Chapter 12
With Hugh settled at a shaded table, his disingenuous cane hooked over the back of his wooden chair and his thriller novel in front of him – not one of their fellow guest, Ron’s books, he pointed out with a shrug as he found his page – he dismissed them as though they were children.
‘Go. Have fun. Come back when you’re ready. They do a decent lunch up here, so there’s no rush.’
Walking away from Hugh, heading along the path as he’d suggested, Tad glanced at Amy.
‘I think we’ve been given our orders, haven’t we?’
‘I’m so sorry,’ Amy said. ‘If you want to go home, please don’t feel you need to stay on my account. Hugh is such a character.’
‘He is. But I’m more than happy to stay a while longer, do a bit of exploring – Billie didn’t stray far from the champagne bar. That is, if you don’t mind my being here?’
Amy didn’t reply. Perhaps she would have preferred it if he’d left with Billie.
‘Would you rather be alone?’ he said, biting the bullet.
‘Not at all. I’d be happy for you to stick it out a little longer up here.
’ She grinned, then squashed it as though she didn’t want him to have noticed her joke.
He almost told her he enjoyed her puns, had done that very first evening before everything seemed to have become overly complicated between them, but she plunged on, explaining, ‘Although I’m not sure Hugh hasn’t got the wrong end of his own stick.
And I don’t mean his cane. I mean a proverbial stick.
Because it seems now as though he intended for us to run into you all along.
But how could he have known you’d still be up here?
I thought he wanted to visit the mountain, and yet all he wants to do is sit and read his book.
Why even bother to come all the way up here for that? ’
Tad arched his eyebrows. ‘It is the most sensational view – I mean, if you want a backdrop to enjoy while reading, you couldn’t pick much better than this, could you?’ He swept his hand around at the view.
Amy nodded. ‘I suppose. I do get the feeling there’s more to Hugh than he’s letting on.
In the ten minutes between when we discussed coming up the mountain and when we left Casa del Cibo, he’d managed to conjure up a car with a driver.
Not a taxi, an honest to God chauffeur-driven sedan.
I know he’s visited Lake Garda a lot, but still – that’s not normal, is it? ’
‘Maybe he didn’t fancy a taxi ride. And he has visited the area a lot; he must know loads of people here.’
‘I suppose. But something doesn’t add up. And we had special tickets, so we didn’t even have to queue.’
Tad grinned at her.
‘Do you think I’m overthinking it?’ she said.
‘Maybe. A wee bit.’
‘Hmmm. Well, whatever’s going on with Hugh, I’m determined to enjoy being up here.’
Tad frowned. ‘Billie told me you hadn’t wanted to bother with this trip – she said she tried to persuade you, but you said it would take you too long to get ready.’
Amy pulled in a breath. ‘She said that?’
‘Aye. I was expecting you to appear at any moment, but then we were in the taxi, and she said you weren’t coming. That you’d told her to go without you.’
‘Perhaps she misinterpreted what I meant. I had said I wanted some time off…’
‘Yes, to go exploring up here – not to stay at the hotel. Or at least that’s what I thought you meant.’
She nodded, looking confused. ‘Yes – that was what I meant.’
They walked on, Tad batting at the insects, which seemed to be finding the warm, clear air of the mountain to be perfect flight conditions. ‘How come you aren’t getting bug-bombed?’ he said, after a particularly noisy beetle-thing cruised past his left ear.
‘Hugh. He brought insect repellent.’
Tad gave a laugh. ‘Perhaps I shouldn’t be surprised. It seems Hugh should be our Lake Garda guru.’
Amy’s graceful, pale eyebrows lifted as she grinned. ‘Definitely.’
Apart from the insects, Tad decided that walking along the pathway, side by side with Amy, was unknotting tension from his shoulders.
Tension he hadn’t even realised he was carrying.
They stopped to watch a group of tandem kite jumpers running from the edge of the ridge and whooping their way out into the air.
‘Wow,’ Amy said with a grin. ‘That’s a hard no from me. No way I’d ever do that. Would you?’
‘Maybe,’ he said. ‘On a brave day.’
Her grin broadened. ‘I’d happily watch, but that’s it.’
‘Fair enough. How do you think this week is going, with Billie and the cooking?’ he asked, frowning as he blurted out another unguarded question. ‘Do you think she likes me?’
Amy turned to stare at him. ‘Looks as though she does.’
His frown deepened.
‘That’s what you wanted to hear, isn’t it?
