Chapter 3
CHAPTER THREE
I stared at the food Leonardo had brought us for breakfast. He kindly took it out to the balcony, insisting we sat outside to eat at our little shaded table. He had brought us a selection of pastries, fruit, bread and jam. Maria followed with our coffees. She seemed less angry this morning. She even managed to give us a smile, which was surprising as we were still in our pyjamas.
“I know we’re full from last night, but this looks so good. And not a biscotti in sight.” I picked up one of the bread rolls and cut into it, smothering it in butter and Maria’s homemade jam.
“How can you eat more bread after all that last night?” Sarah asked, as she picked up a banana. “We will be overdosing on carbs. I’ll have some grapes, but I just don’t think I can manage anything else right now.”
“You might as well eat and fill up now whilst you can. If we’re out walking in the touristy places then food will cost a fortune. I doubt we’ll come across any more Alessandros willing to guide us in the right direction.” I bit into the bread. It was so soft, almost like candyfloss the way it melted in my mouth. “Why don’t we turn the rest of these bread rolls into jam sandwiches and take them out with us to have later? We can eat properly tonight.”
We decided to have the pastries for breakfast before making a mini picnic to take with us. We wrapped the sandwiches in a tea towel Leonardo had left. It was still early, but the sun was now up and shining down the narrow road and onto our balcony. We watched as the locals set about their days, as we sat back in our chairs with our feet up on the railings. Sarah and I had been on a lot of holidays together, but so far, this was the most grown-up one to date. We were hangover-free and up early enough for breakfast. How very mature of us.
“So, where shall we go today?” I asked. We’d decided not to make an itinerary for this trip, or prebook anything, deciding that it would put too much pressure on us to make sure we got to certain places on time. We had an idea about the places we wanted to visit, but thought we would wing it each day.
“How about we walk in the direction of the Trevi Fountain?” She picked up her phone.
“Sounds good, but how far is it?” I hid my trepidation behind another sip of cappuccino.
“Just a little further on than the Pantheon, so not too far.” She studied the map on the app. “Ooh! We can do a circle and check out the Colosseum on the way back, seeing as we didn’t make it there yesterday. That will fill our day.”
“Let’s do it. I might have to wear my trainers today though.” I massaged the heel of my left foot, which had been feeling tender, hoping I wouldn’t end up with a blister. Those sandals were a bad idea yesterday.
“I thought that too. You’d think we’d be used to walking, being from Yorkshire.”
I stood up and picked up some plates to take back inside. “I’ll have a quick shower, and you can text Alessandro.”
“I can’t text him now, it’s far too early.”
“I’m sure he’ll be awake. He was dressed all businessman-like when we saw him, so he’ll likely be on his way to work. Message him. Say exactly what we discussed last night. ‘Hello, this is Sarah from yesterday. Thank you for the advice on where to eat. How about meeting for a drink tonight? X’. Something basic and not too pushy.”
She hesitated, holding her phone in her hand. The more she thought about it, I knew the less likely it was that the message would get sent.
“Don’t overthink this. You’re not proposing anything serious. It is just a drink. A. Harmless. Drink.”
I left her with her thoughts and grabbed my phone on the way to the bathroom. There was a message waiting for me from Zack.
Good morning, baby, I hope you slept okay and weren’t too warm. Bing slept on my chest and wasn’t budging, no matter how much I tried to move. I was roasting. He must be missing you. As am I. What are your plans today? Xxx
I was still wearing my giddy schoolgirl grin as I got in the shower after sending him a reply with our plans. This was a very refreshing, mature relationship. I didn’t need to worry about what Zack was up to. I doubted he would be distracted by a twenty-something.
