expectantly. “You don’t need a teacher, Ana. What you have, I can’t teach. You need to practise being you for a change.” He smiled and nodded at the supplies on the desk. “Go ahead. I’ll be here. I may offer some constructive criticism but ultimately you’ll find your own way.” I picked up the charcoal as he folded himself into his armchair again and picked up a small, A5-sized sketchbook. I’d never used charcoal before, but it was interesting to work with. Without thinking I began to draw.
And that’s how things went for the next few weeks. I’d have breakfast with Nonna every morning then head straight to Sam’s studio and spend all day painting, sketching, and sculpting. Sam would sometimes join me and work on a piece himself. Sometimes he’d sit in his chair all day reading and sometimes he would just watch me, springing up every now and then to offer some advice or encouraging words. Around midday he’d leave on his scooter and return with gorgeous Italian food for lunch. We would sit on the side of the road, overlooking the drop to the sea and chatter casually, as if we had known each other for years. In the late afternoon Sam would drive me back up the hillside and drop me off outside Nonna’s apartment.
Occasionally Nonna would invite him in for dinner but he always declined, saying that his own grandmother would be waiting for him. It was not until the end of our second week of this routine that he graciously accepted her offer. It was very surreal sitting in my grandmother’s tiny kitchen, eating fresh, homemade Italian meals with the two people who had only recently become so important to me. I saw another side to Sam also. He had both of us laughing repeatedly over our glasses of wine and he even humoured my Nonna’s wild and eccentric nature by dancing with her around the kitchen.
Late into the night he announced that he had to leave. Nonna kissed his cheeks and left me to show him out. I walked him down the path and held the gate open for him to pass. Before he left he paused in the gateway. I smiled up at him and bid him goodnight. He stared at me seriously but a spark in his eyes showed his happiness. The corner of his mouth curled into a smile and he bent his head and gave me a gentle peck on the cheek. “Buona notte, Anabella.” I walked back up to my room with a little spring in my step.
* * *
Sam wanted me to meet him at the marina the next morning. I figured he wanted us to practise some landscapes of the bay or to get ideas for another painting. As I stood on the dock, two coffees in hand, I heard someone yell my name in the distance over the water. A small fishing boat was coming into the marina. It slowly pulled alongside the dock, Sam’s windswept hair visible in the back of the boat. His head popped up and he grinned at me like a Cheshire cat, carefree and happy, he docked the boat and hopped out in front of me.
“What’s this?” I passed him a coffee and he sipped it gratefully. “I had to take the boat out this morning for my uncle, he needed help fishing.” An older Italian man with a weathered face and salt and pepper hair hopped off the deck onto the dock. He approached me and took my hands in his. He had the same striking green eyes as Sam and he fussed over me in Italian while kissing my cheeks repeatedly. Sam waved him away and he wandered off down the dock back toward the town. I gave him a questioning look. “We have the boat for the rest of the day. You’re coming out on the water with me.” He beamed and gestured to take my hand. “What about my practice? I’m halfway through a painting.” He chuckled to himself and pulled me toward the deck of the boat. “You’ve practised every day for two weeks straight. Art needs inspiration, Ana. You can’t have inspiration without living once in a while. It’s time for a break. Come.”
I settled down on the deck while Sam disappeared to the back of the boat. After a rumble of the motor we eased out into the open water. We gently churned along the coastline for a while, passing sheer cliffs of greenery, until we reached a small bay. There were no other boats in sight and the water was a clear turquoise blue. Sam cut the engine and dropped the anchor. I stood on the deck and took in the beautiful scenery. The sudden sound of running feet against the wooden roof, followed by a loud splash into the water, made me turn around quickly and run to the side of the boat.
Sam appeared amidst the wide ripples and bubbles at the ocean surface, laughing and waving. “Come on! Jump in,” he yelled. I couldn’t help laughing but was suddenly very aware that I had no change of clothes and no bathing suit with me. “I have no swimsuit with me,” I yelled back at him. He rolled his eyes dramatically, “I promise I won’t look. Come on!” I hesitated for a minute but as he turned his back on me and began swimming further into the bay I kicked off my sandals, tore off my shirt and shorts, and dived off the edge of the deck before I had more time to think about it.
The water was cool and refreshing, heated slightly by the overhead sun. I swam toward Sam, quickly catching him up and he splashed me as I approached. We laughed and fought in the water, taking it in turns to dive beneath the surface and see how far down we could swim. We raced each other back to the boat. Sam told me to wait as he climbed the ladders on the side and grabbed two snorkelling masks from a box on the deck. He threw one down to me and I pulled it on.
The underwater paradise I encountered as I snorkelled along the coast was unimaginable. Different types of fish swam leisurely in my path, their colours appearing much more vibrant in the water than if they were caught on land, until I got too close and they darted in the opposite direction. Sam swam alongside me, gesturing every now and then for us to change direction in case we came too close to the base of the cliffs. After what felt like a lifetime we swam back to the boat and he pulled me out of the water. He turned his back on me almost shyly and I realised my white bra had gone see-through.
