Chapter Nineteen
It was finally the day of the party and I woke up feeling like a kid on Christmas morning. The vineyard had been gradually transformed and was now dressed in its very best, with ribbons flying from the windows and fairy lights strewn in every direction. It was officially the height of summer and the tourists had been arriving by the busload into San Gimignano and staying in the hotels, instead of draining away at the end of each day. There was a sense of joie de vivre in the air and the town felt alive. I’d been helping Tony and Mia set things up since first light. We’d combined two dining tables into an enormous wine stall and decorated it to blend seamlessly with the green surroundings. Frilly sage tablecloths that hung down to the floor, with olive trees in terracotta pots standing guard at each end. Vines were interwoven and tacked in plaits along the edge of the stand, with tiny bunches of grapes hanging down. My face-painting stall was hitched alongside like a sidecar, with a table, two chairs and my glitter glues, all ready for action.
I’d written FACE-PAINTING in English and Italian on a big piece of card and propped it up on one of Mia’s easels, decorated with fairy lights and purple balloons. I couldn’t wait to sparkle up the kids of San Gimignano – the stall was kind of ramshackle, but I hoped my efforts exuded the intended charm. Holly and Xavier had the stall next to me and were getting ready to sell a couple of authentic Tuscan dishes. Panzanella – a dressed salad of bread, tomatoes, onions and basil, and tagliatelle al tartufo – with garlic, truffle and parmigiano. I’d done a taste test when they’d arrived and both dishes were dangerously delicious. Several other vintners had brought along their variations of Vernaccia and limoncello, and there were stalls with focaccia, smoked cheeses, meats, and homegrown tomatoes – a gastronomic feast of foods to pick and mix among and enjoy, with a glass or two of wine.
Paolo was sat with his leg up on a stool, calling out instructions to Tony and Mia.
‘Yes, Paolo, I know,’ Mia said, in frustration, for the third time.
‘I know you know, but they still aren’t right. The barrels need to lean at forty-five degrees,’ he said, pointing at them with his crutch. ‘For the sediment.’
Tony wrestled barrel after barrel out of the cellar, then stacked them behind the makeshift bar, his muscles working hard as he positioned each one on the back shelf at the correct angle. Mia then followed behind him, fitting each barrel with a small tap.
‘Would you like a glass, Abi?’ Mia asked, testing the taps were working and watching the wine gush out. She nodded in satisfaction.
‘Not just yet, I need to keep a clear head for my face-painting.’ I laughed. ‘I can taste it though, if you need a medieval court jester?’ Mia poured me out a mouthful from each of the barrels and I dutifully tried each one and gave her five lots of thumbs up.
‘SO good,’ I said.
Mia nodded, pleased.
‘This will be our first public trial with the new recipe,’ Tony said. ‘I’m hoping we get a good response.’ He pointed at the two bins in front of the stall. A banner was pinned between them that read: ‘DO YOU LIKE OUR NEW VINTAGE?’ One bin had ‘YES’ painted on it in thick white paint and the other had ‘NO’.
‘Happy to help with the market research,’ I said, dropping my plastic glass in the YES bin. ‘You get my vote, but you already knew that. And if you decide not to sell it to the masses – can you still ship me out a bottle at Christmas? Now that I’m part of the gang?’
‘No problem,’ Tony said, with a smile. ‘Obviously I’ll need your contact details to fulfil the er… delivery. Full name, address, phone number, star sign…’
‘Obviously,’ I replied, feeling my cheeks flush. He was too easy to flirt with.
‘Abi, I wanted to say thank you again for helping us with the Vendemmia this week,’ Paolo said. ‘We were very close to being in trouble there and we couldn’t have done it without you.’
‘I was happy to help,’ I said, pleased to have made a difference. ‘It would be a crime against grapes to miss a year of producing this wine.’
‘Mamma always loved it too,’ Paolo said, holding up a small glass.
‘She was so proud of our vintage,’ Mia agreed. ‘She wanted us to do more with it.’
‘How long until we open the doors?’ Tony asked, breathless from lifting all the barrels.
‘I think we’re nearly ready,’ Paolo said, looking around at the grounds and smiling. ‘Half an hour?’ The stalls were all set up in front of the farmhouse, each one decorated a different colour. The band had positioned themselves opposite the wine stand and there was space for dancing in between. The strings of fans I’d made with Mia and Holly were festooned around the square, binding the whole party together and Vigneto Almagno looked almost good to go.