’ Amy said. ‘Nobody chooses to be on the wrong side of Billie Forsythe-Rogers, do they? And she doesn’t usually bother to spend much time with people she dislikes.
Billie doesn’t need to do anything she doesn’t want to.
’ She scrunched up her nose. ‘I don’t know what’s wrong with me lately.
I’m stood here, looking at a view like that – this whole trip is courtesy of Billie – and I sound so ungrateful.
Someone kick me up the butt and tell me to get a grip. ’
Tad stifled a laugh. ‘Don’t make excuses for the way you feel on my account.
If I had a pound coin for every time I’ve stared at an incredible view and felt nothing but negativity, I’d be able to take a year off.
Maybe more.’ He turned to fully face her, so neither of them was looking out over Lake Garda any longer.
‘I’m sorry to bug you with questions about Billie. ’
He slapped at an insect, and Amy grinned at the unintentional pun. Then she tilted her head to assess him. ‘It goes with the territory. Someone’s always trying to impress her.’
‘I’m not trying to… Actually, I suppose I am.’
With a sigh, Amy said, ‘Of course you are. It’s all good.’
‘You sound exhausted, Amy.’
She shook her head. ‘Oh, I’m fine. In the big scheme of things, I’ve got no business feeling grumpy or sorry for myself, when there are people out there with far worse problems than mine.’
‘Or – crazy thought incoming – perhaps you should cut yourself some slack. We’re all entitled to our feelings.’
‘Even if they never seem to get me anywhere?’ she said.
* * *
Amy could tell her comment left Tad confused.
Truth be told, she was feeling confused herself.
What feelings was she referring to? Was it the way she felt about her job, her life since she’d lost her nanna, or was it her choice to be single?
Her determination not to continue to feel tethered by her time with Shaun, or to be overwhelmed by how she felt about ever trying to navigate a relationship of that kind of intensity again.
And where was she trying to get to, that her feelings were hindering her so badly?
When she’d left the UK for this trip to Italy, the last thought on her mind had been the fact that she was single.
There seemed no logical reason why thinking about her long-past failed relationship should be bubbling to the surface of her thoughts now.
After all, she didn’t need a man. No woman did, not really.
And if her mum could survive and raise three kids solo, then Amy could manage to navigate the world as a single, independent woman, couldn’t she?
Except that the more time she spent with Tad, the more images began to form in her imagination, of how his skin would feel against hers if he took her hand, or how it would be if he hugged her, how much electricity would jolt through her if his lips touched hers…
Not that any of those thoughts mattered while she was working for Billie – and Amy wasn’t at all sure she fancied risking her emotions in that way again – she wasn’t sure she could face that. It hurt too much the last time.
Maybe the truth was she was confused by all three things. Her sadness at Nanna Gold’s passing, her frustrations about her job and the tug of loneliness she was trying her best to deny. All three were messing with her internal equilibrium.
Being somewhere so awesome should lift her spirits. Like Hugh had said, the mountains should be doing something positive to her soul. And yet, Amy wasn’t sure it was helping.
She decided to push the conversation back onto Tad, to give herself some breathing space. ‘How do you think it’s going, having Billie as a guest?’
‘Good, I think. She seems to be enjoying the lessons, wouldn’t you say?’
Amy nodded.
‘I wondered if you know how the article might shape up – for the newspaper? Whether Casa del Cibo is going to get a decent write-up.’ He swallowed. ‘OK, if I’m honest – I suppose I’m wondering if I’m going to get a decent write-up.’
‘I know she has a fierce reputation, but she has mellowed a bit over the years. Promise. Plus, I’m the one who will work with the reporter to write up most of the copy. So, it’s me you should be more concerned about liking you.’
A beat of time passed; the grin she’d fixed on her lips slid away as she found herself unable to look away from him.
Tad stared at her, too, and as Amy noticed again the way his hair flopped across one of his eyebrows, and the crinkles at the very corners of his eyes as he scrunched them against the brightening of the sun, she wondered how long they would maintain eye contact, and who would look away first. Before it could be him, she pretended to find fascination in her shoe, then glanced back at him, her own cheeks flushing with heat at her lack of transparency.
She should fill Tad in on the rest of her conversation with Billie.
‘Actually, she was talking about the possibility of maybe getting the two of you a segment on a morning TV show, if the articles are a success. Started talking about Fanny Cradock. If you play your cards right, she was suggesting you could end up with your own show.’
‘She wants me to be Fanny Cradock?’ The lightness to his comment went some way to cover the sharpening of his focus.