Good morning! I miss you too. More exploring on the agenda today. I might need to schedule a foot massage when I’m home, if you can fit me in… Xxx
I can always fit you in, I’ll be on hand for all of your needs when you get back. Enjoy your day :) Xxx
When Sarah and I were finally ready, we set off walking in our comfy trainers. Once again, Sarah’s hair was elegantly flowing in the light breeze, slipping off her shoulders as she walked, and mine was already starting to stick to me. I knew wearing it down would be a bad idea, so I pulled the spare bobble off my wrist, quickly tied it all back into a makeshift bun, and pulled out my handheld fan to waft my neck.
“Has Alessandro replied yet?”
“No, not yet. He probably won’t. I bet he was just being nice to the two lost tourists last night. He’ll do it all the time. He won’t have been serious about meeting up.”
“Of course he was being serious. Why else would he give you a card with his phone number on it? He’ll reply.” I wasn’t used to seeing Sarah lacking in confidence and being so down on herself. This wasn’t her, and it was difficult to witness. “Sarah.” I held out my arm to get her to stop walking and turn to face me. It was pep-talk time. “You’ve been through one of the worst years ever. First, Max The Wanker had an affair and subsequently ended your engagement. Then, he fucked up the mortgage payments so you had to move out of your dream home with very little notice. You deserve to have some fun. You deserve to have a hot Italian guy flirt with you and take you out for drinks. He will reply, and tonight you are going to take back your happiness. It’s been gone for too long, and I miss my friend, Sarah. She has got to make her comeback.”
A small tear escaped her eye, making its way down her cheek. She wiped it away and managed a smile.
“Yes, you’re right. I’m sorry. I’ve sulked and moped about all this for long enough. It’s time to move on and stop feeling sorry for myself.”
“Yes, it is. And don’t say sorry. I’m always here if you need to talk, but you need to get back on the horse. Or mount a stallion. Now, let’s get to the fountain. My feet aren’t aching yet, so you’ve got plenty of time before I start moaning at you.”
I linked my arm in hers, and we carried on with our journey, smiles on our faces.
“ What do you mean you have to move? ” I asked Sarah, as she frantically cried down the phone to me.
“ Max hasn’t been paying the mortgage. ” She took a deep breath. “ And he’s had all his mail redirected to his new place, so I haven’t known about any of this until now. ”
“ But you’ve been paying your share, haven’t you? Can’t they take that into account? ”
“ The payments come out of his bank account. I’ve been transferring my share to him so payments can be made, but he hasn’t been passing them on. Just pocketing my money. I’m screwed. ”
“ What a wanker! What does your letter say? ”
“ That I have thirty-one days to vacate. On my thirty-first birthday I get thirty-one days to vacate, before they seek possession and send the bailiffs. What am I going to do? ”
“ Don’t you have any rights? You kept to your share of the payments, you have proof, it’s not your fault he stole your money. ”
“ Apparently there’s not a lot I can do. I called them this morning. They don’t care about personal disputes. They just want paying, or they repossess the house. There’s no way I can pay all this. I wouldn’t even be able to afford to buy him out to take it on myself. ”
“ What an absolute cockwomble! ” I was filled with so much rage I could have burst into tears myself, but I had to be strong for my friend.
“ I’m going to be homeless! ” she cried. “ How? How could any of this have happened? ”
“ No, you’re not going to be homeless. No one would ever let that happen. You can stay with me. I have plenty of room. I can clear out the spare room for you, there’s already a bed in there. Zack will help bring your things across. You can stay for as long as you need to. We’ll sort this out together. ”
“ Oh, thank you. ” She struggled to talk through the tears. “ I can’t believe it. I’m losing my home. First, my fiancé, and now my dream home. What else can that guy do to me? ”
The Trevi Fountain was, as the Italians would say, ‘amaze-a-balls-a’. No other words could adequately describe it. We stood in silence for what felt like hours and hours, just taking in all the detail.
“Well,” Sarah said. “Now that’s a fountain. Trafalgar Square, eat your heart out.”
“It sure is.”