‘I can do you some glitter make-up if you like?’ I said to Mia. ‘It won’t take a sec.’
‘Really?’ she said, her face lighting up.
‘Yep, take a seat in my parlour.’ I pointed to the face-painting chair and grabbed some toner. ‘Sorry that it’s not quite the getting-ready-together love-in I’d imagined, but it’ll have to do. Hols! I’m doing make-up over here if you want some!’ I shouted, while Mia chose her colours.
Holly squealed and ran over. ‘Yesss! Can I be pink?’
‘You can. Pale or shocking?’
‘Shocking, of course.’
‘Sounds about right,’ I said, with a grin.
‘Can I have some too?’ Tony asked.
‘Of course! I’ll do you after Holly. Choose a colour.’
Mia handed me the red glitter, which was rich and glossy, and the perfect contrast to her pale blue dress. She sat down and held her hair off her face.
‘Go for it,’ she said, closing her eyes.
I couldn’t resist brushing on a small swipe of strobe cream to highlight her amazing cheekbones, then I painted a thin navy eyeliner into an elegant point on each side and feathered the glitter around the edges of her eyes. ‘Shall I pop you on some lashes as well?’
Mia hesitated. ‘I’m not sure… I haven’t ever tried them before. But… well, yes, if you think so?’
‘You can always peel them off if you don’t like them, but they’ll frame your eyes nicely.’
‘OK,’ she said, tilting her face towards me. A couple of dots of eyelash glue, thirty seconds for optimum tackiness, and she was done. Her doll-like face transformed for the party with an elegant, sparkly look. Mia opened her eyes, and I handed her a mirror. She frowned at first, doing a double take, then looked a little closer.
‘Abi? How is this possible? I can’t even believe it’s me! I love it! And the extra eyelashes,’ she said, batting them at herself to get used to them. ‘Thank you!’
‘My pleasure. They really suit you.’
She blushed, delighted with her party face, and switched places with Holly.
‘Just a tiny bit for me, please,’ Holly said, as I added a double pop of pink to her cheeks. I knew Holly’s face almost as well as my own, so she was easy to do. The colour-clash of bright pink with her red hair felt fresh and I added a smoky eye to complete the look. Then it was Tony’s turn. He sat down with the blue and black glitters, ready to be made up.
‘Good choice,’ I said, sweeping his face with cotton wool. ‘Sparkly and fun but with a serious tone.’
‘Exactly,’ he said, a smile on his lips. ‘Party-time meets professional.’
‘Where do you want it?’
‘Wherever you think.’
He closed his eyes as I cleansed and toned, peaceful and trusting, the two of us inches from each other. There was total quiet as I worked, giving him a sharp, sparkly V around each eye. His skin was tanned and warm, with just the right amount of stubble, his lips always ready to smile. I felt myself getting giddy as I stroked the glitter glue onto his face. As if I might be tempted to lean over and kiss him. NO, Abi!
‘I’ve gone for a relaxed kind of Zorro vibe.’ Tony opened his eyes and I stood back to assess my work, scanning his face in case another touch was needed. I nodded and held up the mirror for him to see. ‘Looks really good.’
‘It does!’ he said, admiring himself from both sides. ‘Very cool… thanks!’
‘Anytime,’ I said with a smile.
Mia’s alarm went off, bringing us back to the moment. ‘It is 3 p.m.,’ she called, looking at her phone. ‘Xavier? Holly? Are you ready to go?’ They both nodded. Mia did a quick lap around the other stallholders to check everyone was happy, then gave us a big thumbs up.
‘Time for the party to begin!’ Paolo announced proudly.
Tony jogged down the driveway to open the gate onto the main road. There was already a queue of people waiting and he looked like the Pied Piper as he led the first few revellers up the path towards the farmhouse. The band kicked off a jazzy tune, a jaunty violin solo, followed by the guitar and cello, and a lady in a long green dress started singing ‘Volare’. Cars were pulling into the drive and Gino was directing the parking, as guests wandered up, bought drinks, and settled into the party. Once the initial flurry was over, Paolo took the microphone from the singer and stood on his one good leg to address the crowd.
‘Friends, neighbours, and guests, from here, near and far, welcome to our annual summer party to celebrate the Vendemmia,’ he said, and everyone cheered. ‘I will speak in English as we have lots of visitors from the UK with us today.’ Well, that was a relief. ‘We had to start the Vendemmia slightly earlier than usual this year, due to the heatwave, and I want to say a big thank you to everyone who helped, while I was er…’ he pointed at his arm and leg in plaster ‘…indisposed.’ Everyone cheered and clapped again. Mia gave me a squeeze and Tony and I exchanged a proud look across the crowd.
