16. Chapter 16
16
T wo large glasses of fine Italian wine later, Katie seemed relaxed and back to her playful self.
The waiters had, as expected, flirted shamelessly with her, admiring her pale skin and red hair. One kept walking by, grinning at her and pointing at Tom. ‘He’s your brother, no?’
Every time Katie grinned and shook her head, no, he’s not my brother, the man clutched at his heart and made a sad face. He gave the same over-the-top pantomime attention to all the women, but it made it no less enjoyable.
Italy was the place to be for the broken-hearted. Katie was still getting over the shock of it all but seemed to be realising she didn’t miss Ryan as much as she had expected.
They were seated outside at a restaurant that had a mixed clientele of Italians and tourists. Red and white checked tablecloths fluttered in the breeze, and a busker with a deeply lined and weathered brown face played the violin just a few metres from them, a soft cloth cap on the ground in front of him. Pigeons wheeled in and out of the piazza, occasionally rising in great numbers when a pedestrian waded through their midst, and the shouts of waiters mingled with the buzz and thrum of scooters passing by.
When the waiter returned to top up their glasses, Katie raised her hand and shook her head. The waiter gave a mock glare at Tom, then grinned and sauntered off.
‘You know, you haven’t said much about how you feel about Melissa since it all,’ Katie waved her hand, ‘happened.’
Tom nodded but didn’t speak immediately. He wanted to organise his thoughts. Truth be told, he wasn’t sure how he felt himself.
‘Sorry,’ Katie said, ‘I didn’t mean to press you, if it’s too painful––’
Tom burst out laughing. ‘God, no, it’s not that. I’m not heartbroken. I’m just trying to explain it without…’ he paused, ‘without sounding callous.’
Katie watched him, slowly spinning her wine glass on the table by the stem. Her red hair seemed even more vibrant in Italy, being more of an anomaly. Her pale skin was luminous, and her eyes, fixed on his face, unreadable.
‘I don’t honestly know how to explain it,’ he began, ‘except to say…’ he took a breath, ‘it’s like a switch has gone in my head. She made her choice. She’s shown me what she wants and who she is. There’s nothing left to think about.’
Katie had stopped spinning her glass and was still.
‘In those first few weeks, when I was still trying to get my head around it all, I was hurt. Really hurt. I wondered what I had done wrong. Or not done.’ He smiled. ‘All the things I imagine you thought, too. What could I have done differently? What’s wrong with me?’
He glanced up, worried he sounded too soft, but Katie was completely still, watching him. He gave a nervous laugh.
‘And then, at some point, when I had gone through that, when I had returned her stuff to her and collected mine, and the dust had settled a bit…. I just felt…. cold towards her. I don’t feel upset. I feel… angry sometimes. Because I’m hurt, I suppose. But also angry with myself that I chose someone who would do that. Angry that I didn’t notice sooner. Angry that I trusted her.’
Katie reached out across the table and brushed her fingers against his. He flipped his wrist over and took her hand.
‘I really hope that this doesn’t stop you from trusting someone again,’ she said, gently squeezing his hand.
He looked into her gold-flecked eyes and found himself smiling softly. ‘I think I’ll be okay with that.’
Voices rose to his right as new diners arrived, joining a group already seated. A cheer went up and he watched as guests stood, kissing the new arrivals on their cheeks and shuffling chairs to make room. His eyes flicked back to Katie’s.
‘I suppose what I am saying is, I am not entirely over the whole situation, but I don’t miss her. I can’t miss her. She was never who I thought she was.’ He shrugged. ‘So there’s nothing to mourn because I was in a relationship with,’ he let out a deep breath, ‘an idea.’
Katie was quiet, but she still leaned across the table, her hand in his. The waiter strolled by but glanced at them in their solemnity and didn’t stop.
After a moment, Katie slowly withdrew her hand. Tom watched as her slender white fingers, short nails slick with glossy red varnish, slowly slipped from his palm. She sat back across the table and sipped her wine.
‘So, does this mean…um…that you don’t need our deal anymore?’ she asked, staring off into the piazza. ‘You don’t want me to come to the business dinner with you?’
‘Oh god, no. I still want to keep our deal,’ he said, suddenly realising it sounded like he was fine, over it.
He felt a tightness in his chest at the thought he had almost undermined their pact, and she might think the deal was done.
‘I’m not…’ he hesitated. He didn’t want it to seem like he didn’t want the pact to continue.
‘I don’t want to let them get away easily with what they did,’ he said, ‘and I’d rather not walk into that dinner on my own, with both of them there. Would just be good to have an ally.’
Katie smiled broadly and nodded. ‘Good.’ She dipped her head and drew her glass of wine towards her. ‘I mean, of course, yes, that was the deal.’
‘What are the chances of another costume malfunction?’ Tom asked in a casual voice, damping down a smile on his face.