Above the sea of heads were smartphones on selfie sticks, like balloons on a string floating above us. Hundreds of them. No one seemed to be taking in the sight with their own eyes, they were just looking through the cameras on their phones. Well, the younger lot were. The older generations were enjoying it, like us. Oh my God, are we now classed as the older generation? Hell, no. I pulled out my own phone and started snapping away, taking photos of the fountain and the odd selfie, some of Sarah and me, and then Sarah on her own. Then I saw it.
Over Sarah’s shoulder, on the other side of the fountain, I could see a man down on one knee with a ring in his hand, holding it up to a very emotional and happy woman in her twenties. Shit. Sarah did not need to be seeing these levels of romance. This holiday was supposed to make her forget that it was supposed to be her wedding week. We had to get moving. She could not see this.
I returned my glance to Sarah to suggest we should start our walk to the next location, when I saw the huge, beaming smile on her face. She was looking at her phone too, but not through the camera.
“Alessandro has replied,” she said. “He’s going to meet us later.”
By the time we got back to our hotel, my feet were throbbing. Even in my brand-new memory-foam Skechers, my feet were defeated. We must have walked at least ten miles in circles, going back and forth to see things we had missed. I couldn’t complain really, Rome was spectacular. And once Sarah received that text from Alessandro, she’d been practically bouncing from place to place. I had struggled to keep up with her.
“We can try the bus tomorrow, if you like?” Sarah watched me cringing as I carefully removed my trainers and gently peeled my socks off. “It might help our feet to recover.”
“Definitely, ahh.” A blister on my little toe had popped, and the sock felt like it had been cemented to it. “Oh, that stings.”
It had just turned five o’clock. We had two hours to go before we were meeting Alessandro at the bistro down the street. That meant I had two hours to soak my feet in ice-cold water in the hope that they would forgive me. I have put them through some tough times in my life, but this was their limit.
“Are you having another shower?” Sarah asked.
“I think I will.” Rome in June was proving to be a hot one. Especially when walking around as much as we had been. “Shall I go first?”
“Yes, I’ll try to get online and book tickets to the Colosseum.”
We had already made it to the Colosseum earlier that afternoon, hoping to get in, but we had never seen queues like it. The worst queue I had ever witnessed until then was the day the final Harry Potter book was released for sale in Waterstones, but this was unbelievable. There was no way in hell we would have made it inside before it closed. And with the sun belting down on us, it wouldn’t have taken long for us to melt. We had heard an older couple in the queue arguing with each other because the wife had apparently instructed the husband to book the tickets online, but the husband didn’t, because he insisted she had not told him to do anything of the sort. The husband then got an earful, before loudly asking a passing tour guide if the lions were still in the pits so he could throw his wife in. They both looked miserable in each other’s company. We sat on a wall in some shade and took out our jam sandwiches to eat whilst watching the drama unfold.
Before I stood up from the bed, taking deep breaths in anticipation of the pain that was sure to shoot through my feet as soon as I placed them on the floor, I had a quick glance to the coffee table.
“Is that new biscotti?”
On a white plate, with gold paint intricately decorating the edges, was some chocolate biscotti.
“That woman is a biscotti baking machine!” Sarah said, picking one up and taking a bite. “Wow, these ones are good.”
“Anything made of chocolate is good.” I hobbled to the table and helped myself to one. Sarah was right. The last batch had barely been touched, as they were rock hard and had too many almonds in them. I suspected these ones wouldn’t last the night. “Right, I won’t be long in the shower. Then you can start glamming yourself up.” I winked at my nervous friend and took my hot, swollen feet to the bathroom, feeling instant relief as I stepped onto the cold marble floor.
“I have heard of Halifax.” Alessandro was leaning across the table, gazing at Sarah. “I visited London some years ago and think I saw Halifax.”
“Oh, Halifax isn’t in London,” Sarah said.
“Hmm, I thought I saw a sign, with a big blue cross.” He held his arms in front of him to form an ‘X’ shape.
“Ah, I think you mean the bank. There will be a lot of Halifax banks in London. Our Halifax is a town in Yorkshire, up in the north of England.”