‘We want you to enjoy the food and drink on offer. We have many chef and vintner friends here to give you lots of options to choose from. We also have face-painting this year courtesy of the wonderful Abigail Mason.’ Paolo pointed over at me and beamed as I gave a little wave. ‘But before we officially start the party, we want to share something very special with you all. My wife, Mia, and I, have been blessed to have my brother, Tony, staying with us for the past few weeks.’ He gestured towards Tony, who blew him a kiss. ‘There is nothing better than having family close by, especially as we lost our mamma last year. Tony has been working to reimagine Vigneto Almagno, and has produced a short film which will be shown for the very first time today. Tony…? Would you like to say a few words?’ Paolo handed him the microphone and started clapping, as the rest of the party joined in.
‘Grazie, Paolo. I wanted to tell the modern story of this beautiful old vineyard,’ Tony said, gesturing around. ‘A place I’ve known my whole life, where Paolo and I grew up and spent our childhood. We’ve seen it evolve over the years, along with San Gimignano and the whole region of Tuscany. There are so many wonderful things about this area that I want to share with the world. And what better way to do it, than with a short film.’
Paolo beamed with pride. ‘My big brother – always trying to bring Hollywood to Tuscany. Vigneto Almagno the movie.’
Mia laughed.
‘A mini movie, if you’ll indulge me,’ Tony said, from behind the projector, pressing play as the machine started to whirr. ‘It’s only a couple of minutes long and then we can get on with the real reason we’re here – to eat and drink and dance!’
I recognised the song as soon as the whistling started and looked over at Tony in surprise. He was looking straight at me and he smiled and pointed into the air at the music. It was a song I now knew very well – Sophia Loren singing ‘Bing! Bang! Bong!’ The theme tune to Houseboat – and it immediately transported me back to Siena, and that moment we’d had together. Our first real kiss. The screen dissolved to show an aerial shot of the vineyard, starting way up high, then getting lower and lower until we could just about make out the farmhouse and the swimming pool, the tables full of guests enjoying breakfast. Was that…me? Then the camera flew through the vineyard, taking us inside the vines as if Tony had attached his phone to Nero and sent him running off through the grass.
A time lapse showed the grapes growing, ripening, and changing colour, then bunch after bunch being snipped with the grape scissors and put into different baskets. The camera zoomed back out to show me, Viola and Mia working with Tony in the scorching heat to bring in the grapes. Photos of us hot and concentrating and then sun-kissed and smiling, working together, laughing together and then sitting drinking prosecco together. Glasses clinking at sunset in front of the farmhouse, at the open-air cinema in Siena, in an enoteca in Florence, at the table in Lavedrine X. It was supposed to be a promo film for the vineyard, but it was actually a whistle-stop tour of my time out in Tuscany, and I felt a lump in my throat at seeing all of those magical moments piled so quickly on top of one another.
I glanced back over at Tony, who was still watching me intently, almost shy, as I took it all in. A stunning shot of me in the Botticelli Room in front of The Birth of Venus, my face aglow at seeing her for the first time. Sunbathing by the pool, concentrating during the art classes, Viola in the lotus position, serene and smiling, the puppies running riot. It was a beautiful piece of film, and it was a brilliant reminder of everything I’d done while I’d been out here. I looked calm, and happy and relaxed. No sign of the fraught, tense Abi who had arrived only a month ago. I’d lived more freely in these last few weeks, than in the past eight years back in London.
Watching the film was like reading a love letter from Tony and Nero and Italy, and, once again, I felt completely seen. I hadn’t realised Tony had been paying so much attention. I remembered him taking a few selfies and the odd video, but not nearly enough to piece all of this together. The film finished on the battered Vigneto Almagno sign, forever swinging in the breeze and my heart was full. I looked at Mia and Paolo and I could see they felt the same.
‘Tony!!! You are so clever,’ Mia said, beaming as she threw her arms around him.
‘Bravissimo, Tony. Un video bellissimo!’ Paolo said, wiping away a tear. ‘You really should do something with this talent, you know. It is a waste.’
Tony laughed and slapped his brother on the back. ‘You think?’
I watched as they congratulated him, holding back until they’d finished. Mia took Paolo’s arm and helped him back over to the bar area as Tony turned to me.