Katie, glass raised to her lips, snorted and clutched the glass to stop it from tipping over.
‘Depends how boring the event is,’ she replied, grinning as her eyes met his.
Their eyes locked, and neither blinked nor moved. Tom felt like the world around them had suddenly turned down the volume and the colour. For a split second, there was only Katie. He realised he had been looking forward to this weekend, to this extended time with her. It was more than simply holding up his end of their strange bargain. He welcomed the excuse to see her.
‘More wine, for the beautiful lady?’
The waiter was back, waggling his eyebrows in mock seduction at Katie. The interruption broke the connection, and Tom felt suddenly exposed and off balance.
Katie was laughing at the waiter and shaking her head.
‘We have to go now, I am afraid,’ she said.
The waiter clutched at his heart. ‘You are leaving me?’ He glanced at Tom. ‘To run away with him? Ah! Well, so long as you are happy and in love…’ the waiter sighed and shook his head, fully in character. ‘I get you the bill.’
He expertly swept up the empty carafe of wine and strode back into the restaurant.
‘So,’ Tom said, rubbing his hands together. ‘It’s finally time.’
‘Yes, it’s time for your festival initiation. Really, this is very soft. We’re not even camping.’
‘No, but there will be sooo many people,’ Tom said, drawing his hands apart to show the vast number he was expecting.
‘Yes,’ Katie said cheerfully. ‘All having a great time. As will you.’
The waiter reappeared and slid a little silver salver into the middle of the table with the bill. Tom covered it with his hand and drew it towards him.
‘Let me get this,’ Katie protested. ‘You’ll feel like I owe you once you’ve listened to two hours of Europop.’
Tom shook his head. ‘No, it’s all sorted.’ He dropped some notes onto the salver and stood.
‘Oh.’ She glanced again at the notes. ‘That’s really kind. Thank you.’ She looked up at him as she gathered her bag.
Tom registered the hint of surprise in her voice and wondered how often Ryan had let her pick up the bill.
‘Right, lead the way! There’s probably no good time to listen to Europop, so let’s just get it over with.’
***
Katie was scrolling through emails to find the entry tickets as the taxi hurtled through the streets of Pisa. The festival was at the Piazza dei Cavalieri, one of the largest piazzas in Pisa. Tom glanced across at her, copper red hair falling forward, masking her face.
‘Ah ha!’ she said suddenly, looking across at him in triumph. ‘Found it! They aren’t on for another couple of hours, so we’ll have time to grab some food and some drinks, then we can fight with the other dozen or so fans,’ she rolled her eyes, ‘for a spot near the front.’
‘How did he even find out about this festival?’ Tom asked as the taxi driver yelled out the window at a passing scooter. ‘Seems a little niche.’
‘It is. He signed up for their mailing list, so he gets notified about all their gigs, wherever they are playing. They don’t tour often and have never played in the UK, so he got all overexcited when he saw they were playing at this festival. I booked the tickets and the trip as a present.’
The taxi driver was slowing and pulling into the roadside. People were streaming towards a side street, and Tom could hear music and see flashing lights reflecting against the sides of the buildings. The taxi driver tapped at the amount showing on the meter. Katie was diving into her bag, but Tom put his hand on her arm.
‘It’s okay, I’ve got it.’
Katie started to protest, but Tom shook his head and handed the money to the driver. ‘It’s fine. Let me.’
Sounding a little unsure, Katie said, ‘Well, thank you. But please let me buy the drinks.’
‘Sure,’ Tom said, pushing open the taxi door.
The taxi had been a welcome relief from the stifling temperature, and as he climbed out into the street, the heat rolled over him.
He strode to the other side of the car, where Katie was stepping out, and held out his hand for her.
Katie laughed in surprise. ‘Gosh, I’m not royalty.’
She blushed and looked at his hand as if it were an alien object. After a second’s hesitation, she took it, smiling up at him a little shyly. The more Tom got a sense of how Katie was used to being treated, the more it pulled at something inside him.
They joined the noisy throng of people jostling down the narrow side street. Restaurants and bars lined the narrow street, all crowded with customers, queues of people waiting for empty tables as crowds of people pushed their way past. Diners seated at tables sat back, relaxed, watching the moving sea of people jostle and ebb down the street.
As they reached the end of the street, it opened out to a large piazza. A stage was set up at one end, with giant screens on either side broadcasting the bands to the crowds nearer the back. Ancient, careworn buildings rose on all four sides, some bright white, some a muted yellow colour, others showing multiple layers of peeling paints, the deeper layers hundreds of years old.
Security barriers separated the festival area from the general public with just a narrow entrance past a check in desk. Disinterested marshals in t-shirts sporting the festival logo leaned on the metal fencing and chatted to one another, and two huge banners hung either side of the entrance. Tom felt Katie gently let go of his hand as she reached for her phone to bring up the tickets. There was no need for translation here. Katie showed the tickets on her phone, the teenage check in clerk scanned the QR codes and passed her two coloured paper bracelets, all without once looking up at them.
