Chapter 36
36
After the violence of the midday storm, the lake was tranquil in the evening, reflecting fading sunlight with a lingering shimmer of warmth. The aquamarine water near the shore at Limone was cool and still and the rock faces ranging over the town radiated the heat of the day.
The bedraggled wedding party had arrived back at the hotel for two hours’ well-earned rest before the reception – and to wash off the mud. After checking Lucia’s wound once more and leaving her with fresh dressings, Andreas had pressed a quick kiss to Sophie’s lips and left with Kira, in something of a hurry.
He probably wanted to escape before the men got their suits on. If he’d stayed even a minute longer, Sophie might have asked him if he’d come along despite his objections, but she didn’t want to shove him straight out of his comfort zone when he’d only just got up the courage to tell her how he felt. She would miss him, though.
It was only a short walk to the reception venue, but Sophie was glad she’d arranged for the minibus to transport the heavy-footed wedding party that evening. The ancient streets of the old town meant that the minibus could only take them partway anyway and they disembarked at a cobbled intersection of narrow lanes, surrounded by buildings with wooden shutters and balconies bursting with plants.
Sophie led the group along one of the lanes, past rough stone houses with begonias on the windowsills, to a rock wall covered in vines. She was glad her favourite silver sandals with chunky heels were comfortable as she took the uneven staircase up to the entrance of the museum and function rooms. The stairs gave them a gradual view of the town that was tucked between the vast lake and sheer rockfaces. The church of San Benedetto with its domed belltower rising above the speckled terracotta rooftiles, as well as the palm trees dotted along the waterfront, made it easy to forget this wasn’t a beach resort on the Mediterranean, but a mountain lake in the alpine foothills.
The venue was a historic citrus grove where lemons, oranges, grapefruit and mandarins were cultivated at one of the northernmost latitudes in the world. Sophie greeted Marcella, the manager, and introduced Lily and Roman, then she stepped back and enjoyed the fruits of her labour. After the wedding party had spent the day in outdoor gear and boots, it made Sophie smile to see Lily in her red wraparound dress, a fresh wreath of flowers in her hair. Roman wore a pale-blue suit and a pair of white sneakers, dressy enough to be special, but comfortable enough to be himself.
Marcella showed them through the stone building and out onto the highest terrace, where bushy lemon and orange trees with shiny, dark leaves grew under a wooden frame that was open for the summer. The sweet-bitter scent of unripe fruit pervaded the fresh evening air.
The photographer snapped candid shots of the family laughing, of Roman pressing a kiss to the backs of Lily’s fingers and the bridesmaids smiling and looking chic in colourful dresses that didn’t match, but added to the celebratory mood – all with the backdrop of the lake and the cliffs extending above them.
Soft instrumental music played through hidden speakers – not a live quartet for the sake of space and budget, but soothing, nonetheless. A waiter appeared with a trolley of glasses and several bottles of prosecco as an aperitivo and Sophie stepped in to make sure Lily’s glass was discreetly filled with non-alcoholic apple spritzer instead.
As dusk fell over the lake, they moved inside for dinner. Two long tables had been set up on the top floor of the museum in the middle of the terrace, decked with white tablecloths and sprinkled with flowers. On a small table in the corner stood the tiered millefoglie wedding cake, piled with cream and late-summer berries.
The cake would be delicious, but she couldn’t help thinking it couldn’t be as delicious as the piece she’d shared with Andreas back at the apartment the day she’d photographed him with a wreath of flowers on his head and a signature Hinterdorfer frown.
In Sophie’s experience, wedding meals were often either forgotten in the whirlwind of the party or became the main focus – sometimes in a negative way – but, as with everything else that day, the tagliatelle al salmone and the sliced beef tagliata with olive-oil potatoes suited the occasion perfectly. The guests had a hearty appetite and the simple, fresh flavours in the rustic lemon grove created the intimate atmosphere Lily and Roman had wanted.
Sophie took a seat on the corner of one of the tables. She didn’t always join in with the wedding meal, but Lily had insisted it would feel stranger if she disappeared inside to eat with Marcella and it wasn’t the first time Sophie’s dual role as wedding planner and tour guide had blurred the expectations of her job.
There were no speeches, just a delicious meal with a view of the lake, the clatter and clink of cutlery and glasses and the easy conversation of close friends and family.
After the main course, Lily and Roman opened the dancing on the floor below and the guests who didn’t want to dance spread out along the terrace to talk. Sophie found a space by herself for a moment, leaning on the low wall and staring out at the water that was misting as the temperature dropped.
She couldn’t help imagining Andreas at her back, his touch relaxing her body the way the view of the lake in the dimming light soothed her mind.
‘Do a toast with me.’ Lily appeared by her side, holding out a glass of prosecco.
Sophie mustered a smile for the bride as she took the glass. ‘It’s been an absolute joy, Lily. And you were right, your wishes were very unusual, even for me, but that’s made today even more special.’
‘It’s not over yet,’ she replied with a smile, holding up her glass. ‘To love?’
‘To love,’ Sophie responded with an amused smile.