“Okay, okay.” He seemed embarrassed. “I am sorry, my mistake. In that case, I have not seen Halifax.”
“That’s okay,” Sarah said. “It’s an easy mistake to make.” She pointed at me. “This one thought Pisa was down the road from here.” They both laughed and were staring into each other’s eyes like two teenagers scared to admit they fancied each other.
Even though I had my own man at home, I could still appreciate how gorgeous this man was. He must have been in his thirties, like us. He dressed very smartly and seemed quite well off. I tried to pay for a round of drinks for us, but he would not allow it. I liked him even more after that.
Conversation between him and Sarah seemed easy, despite the slight language barrier. He spoke really good English. I didn’t actually mind that I was playing the gooseberry this evening. Sarah lost her twinkle after Max The Wanker broke her heart, but this evening her eyes were shining again. I could feel her coming back to me. It was great to witness. Apparently, the cure to a broken heart was a sexy Italian man.
As happy as I had been to witness Sarah’s comeback, I realised it was getting quite late, and I wanted to phone Zack for a quick chat. I was about to make my excuses and leave, when Alessandro stood up.
“I will be back, mi scusi, ladies.”
He wandered to the back of the bistro to the gents’ toilets.
“Jen, how’s my hair? Do I have anything in my teeth? Is my make-up okay?”
“You look gross. Total train wreck.”
She slapped my leg. “I’m being serious! He is so yummy, and I feel like a sweaty, horrible slob. It’s so humid here.”
“Sarah, you look fabulous. Your hair is glossy and enviably perfect, despite the humidity. Your make-up hasn’t smudged, and he seems so besotted with you. He hasn’t taken his eyes off you. Enjoy it.”
“Okay, okay. I just feel so awkward chatting and flirting with a guy. I’ve not done this for years. I feel so out of practice. This is the first guy since, you know who, that I haven’t wanted to kill.”
“Well, you’re doing amazing for someone who up until now has wished death on anyone with a penis. Including Santa.”
“That pervert deserved what he got.”
I don’t think I will ever forget the image of horrified children as Sarah threw eggnog in the face of the poor Santa who was handing out candy canes and sharing sweet words of Christmas cheer last December. ‘ And here is one for the pretty lady. Merry Christmas! ’ is all he’d said as he had handed some candy to Sarah with a cheery smile. One eggnog shower later and we were both escorted out of the shopping centre by security. We have not been back since.
“Well, anyway, you’re doing great this evening. I was single for years and never managed to stay as calm and collected as you are when I was around someone I fancied.”
Alessandro appeared back at our table.
“More espresso, ladies? I can order some if you like?” he asked.
“Oh, no thanks. I think I’ll go back to the hotel, actually.” I looked at Sarah. “I can phone Zack and say goodnight. Is that okay?”
“Yes, sure, that’s fine.”
“I will make sure Sarah get back safely, do not worry,” Alessandro said.
Seeing as the hotel was approximately twenty metres away, I was sure she would be fine.
“Okay, thank you so much again for the drinks.” Alessandro leaned in and did the European ‘kiss on each cheek’ thing. “I’ll see you back at the hotel,” I said to Sarah, giving her a sly wink before leaving.
I walked into the hotel entrance and was met by Maria. She must have been on the wine. Her cheeks were rosy and she seemed very happy to see me, pulling me in for my second ‘kiss on each cheek’ of the day. She held onto my hands as she was speaking to me, but I had no idea what she was saying. All I could make out was, ‘ Bella ragazza inglese! ’ which I assumed meant ‘I made you more biscotti’.
“I’m going to bed, Maria. Very sleepy.”
“Ah, si, si, go sleep.” She smiled at me. “I bring more biscotti tomorrow.”
“Oh, we would love more of the chocolate biscotti please. They’re our favourite.”
“Chocolate?” The grip on my hands tightened.