‘Well…’ I said, softly. ‘It’s not often I’m caught by surprise, but you really got me there. I didn’t realise you were documenting everything so closely?’
‘Does that mean you liked it?’
I nodded, still slightly stunned. ‘I loved it.’
‘I’m glad. You inspired it.’
‘Did I?’ I stammered, taken aback.
He nodded. ‘San Gimignano is my home and I will always love it, but watching you experience Tuscany for the first time, was a different kind of magic.’
‘The music got me as soon as it started,’ I said. The flappy feeling was back.
‘We’ve packed a lot in over the past few weeks,’ Tony said, putting his arm around me. ‘I hope you didn’t mind me using some of our photos?’
‘Not at all.’ I leant into him, his arms strong and warm as he hugged me close, then pulled back, my heart thudding as I looked into his eyes. He was difficult to resist, and I wasn’t sure I wanted to anymore.
‘Er, ’scuse me?’ a lady with a broad Yorkshire accent interrupted. ‘Can me daughter ’ave ’er face painted?’ she asked. A tiny dot of a girl with mousy pigtails looked up at me hopefully.
‘I’ll leave you to it,’ Tony said, his eyes still locked on mine.
‘Let’s carry on this conversation later,’ I murmured, turning away. ‘She certainly can!’ I said, full of fun, switching into professional mode. I moved across to my face-painting stall and sat her in the chair. ‘Now, what would you like? A unicorn? A butterfly?’
‘Can I please be a dinosaur?’ she lisped, sticking out a bright green tongue.
‘You’re in luck – that’s my speciality.’
‘Really?’ she squealed.
‘Obsessed with ’em, I’m ’fraid,’ her mum said. ‘That green tongue is just a lolly though, it’s not been permanently dyed. Not yet anyway.’ She laughed and nudged her husband, who rolled his eyes.
I’d get a copy of the film from Tony later. I wanted to watch it again – and again – it was so beautifully observed, it made me feel funny inside. And it was exactly what the vineyard needed to reinvent itself. The bookings would start rolling in once the video was shared across their socials and people got wind that the idyllic Tuscan vineyard of dreams was sitting right here waiting for them. Paolo and Mia just needed to get a wine-tasting tour set up and the crates of wine would sell themselves.
I finished my tiny T-Rex and she skipped off happily as I looked around for Tony. I wanted to finish our conversation, but from that moment on there was a permanent queue of children waiting to be transformed into knights and princesses and goblins – and even a mushroom – for the rest of the day. At some point, Holly put a bowl of pasta under my nose, which I ate in between customers. The wine was flowing one side of me, with a very full YES bin, and Holly and Xavier were run off their feet feeding people on the other.
As the sun went down and the sky turned an inky blue, the fairy lights came on and lanterns full of flickering candles filled the vineyard with a soft glow. The crowd sang and danced and ate and drank, giving the Vendemmia the welcome it deserved, and once I’d finished the never-ending queue of children, I found myself glamming up the adults, with festival-style smatterings of glitter. I took a moment to look around and absorb the party atmosphere, smiling at everyone having so much fun. It was a joy to see so many people pulling together to celebrate the harvest like this and I felt privileged to be included and to play a small part. To be involved with a community again. I could see why Holly and Xavier had found their home in these people.
I looked up at Paolo snoozing in his chair while Holly worked behind the bar, pouring wine and Xavier stacked empty food trays and packed them into boxes. Dinner time was officially over.
‘Are you guys OK?’ I called, as Holly handed over three white wines in exchange for a twenty euro note.
‘I wouldn’t say no to an extra pair of hands once you’re finished,’ she called over her shoulder.
Surely there wasn’t room for four of us behind there. I stood up to look but it was just Mia serving down the other end of the stall. ‘Where’s Tony?’ I asked.
‘He’s gone to get another couple of barrels from the cellar,’ Holly said, already onto the next customer. ‘We’ve nearly run out.’
I packed up my paints and powders and started stacking them into my bag.
‘Is too late for the sparkle?’ Viola asked, as I finished zipping everything up.
‘Never!’ I said, getting the glitter pots back out with a smile. ‘What colour would you like? Red? Gold?’
She settled on a green and silver combination, and I applied it to her soft, yogic cheeks.
‘Is beautiful,’ she said, admiring herself in the mirror. She offered me five euros, but I shook my head. ‘No charge for friends and family.’ I chucked the glitter glue back in my bag and went to help Holly on the bar.
‘Ah, thank God!’ she said, clearly at her wits end. ‘Can you go down the end with Mia?’