In her peripheral vision, Sophie noticed a figure filling the doorway and turned, expecting Marcella needing her help, but it wasn’t the venue manager. She stilled, blinking away disbelief as her heart pounded an erratic rhythm.
Pausing to scan the courtyard, he rubbed the back of his neck as he searched the group – for her, without a doubt. As a giddy smile stretched on her lips, she took in the golden-brown hair that had grown too long again, the silver hoop in his ear, the leather braid around his wrist. Those were features she knew and loved, but she’d never seen him looking quite the way he did just then.
He wasn’t wearing a suit, but his party outfit was still a long way off his usual technical outdoor wear. A pair of buttery-soft, embroidered leather shorts extended to just above his knees and were a touch snug. Grey, chucky-knit socks with a band of green wool around the top were pulled halfway up his calves, and disappeared into a pair of rustic, brown leather shoes with the laces to one side. Instead of the leather suspenders she might have expected, he wore a grey felt waistcoat with buttons, the rough white shirt underneath rolled up to his elbows.
Sophie had no idea how he’d procured Tyrolean traditional dress at short notice, but she was immensely glad he had. She stifled a laugh – of amusement, but also of delight that he was here.
Lily followed her gaze and grinned. ‘Ah, finally. He said he might be a little late, but I was starting to worry.’
‘You knew he was coming?’
‘He asked me if it would be all right to come after dinner. But what is he wearing?’
‘Lederhosen,’ Sophie said with a giggle.
Kira appeared behind him, looking uncomfortable in a sundress she’d probably picked up from one of the shops along the waterfront.
Still studying him from head to toe, Sophie put him out of his misery by stepping out from behind Lily and raising her hand in a wave. His expression when he caught sight of her – relief, pride and a wide smile of happiness – made her knees wobble.
He approached and caught her around the waist, dipping his head to kiss her and then coming to a halt before he managed it. ‘You have lipstick on,’ he said, as though that fact confused him.
‘A quick kiss won’t rub off on you.’
He mumbled a reply and gave her a peck on the lips. ‘That will have to do for now. But you look lovely.’ Lifting his hand to her hair, he stopped and drew it away again, studying her neat chignon. ‘I’m a little worried about roughing you up.’ But he smiled as his gaze took in the soft folds of her dress and her strappy silver shoes.
‘You can rough me up later,’ she said, grinning. ‘I’m glad you came. I didn’t want to put you under pressure.’
Snatching her hand and threading his fingers with hers, he gazed at the whimsical setting: the lake, the citrus trees and the ancient stone walls. The fairy lights strung along the wooden beams glowed as the sunlight faded. ‘I wanted to come and see what you’ve achieved, and for Lily and Roman. But I also wanted to do this.’
‘Hold my hand?’ she asked doubtfully.
He nodded. ‘And this.’ Curling his other arm around her waist, he adjusted his hold and before Sophie knew what was happening, he was shuffling her along the terrace in a rather decent waltz to the music floating around the lemon grove from the speakers. He swayed with her for a few weightless moments, but she eventually trod on his foot and stumbled, sending them both barrelling into the low wall. ‘You can’t dance?’ he asked in mock outrage.
‘I can’t dance. I did not expect to find out that you could!’
‘I have the “Tiroler Walzer” in my blood – and some embarrassing teenage dance lessons in my past.’
She grinned up at him, smoothing her hand around his waist. ‘A nice pair of Lederhosen and waltzing: you are very well qualified for weddings.’
‘The outfit belongs to my father,’ he said sheepishly. ‘I asked him to bring it down this afternoon and… he’s staying overnight. He wants to meet you.’
‘I want to meet him, but I had other plans for our last night here.’
‘But it’s not our last night together. I’ll come to Bath next week and… can you work remotely sometimes if I’ve got clients here? I’ll get you the internet at my cabin.’
‘That’s real romance,’ Sophie joked. ‘No flowers or jewellery, just an internet connection. Actually, I kind of like it.’
‘Well, no flowers, but I did get you something else as well. The internet connection will take a few weeks – maybe while I’m away in Nepal.’
Rummaging for something in his pocket, he produced a velvet bag and tugged on the drawstring.
Grasping her hand, he draped a fine silver chain around her wrist, fumbling with the tiny clasp. It was simple and elegant, two small, clear stones in silver settings the only added decoration. He brushed his fingers over her wrist.
‘The day after we kissed – in the apartment, back in June,’ he began haltingly, ‘you were wearing a particular top and I kept thinking how lovely your wrists were and how I wanted to give you a bracelet.’
Her brows flew up. ‘I thought you were just grumpy.’
‘You were right next to me and I thought there was no way in the world you would want this – me.’ His smile was pained as he ran his fingers up her arm. ‘The stones in the bracelet are rock crystal – we call it Bergkristall in German: mountain crystals. To remind you that you do like to climb mountains, although you also look amazing in those shoes.’
‘I do like to climb mountains,’ she admitted, twining her arms around his neck. ‘But thank you for coming into the valley for me.’
‘Always,’ he whispered, pulling her tight to him. ‘I’ll always come back to you.’