“Yes, the ones you left for us this afternoon. There aren’t many left, I’m afraid. We couldn’t help ourselves.”
Her pink cheeks turned into furious-red cheeks. She still had hold of my hands and the grip was almost unbearable. I feared they would be crushed in her Hulk-like grip. Just at that moment, a sheepish Leonardo appeared, holding a glass of red wine.
“ Biscotti al cioccolato? ” she said to him, releasing her hold of my poor hands. “ Idiota! ”
And then, World War Three was declared right in the lobby. Italy against Italy. Traditional biscotti against rebellious chocolate biscotti. Maria was winning the battle, for sure. I felt very awkward, as Maria’s argument was very animated, with a hand gesture in my direction for every angry word. Italians seemed to have their own sign language for getting a point across. Maria didn’t need to bother, though. Her anger was palpable.
Maria finally stormed out of the room and into the kitchen, where more banging and cluttering followed. Leonardo looked at me unphased, and smiled.
“I am sorry, Maria no like chocolate biscotti. I make them for English lady guests. They are popular. But Maria no like it. She, ah, she want to make traditional.”
“I’m so sorry if I’ve got you into trouble!” I was mortified and scared for him.
“It no bother.” He smiled. “I bring you more in the morning.” He winked, and turned to go through a different door, far away from Maria. I pulled my phone out of my bag and typed a message to Sarah.
Don’t rush back. Maria is on the rampage and I got Leonardo in trouble! Whatever you do, don’t bring up the chocolate biscotti with her!!! I’ll explain later. Enjoy the rest of your evening. Have fun! ?? Xxx
Getting back to the safety of the room was a relief. It was peaceful, away from the noise of Maria’s wrath, and it was also cool thanks to the air conditioning. I slipped off my sandals and curled up on the small couch whilst scrolling for Zack’s number in my phone.
“Hey you.” His voice was like music to my ears. “Everything okay?”
“Hey! Yes, it’s all good here. Just thought I’d check in. Are you all right? Are you free for a chat?”
“Yeah, I’ve just got to yours to let Bing in and give him some food.”
“How’s he doing?”
“He’s great, he’s barely left me alone since I walked in. I’ve just been out for tea with my mum and dad. All they did was talk about you. They can’t wait to meet you. I think they like you already.”
I was looking forward to meeting them. They lived in Spain for most of the year, but had come home for a couple of months to see family and friends, and I suspected to escape the southern Spanish heat. English summers are known for being cold and dreary, after all.
“Unluckily for you, that means you can’t dump me for a hot young blonde.”
“I know. Dammit. Had my eye on one, too.”
“Well, my hot blonde bombshell is currently out having drinks with her new Italian boyfriend, so looks like you’re stuck with me for a bit right now.”
“Sarah is out with a guy?” His tone had changed. “On her own? Is that safe?”
“Yes. She’s a grown-up now so she doesn’t need minding.”
“Did you say you were back at the hotel? I’d hate to think you were out on your own, you never know what could happen.”
“Zack, honestly, it’s fine. She will be fine. He’s a nice guy and it’s making her happy. Which is what this holiday is all about.”
“If you’re sure.”
“I am. Anyway, the bistro they’re at is literally across the road. If I lean far enough over the balcony, I’ll be able to see them staring into each other’s eyes feeding amaretto to each other.
“If you say so.”
If this was Zack’s attitude to a mature, grown-up date in a foreign country, then it would be best he never heard about our holiday to Zante all those years ago. He would not approve. Some things were best kept secret.
“So, tell me more about dinner with your parents? What’s new with them?”
“Not much. Same old, same old. They asked about you, about work, more about you. They want me to organise a meal out with us and them when you get back if that’s okay?”
“Of course it is. I can’t wait to meet them. We can sort it out next week.”
“Good. I’ll let them know. Anyway, why are we talking on the phone as if it’s the nineties? Have you got wifi there? Call me on WhatsApp video, I want a sneak peek of those white bits.”