14. Il marito
14
Il marito
The Husband
Omar
I don’t like this at all. There’s a red symbol blinking on the dashboard. And now there’s another one blinking. So much for bloody German cars. The engine stutters and I let the car roll to a standstill at the side of the road. Luckily we’re not on a motorway; we've just been cruising along the coastal road towards Grosseto. We were planning to stop off in some of the little villages along the way but the car started to make funny noises.
We’re on the outskirts of Castiglioncello and I can see the roofs of the first houses in the distance.
“Wait, why are we stopping?” Bri asks with concern. There’s colour back in her cheeks, and her eyes are lively again. We had to stay an extra two days in Florence until she felt well enough to travel but she’s truly on the mend, judging by the gusto with which she’s been demolishing her travel snacks.
The unplanned extension has put us a little behind our schedule, especially as Bri wants to travel via Salzburg on the way back home. Seeing the Christmas market there is top of her list.
We decided to only stop once on the way to Rome, in Grosseto. This should have compensated for the time we lost in Florence but the car playing up might mean we’re behind schedule again.
“The car’s died,” I reply, frustration creeping into my voice. I turn the key but nothing happens. I try again—still nothing. “I think we’ve got a problem,” I state the bloody obvious. Bri looks at me expectantly, as if I can just fix it.
“So what are you gonna do?” she asks.
“Me?”
“You’re the driver.”
“Yes, but I’m not a mechanic. There’s only so much I can do,” I shrug. Bri leans back in the passenger seat and sighs.
“We’ll have to park it here, walk into the village, and find someone to help us,” I suggest.
“I can wait with the car,” Bri says.
“Or you can come with me. It’s only a short walk, and I’d feel better if you weren’t left on your own by the side of the road.”
“It’s broad daylight. What’s going happen to me?”
“You never know.”
“Nothing’s going to happen.”
“Come on, Bri. It’s only a short walk.” I give her a pleading look. I really don’t want her to stay out here on her own. Alpha-hole alert.
“Fine.” She grabs her little handbag, the one that’s so small I wonder why she even has it. You can barely fit a phone in it. We start walking down the road to the village. Today is Sunday, so finding a mechanic who’s open is probably going to be impossible, but we can give it a try. And if not, we might be able to at least get a bed and breakfast, stay the night, and get the car fixed tomorrow.
The sun casts a warm glow over everything, making the terracotta rooftops of Castiglioncello look like a postcard. The sea glistens in the distance, and the gentle sound of waves crashing adds a soothing backdrop to our steps.
After a short walk we find a cosy café with tables set outside under large umbrellas. We approach the waiter, a friendly young man with a warm smile.
" Mi scusi, conosce un'officina meccanica qui vicino? " I ask him for the nearest car repair shop.
He frowns slightly before explaining that there isn’t one in Castiglioncello. There is one in the next village, though.
“That’s not going to do us any bloody good,” I mutter under my breath.
“What did he say?” Bri asks, looking at me with a mix of curiosity and concern.
“Nearest repair shop is in the next village. It’s Sunday in Italy. They’re probably closed, so why don’t we look for a bed and breakfast? Maybe someone there can give me a lift to tow the car back to the B&B. Then we can call the mechanic tomorrow to see if he can come over, or if we can get someone to take us to him. If a certain person had signed up with the AA, then of course, it would be easier.”
“Oh my God don’t start again,” she protests. I gave her a hard time when she showed me the Beast for the first time because she hadn’t signed up for breakdown cover.
The waiter kindly points us up the hill. “ Il B&B più vicino è proprio lì in cima, ” he says, gesturing with a smile.
I glance up the steep incline and then back at the waiter. He assures me it’s not a long walk and wishes us a good stay in Castiglioncello.
“So?” Bri tries to get me to translate our conversation.
“There’s a B&B up on the hill. It’s not too far, apparently.”
Bri looks at me and sighs. “Alright, let’s give it a go.”
As we start the climb, Bri mutters, “I hope it’s worth it.”
“Oh my God, this is so steep,” Bri breathes heavily behind me as we climb. When I turn around I see her hair sticking to her forehead with sweat, her face bright red, and she’s blowing hard.
“We’re almost there, Snaily,” I tease.
She shoots me a playful glare, then walks past me, her determination shining through her exhaustion.
When we finally reach the top we find a charming B&B nestled amongst olive trees. Its rustic stone walls and cosy balconies look inviting.
We’re greeted by an elderly woman with kind eyes and a welcoming smile.
“ Buongiorno. ”
“ Buongiorno. La nostra macchina si è rotta e dobbiamo portarla da un meccanico domani. Avete delle stanze disponibili e magari qualcuno che possa aiutarmi a trainare la macchina fin qui? ” I explain our situation to her.
“ Certamente, ho una camera per te e tua moglie ,” she replies with a kind smile. One room only, for me and my wife. Fuck! What now?
I can see a statue of the Virgin Mary on one of the window seats. Desperate times, desperate measures.
“ Perfetto ”, I tell her and she waves for us to follow her.
“Oh, she has rooms?” Bri asks.
“One room.”
“One… one room?” Bri stares at me. I just shrug. She’s not going to like this.
“Didn’t you explain that we can’t share a room?” she asks.
“She… she thinks we’re married,” I whisper as we climb the stairs to the upper floor of the building.
“Excuse me!” Bri exclaims.
“I know these Italian grannies. They won’t let us stay in one room unless we’re married.”
“Well… I don’t want to stay in a room with you,” she blows out making her fringe fly.
“What other choice do we have?” I ask. Before Bri can reply the old lady pulls us from our thoughts.
“ Eccomi qui. Questa è la vostra camera. Mi chiamo Cecilia. Se c'è qualche cosa che posso fare per aiutarvi, fatemelo sapere. E Francesco, uno dei miei fidanzati, può aiutarvi con la macchina .”
“ Uno dei tuoi fidanzati? ”
“ Sì ,” she giggles.
“Argh, what’s she saying?” Bri begs me to translate.
“One of her boyfriends will help me with the car.”
“One of… she has more than one boyfriend.”
“Apparently,” I shrug. I’m such an idiot. How could I fall for a stupid stereotype?
“Unbelievable,” Bri sighs. “Are you now going to tell her the truth?”
“How can I? How embarrassing would that be?” I hiss under my breath. “It’s only one night. Besides, it doesn’t change that she’s only got one room available.”
Cecilia is studying us. God, I hope she doesn’t speak English because she’ll think I’m a complete numpty.
“ Cecilia, sono Omar e questa è Bri ,” I introduce us. Bri waves awkwardly before giving Cecilia a big smile and stepping into the cosy room.
“Husband, why don’t you get me my luggage?” Bri smirks at me and falls onto the mattress.
“Yes, honey bunny,” I reply and follow the old lady before Bri can say anything else. OK, this time I’ve got us into a right mess.