Covering my chest quickly I took the large white t-shirt he held out to me and pulled it over my head. He disappeared below deck and returned with a chilled bottle of wine and a selection of meats, cheeses, and antipasto in a basket, two glass stems held between his fingers. I took the wine glasses from his hands and eagerly poured us two glasses. We relaxed on the deck and talked animatedly about the ocean and the fish, about my Nonna and Sam’s uncle, and about the work we had done over the past two weeks. “You’ve come so far, you’re a completely different woman to the one I met almost three weeks ago.”
“And it’s all thanks to you. I can’t thank you enough.” I held my glass out to him and he clinked his against mine. “You did that on your own, Ana, I just gave you the freedom to do it.” We stared at each other for a few moments until a strong breeze that rocked the boat caught my attention. Dark clouds in the distance were approaching and the tide of the sea was moving faster. “We had better go…a storm’s on the way.” Sam pulled me to
standing position and led me toward the back of the boat. “You can help me drive it back.”
He placed my hands either side of the wheel and stood behind me, I beamed up at him and laughed as he started the motors. The wind whipped my hair around my face as the boat chugged along toward the marina. I felt Sam’s firm chest pressed against my back, hands over mine on the wheel, a gust of breath near my ear told me he was looking down at me and smiling. Back at the marina he tied up the boat and walked us to the road where his scooter sat. I hopped on the back and to my surprise he drove me straight to Nonna’s. It was too early for dinner and I had been hoping to spend the rest of the afternoon with him.
When we pulled up at the gate I expected him to park up and leave the scooter, but he stayed at the side of the road and leaned against the seat, arms folded across his chest. I handed him back his t-shirt but he waved it away and told me to hold on to it. “I have to work tomorrow, my uncle needs my help. You’re free to use the studio if you feel like it.” He looked down at me like he was trying to decide something and again I fidgeted with his t-shirt, winding it around my fingers and staring anywhere but into his green eyes.
“Ana?” He took a step closer to me and I was forced to look up at him. He glanced up at the apartment and I followed his gaze to the terrazza. Nobody was there. When I looked back at him in an instant I saw resolve form in his eyes and he bent his head slowly and brought his lips to mine. His fingers wound into my hair and I pressed myself against him. He smiled against my mouth as I kissed him back. I’m not sure what happened next. One moment I was enjoying the feeling of his lips on mine, the next my heart was thudding hard against my rib cage and I was overcome by a swell of emotion.
I hadn’t experienced that feeling before with anyone, the feeling that I was letting him in. I had spent too many years shielding my heart from men I did not trust, had I let my guard down with Sam? My subconscious answered the question for me instantly. I hadn’t let my guard down with him, he had charged in with his sexy smile, his kind heart, and his knowledge about all the things I loved and practically demolished it. The feeling was foreign to me, and the fear of our unknown future made me freeze. I staggered backward away from him and wrapped my hands protectively around myself.
I saw my actions reflected in the concern on his face. “Ana? What’s wrong?” I shook my head and took a step towards the apartment. “N-nothing…I wasn’t expecting…I didn’t think…” A flush of embarrassment stained his cheeks and he ran a hand through his hair nervously. “I thought you felt the same way? Um…I shouldn’t have presumed…forgive me.” I began to protest, to tell him it was me not him, but he turned around quickly, mounted his scooter, and kicked off down the hill before I could form my sentence.
Chapter 5
I ran up the apartment stairs, taking the steps two at a time, and met Nonna coming out of the kitchen. She was wearing an apron and had powdered sugar here and there on her black camisole. With one look at my wide eyes and alarmed expression she grabbed my shoulders and pushed me down into a dining chair. “What has happened, Ana?” I bit my lip and bounced my knee up and down ignoring her. I couldn’t believe he had kissed me. I had wanted him to, there was no doubt about that, but I didn’t think he had felt that way. Why did I push him away? I could answer that right away. I was scared. “Sam kissed me.”
“Was it that bad?” She laughed. I couldn’t help a small smile and I took Nonna’s hand. “I always forget how innocent you are, Ana. You never really had the freedom most teenagers have. You were always trying to impress your father.” If only you knew, I thought. “I pushed him away.” I looked down at my twisting hands. Nonna flashed me a confused frown, “You don’t like him?” I thought back over our weeks together, my eyebrows knotting in thought. “I do like him. I like him a lot.”
“Well that is everything then.” She stood with a slap of her knee and walked to the window. She removed a large ceramic bowl from the window ledge and peeled off the plastic wrapping that covered the top. Taking two spoons she began scooping out small balls of dough and dropping them into a large pan of oil on the stove. It smelt amazing. “But what if I invest too much into this and it ends? He doesn’t know when he might go back to England…I might never see him again.”
