Chapter 5
Chapter Five
Maurizio
The first week since Flora’s arrival had passed quite smoothly.
She was friendly, warm and had a welcome air about her that endeared her to everyone she met.
The children were growing accustomed to her presence, and although Craig was less keen on change, Rosie seemed to have taken to Flora almost immediately from the tickling game in the garden.
Bea had befriended her and was showing her around the local area and had introduced her to a few people, but for the most part, Flora seemed to keep herself to herself.
Our relationship was developing, and by developing I meant that she didn’t seem petrified of me anymore, or perhaps not as much, which was good.
I wasn’t an ogre. Far from it, and I found I wanted to show her that more than anything.
I was pretty easy going and as such tried to be friendly and welcome her into my home.
My attention was gained by the sound of the doorbell ringing followed by the children squealing with excitement. Opening my office door, I went to investigate.
“I miei bellissimi nipoti.”
The children were dancing around my mother who regularly spoke to them in Italian and always encouraged them to speak it. I couldn’t argue that they were indeed her beautiful grandchildren.
Their voices grew louder and louder with each of them trying to gain her full attention with calls of ‘Nonna’ echoing around the hall.
Bea stood nearby with Flora, both of them falling under my mother’s gaze. “Bea, how are you, and the bambino.” She rubbed her hand across Bea’s belly.
“I’m very well, thank you, and the baby appears to be very hungry judging by how much I’m eating.”
My mother laughed. “A strong and handsome boy then, like his father.” She winked, her appreciation for Bea’s possessive boyfriend clear.
“He’d like the idea of that.” Bea rolled her eyes.
My mother’s attention fell to Flora. “I’m Carmella, Flora…fiore, no?”
Poor Flora looked startled.
“Mother,” I called, hoping to distract her.
“Ah, Maurizio, mio principe. I didn’t know you’d be home.” She strode towards me and with a dip from me and a stretch from her, she kissed each of my cheeks.
“I was just about to make tea,” Bea said, ushering Flora towards the kitchen.
“Perfect,” my mother replied and turned to follow the nannies and the children who could surely sense the possibility of a biscuit or some other treat. My mother quickly turned back to me, a mischievous twinkle in her eyes. “She seems sweet—shy—bellissima.”
I rolled my eyes but didn’t disagree.
“And beneath that I think you might discover una donna appassionata.”
I laughed. Only my mother could go from describing Flora as sweet to passionate in six words. “Come, drink your tea, and no matchmaking.”
“Of course,” she responded as she sauntered towards the children, calling to them to show her something exciting.
I looked over the remnants of tea and cake, while the children, having devoured the cake and washed it down with milk, were now drawing and colouring. My mother was her usual charming self, telling Bea and Flora all about her home in Italy and sharing stories from her time spent there.
Several times she involved me in her conversation with the simple prompt of, “Tell them, Maurizio.”
Every time she used my full name, Flora looked startled, unlike Bea who knew that it was my actual name. The fourth or fifth time it was used, my mother noticed Flora’s reaction.
“It is his name, my dear. His given name, Maurizio.” She overemphasised her Italian accent, making me laugh.
“But Maurice is fine, or Mo.”
Flora flushed a little while Bea said nothing.
“I like it,” Flora seemed to blurt out. “Your name. Maurizio. It suits you.”
I smiled across at her and thought I might have flushed myself now.
“You are as wise as you are beautiful,” my mother told Flora before turning her attention to me. “See, what did I tell you? Maurice is an ugly old man’s name,” my mother accused, making the other women and my children laugh. “Maurizio is handsome, strong and sexy, no?”
I was unsure whether she expected an answer, not that I intended to give her one, unlike Flora who opened her mouth so that her ‘yes’ slipped out just after my mother added one more word of her own, “Virile.”
Flora looked like she wanted to crawl up her own arse, and why wouldn’t she? I briefly allowed my mind to wander to her arse. Peachy, toned, and begging to be touched. Bea roared with laughter as her phone sounded with a message.
She checked it. “Seb. He’s waiting for me. We’re going to see Carrie and Gabe tonight.”
“Get off then,” I told her, not that she needed my permission, it was just past her clocking off time after all.
She got to her feet and with all of her goodbyes said, she left, along with my mother who suddenly seemed in a hurry to leave me alone with the children, and Flora.
Flora nervously shifted around me for the first few minutes. She seemed happy and confident when talking to the children, but with me, not so much so. It seemed I still made her nervous. At least she was no longer petrified.
“Oh, I had a call earlier. Your car has been fixed.”
“Really?”
I chuckled at her surprise. I had been astounded when the local garage had said they could probably ensure it lived to see another day, although the mechanic had said it might not last months and certainly not years.
The car was hanging on by a thread. It was an old Mini that almost dated back to when they were popular the first time around.
It was way past its best and quite possibly a death trap between the unreliable engine and flaky red paintwork that held the thing together along with the rust. “Yeah, I was as surprised as you.”
“Did they say how much?” Nerves coated her words.
“He owed me a favour.” It hadn’t been my intention to say that, or to pay for the repairs, she did understand that’s what I’d meant, right?
I would have happily offered her an advance on her salary to cover the cost of repair.
Then I’d heard her concern which suggested she might not have the funds to pay for the work.
I had no clue how much the bill was, but that didn’t matter as I had committed to paying it.
“Oh, thank you. If you’re sure?”
“I am, and you’re welcome. I am in court tomorrow but not until lunchtime so once Bea arrives, I can drop you off to collect it.”
“Thank you,” she repeated.
“No problem.”
“I, erm, should be going . . . you’ll want to enjoy your evening.”
Her cheeks were pink and as I stared at her, considering the option of inviting her to stay and have dinner, her complexion deepened until it was red. I didn’t doubt that my evening would have been far more enjoyable if Flora remained.
Her breathing hitched a little and I could now see that her chest and neck were colouring up while she nervously toyed with the ends of her hair that were held in a ponytail.
“Goodnight, Mr Walk—” She stopped dead, remembering that we were on first name terms here. “Mauriz…Maurice.”
She virtually ran for the stairs, almost tripping over her own feet as she called to the children that she’d see them in the morning.
She had almost called me Maurizio. I grinned smugly. She really did prefer Maurizio over Maurice. Maybe that would be my sole mission in life, to get her to address me as Maurizio.
“Right then, my little rug rats, let’s get you fed, watered and ready for bed.