I nodded and gave her a quick hug as I squeezed past. ‘Is Tony still not back?’
‘No,’ Holly said, with a frown. ‘Actually, would you mind checking he’s not trapped under a barrel of wine somewhere? He’s been gone for ages.’
‘Sure thing,’ I said, reversing back out again. I danced my way through the crowd to the farmhouse and down to the cellar. The light was on and Tony was in there; I could hear him on the phone.
‘I’ve got a couple of things to wrap up here, so if it can wait a few days, that would be better.’
I wasn’t sure whether to backtrack or carry on down if he was busy. I decided on the latter, noisily clanking forward to make myself known. I didn’t want him to think I’d been lurking in the shadows. I gave him an awkward wave.
‘Gotta go man, call me back if you need to,’ Tony said, hanging up.
‘Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt… Holly sent me down to check you were alright.’
‘All good. Work are starting to miss me – you know how it is. A timely reminder that I can’t stay here forever, I suppose.’
‘Don’t say that,’ I said, the thought of him leaving sending my insides into a spin.
‘Not ready to let me go just yet then?’ he said, with a smile, hoisting a barrel of wine onto his shoulder.
‘Can I take something?’ I asked, looking around. ‘Something… small.’
‘Yes, grab that case of wine,’ he nodded over at the corner and we both staggered up the stairs and back to Mia and Holly.
‘At last!’ Holly said. ‘I was about to call missing persons.’
‘Fear not, the wine is here,’ I replied, putting down the case I was carrying, which was tiny in comparison to Tony’s barrel. ‘I presume that’s what you were worried about, and not us?’
‘Two white wines please, love!’ a man called, waving twenty euros at me.
‘And four for me,’ another lady said, as a queue formed behind her. The party was packed. Mia positioned Paolo next to the wine barrels to act as chief pourer, while the rest of us took the orders and the money. We were a good little team once we got into the swing of things.
‘Working again when you’re supposed to be on vacation,’ Tony said, as we served side by side.
‘I know! It’s all going on my CV when I get home. Good job I’m getting mate’s rates.’
‘Mate’s rates? You should be getting a weekly wage!’ Tony said, with an admiring glance, his glitter mask twinkling.
‘Ah, no, not at all. I like being part of the team, you know? Makes me feel useful.’
‘Fair enough. In that case, we’ll pay you the same way we pay ourselves. In wine. Can I get you one?’
‘Oo, yes please, great idea. Mia? Hols? Do you want a cheeky work wine?’
‘No thanks,’ they replied in unison.
‘Just me and you, then.’ Tony poured us out two glasses and handed me one.
‘Again,’ I said, raising mine. ‘Starting to be a thing.’
‘A toast to the workers,’ he said, with a wink.
‘To the workers.’ I clunked my plastic glass with his and couldn’t help but smile.
‘I can hear my mother in my ear,’ Tony said. ‘We need something to balance all this work out. Let’s have a dance later, shall we?’
‘Good idea. For the sake of balance.’
The party settled down and the guests with children started to drift off home, while others chatted at tables and finished their drinks by candlelight, everyone full of food and wine and cheer. The band were still going strong, and the singer struck up ‘O Sole Mio’, drawing people to the dance floor in excitement.
‘That’s our cue,’ Tony said, holding out his hand.
‘Will you two be OK without us?’ I asked.
Holly nodded vigorously, like an embarrassing mother hen. Very subtle.
‘Of course,’ Mia said. ‘Enjoy yourselves.’
I took Tony’s hand and followed him onto the grass. The moon was up and shining bright and the air was still warm. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d been cheek to cheek with someone I had a connection with like this, but somehow, I didn’t feel nervous – it was exciting to be here, with him. I held my breath as he put his arm around my waist and pulled me close, safe in his arms as he led me smoothly around the dance floor, the two of us oblivious to anything but each other, and the music.
*
I lay in bed staring at the moon through my balcony window. Should I knock on Tony’s door or was that too much? He’d had to take another work call and hadn’t come back down and now it was 1 a.m. He’d be asleep. And even if he was awake, what if he wasn’t interested anymore? What if he was? I couldn’t cope with these feelings. This heat and desire. The way he’d held me and twirled me around the dance floor, the way he’d looked at me. It was too special to ignore.
And he was right – the clock was ticking; we weren’t going to be out here together forever. I’d speak to him tomorrow and say yes to dinner. We should at least have one official date before we both went home, even if it was all we ever had.