Katie raised one eyebrow and grinned as she passed Tom his bracelet. She fitted hers within moments, before Tom had even managed to pull the tab off the sticky section.
‘Come here,’ she said, gesturing for him to pass her the flimsy paper. He handed it over and lifted his wrist for her to secure it in place. He gazed at her bowed head and her fingers brushed against his wrist as she gently wrapped the band and secured it in place. A shiver went through him and he steeled himself to stay still. Katie’s head tipped up, hair slipping back from her face and over her shoulders.
‘All done,’ she grinned.
They stepped forward towards the narrow entrance between the barriers and held up their wrists to show the paper bands. The bored looking marshals nodded them through.
‘Wait.’ Katie’s hand was on his arm. ‘Let’s not forget why we’re here.’ She pointed back at the huge banners welcoming everyone to the festival. ‘Let’s get a selfie of us under one of the festival banners to add to the pictures of the band.’
Katie had her phone in her hand as Tom slung an arm around her shoulder. She leaned her head back into the hollow of his neck and angled the camera to fit them both in. They smiled broadly. Katie snapped away until she had several shots to choose from then pulled away from Tom, beckoning for him to follow her into the crush of people. ‘I’ll post it now,’ she called over her shoulder as she tapped into her phone. ‘See how Ryan and Melissa like it.’
Tom didn’t like hearing those names here. But not, he realised, because they conjured up some painful memories, but because hearing them burst the bubble he had created around him and Katie and this weekend. He hadn’t forgotten why they were there; but he had found himself enjoying the moments when it was just the two of them, talking, and for a moment he could push it from his mind.
Bars and restaurants facing into the piazza had set up stalls at the edges of their outside dining spaces, selling Aperol spritz and prosecco and takeaways of pasta, arancini, and panzerotti while vendor trucks offered pizza, ravioli, and gnocchi. Aromas of onion, garlic, and hot, fresh bread hit his nostrils as they pressed into the square, into the throng. The band on stage was smashing its way through a rock song he had never heard in a language he couldn’t discern, but the beat from the drums reverberated off the buildings and pulsed through him. A large crowd nearer the stage bobbed their heads and swayed in time to the music. Katie was pressed against his side in the crowd as they tried to move forwards, and he instinctively took her hand to keep her close. She looked up at him as he slid his hand over hers.
‘Don’t want to get separated.’
He smiled down at her.
‘Sure,’ she said, and he felt her fingers gently tighten around his.
It was a somewhat incongruous sight. The ancient Italian buildings rose gracefully from every side of the piazza, facades soft in the fading evening light, like huge faces watching all that took place in the square, and the massive digital screens, electric guitars, and drums throbbed from the stage. Coloured electric light beams swung across the audience and up into the sky.
The crowd pulsed around them. Groups of people swayed in time to the music, arms in the air, joining in with the lyrics they knew. Other groups stood chatting, and clutches of people pushed through the throng, clasping empty plastic cups and looking for an Aperol spritz refill or a birra.
Katie laughed and bobbed up on the balls of her feet as they shimmied forward with the crowd, going in no specific direction other than deeper into the piazza.
‘Don’t you love the buzz of something like this?’ she said, her eyes shining. ‘All these people together, all the excitement and the energy. It’s infectious!’
Tom looked down at her smiling face and grinned. ‘Actually, yeah. It’s better than I expected.’
‘See?’ Katie grinned back at him.
The crowded piazza and people pushing past to get to the bars forced them to press together. She had let go of his hand but was right in front of him, her head tipped back to see his face. His hands rested lightly on her shoulders, his fingers brushing the skin at the top of her collarbone and the nape of her neck.
A young Italian couple shoved their way through the crowd, elbowing their way between people. An older man to the left of Tom and Katie shouted at the couple and shoved them back. The young man lost his footing and fell towards Katie, knocking her off balance into Tom.
‘Scusa, scusa,’ the young man said, unsteady on his feet.
Without missing a beat, Tom said, ‘Guarda dove stai andando.’
He moved and stood in front of Katie, all six foot two of him towering over the younger and shorter Italian.
The young man held up his hands as ‘sorry’ and backed up, knocking into an Italian woman.
‘Ehi stronzo, guardol!’ she shouted, lifting a fist in his direction.
The young man wrung his hands in apology and barrelled off into the crowd, where his girlfriend was now watching events unfold from a safe distance. She grabbed him by the arm and started to yell at him.
Tom took Katie by the shoulders and turned her to face him. ‘You okay?’
‘Oh, I’m fine,’ she said, a broad smile on her face. ‘Better than fine. Let’s get a drink, shall we?’
‘Sure,’ Tom said, staying close as she navigated her way carefully through the crowds towards one of the restaurants selling drinks to festival goers.