Nonna smiled wistfully to herself as she turned over the dough balls sizzling in the oil. “Non tutte le ciambelle riescono col buco”. I poured myself some juice from a jug on the table and frowned. “What have donuts got to do with it?” She laughed loudly and shook her head. “It means things don’t always turn out as planned. But that doesn’t mean it’s not great. Go to him, Tesoro. It is only….how do you say….amore giovanile….after all.” It was my turn to laugh. “I don’t think that applies at the age of twenty-three, Nonna”.
Nonna removed a few zeppole from the oil and lay them on kitchen roll before smothering them in the powdered sugar. She placed them on a tissue and a small plate and handed it to me. As I popped one into my mouth, savouring the doughy sweet treat, I wandered out onto the terrazza and overlooked the town below. The wind had picked up and the sky had darkened with heavy rain clouds. I finished my zeppole as the first raindrops began hitting the tiled floor. Needing time to myself to think I forwent sitting with Nonna in the living area and flopped onto my bed, an arm covering my face, wondering what to do next.
After a few hours Nonna stuck her head around the door and announced dinner was ready. I shook my head and told her I was too tired and just wanted to sleep instead. She tutted and was not amused but eventually left me to my reverie, murmuring about how I was wasting away before her eyes. The slight rattle of shutters at my window signalled the worsening of the storm. The early evening looked more like the dead of night but I struggled to drift off into sleep. Sam had told me he was planning on returning to the UK but he didn’t know when.
Anything we had here would probably be a brief holiday romance that would cease to exist as soon as I stepped foot off Italian soil. I didn’t even know if I could allow myself to pursue it. I wondered why I couldn’t let myself go to him, and deep down a small voice answered me. It was because my father would not approve. That little voice was all I needed to scramble up out of bed. I threw on the closest thing to me, a white cotton sundress, and shoved my feet into my converse.
* * *
The apartment had gone quiet and poking my head into the hallway the darkness clung to my corneas forcing me to blink repeatedly to regain some sight. No light came from Nonna’s doorway and I could just make out the soft sighs of her sleeping over the drumming of rain outside. I tiptoed down to the front door and stood out under the awning staring into the night. It was warm and the air was heavy with humidity but the rain hammered down in sheets, flooding the streets. I couldn’t risk going back inside to hunt for an umbrella in case I woke Nonna.
Without a second thought I ran out into the storm and bolted down the street. Within seconds my hair was stuck in twisted tendrils around my face and neck and my dress was plastered to my skin, but I kept running. I sprinted down the hill, through the town then down the main road toward the coastline. The studio building stood out black like a shadow against the background of the thunderous ocean. As I approached I noticed the flickering of light shining out from under the door. I knocked hard and fast, desperate to get out of the rain.
The door swung open and I flew past Sam and into the centre of the room. The warmth of a crackling fire in the grate immediately hit me. “What the hell are you doing?” Sam rushed to my side and hurried me over to the fireplace. He pulled a towel from a small hamper near the hearth and pushed it into my arms. I ignored it. “Ana, you’re soaking! Do you know how dangerous it is to come out in a storm?” He snatched the towel out of my hand and placed it around my head to towel dry my hair. “What are you doing here? It’s getting late.” He seemed uncomfortable, shocked by my sudden appearance, and perhaps still a little embarrassed about my rejection earlier that afternoon. “I wanted to talk about that kiss.” He sighe
d and turned me around to towel dry the back of my hair. “I know I shouldn’t have. You’ve trusted me implicitly over the past couple of weeks and I took advantage of that today. I got caught up in the happiness of a good day. I’m sorry.”
“I’m not,” I whispered. He stopped towel drying my hair as my words registered and let the towel fall to my shoulders. I could feel the heat of his skin close to my bare, cold back and I leaned into him. He took a deep breath and moved closer, dropping the towel to the floor his front was flush with my shoulders. His long, elegant fingers traced the curve of my neck and moved to the base of my throat, twisting at a stray strand of damp hair and tucking it behind my ear. My breath halted and my head fell to one side. I looked up into his wide eyes and I was frozen. He was looking down at me with no little heat, mouth parted slightly and hand pressed gently to my cheek. His tongue darted out briefly to wet his bottom lip and my eyes focused on his mouth. Before I knew it I had twisted in his arms and was pressing my chest to his. My mouth found his and I kissed him eagerly. He remained still at first, wary, and controlled after my reaction earlier that afternoon, but I wanted more. My hands twisted in his hair and a pleasing groan escaped him. I took advantage of his open mouth and tentatively met my tongue with his.
My skin burst with heat as his hands moved from my hair and down my body, pulling me hard against him and stroking the bare skin across my back. My breathing sped and hitched and he paused his hands and pulled back to look at me. “Ana, you’re soaking wet, I need to get you warm and dry.” I looked down at my sundress. It was still plastered to my front and I suddenly realised it was translucent from the rain. I watched Sam’s eyes stray to my chest and the evidence of both the cold and my arousal. He stepped back and averted his eyes. I raised my hand to the buttons at my chest and quickly began to undo them. His hand was over mine before I had finished with the second button.
My Heart Lies in Pisciotta Page 4