Italian Romance (2 page)

They hugged the river for a while south before crossing it and
joining an even busier road. It was a still, sultry afternoon and the heat rose
off the street in shimmering waves. The only thing pleasant for Kay about being
on a scooter was the air fanning her face as they bumped down potholed roads.
Her light clothes already felt drenched in sweat.

They eventually left the cobbled streets behind, and with them the
renaissance facades. Newer buildings loomed overhead and television antennas
and satellite dishes bristled against the skyline. If anything, the suburbs
were even busier than the centre and many streets were crammed, end-to-end with
tiny shops. There was so much life, so much energy.

Alessandro finally stopped the scooter in front of a high dove-grey
building. It was a solid, no nonsense structure that looked as if it had been
built during the Fascist era. Kay let go of Alessandro’s waist and staggered
off the Vespa as elegantly as she could manage. She pulled off her helmet and
handed it to Alessandro. She wasn’t about to thank him for the ride. She was
frankly amazed they’d made it to their destination.

“This way,” Alessandro locked up the bike.

Wordlessly Kay followed Alessandro into the building where they
were buzzed up. Stony silence filled the lift as they travelled up to the third
floor. Alessandro had nothing to say and Kay couldn’t think of anything to say
to him. He obviously lacked the art of small talk.

Melissa was waiting on the landing when the doors opened.

“Kay, Kay!” Melissa launched herself at her younger sister and
embraced Kay in a bear-hug. “So pleased you could make it hun – at least
someone in the family is still talking to me!”

“Although I’m not sure how much longer I will be,” Kay muttered
but Melissa ignored her. Clucking like a mother hen, Melissa ushered Kay into
the apartment. Alessandro reluctantly followed.

The apartment was tiny, consisting of little more than a miniscule
corridor, a cramped living area with a corner kitchen and a small bedroom and
bathroom off to one side. French doors led out to a narrow balcony. The aroma
of sautéing garlic and tomatoes filled the small space. A man was standing at
the stove cooking. He was a younger, slighter version of the man who had
ungraciously brought Kay here.

“Vinnie!” Melissa called, “come meet my baby sister!”

Vincenzo Falcone hurried across and shook her hand
enthusiastically, greeting Kay with a warm smile. “
Piacere
Kay.
Madonna!
You look so much like your sister!”

“The similarity ends there I’m sure Kay will tell you,” Melissa
laughed, “I may be the oldest but Kay here is the ‘sensible’ one.”

“You make it sound like a fault,” Kay mumbled but no one appeared
to hear her.

“Alessandro,” Vincenzo beckoned to his brother, “
ma rimani per
cena anche tu?

“No,” Alessandro replied, before speaking in rapid Italian to his
brother. A heated exchange followed with a lot of hand gesturing. Finally
Alessandro threw up his hands in submission. Victorious, Vincenzo grinned and
turned to Kay and Melissa.

“Good. He’s staying to dinner.”

Was that all? Kay would have thought from the way they were
speaking they were about to have a massive falling out. She wasn’t used to such
exuberant, volatile people. What a pity Alessandro was staying to dinner -
she’d been hoping to find another means of transport back to her hotel and rid
herself of his surly presence.

Vincenzo poured them flutes of
prosecco
, a dry sparkling
white wine, and they sat under an umbrella on the balcony. The searing midday
heat had abated and a stand of umbrella pines next to the building provided
shade. Kay took a sip of her wine
and ran a scrutinizing eye over her
sister. She hated to admit it but Melissa looked fabulous. Her pale, freckled
skin was tanned a light gold and her wavy, shoulder-length auburn hair had
sun-streaks in it. But more than just physical well-being, Melissa Starling
radiated contentment and calm. Kay had never seen Melissa like this. Back in
New Zealand, Melissa, like Kay, worked too hard. They were both freelancers;
Melissa was a children’s book illustrator and Kay was a freelance editor.
Neither of them took enough holidays and both of them worked too hard. Kay was
used to seeing Melissa tense and a bit manic. This new version of her sister
was unsettling. It was like dealing with someone who’d been brainwashed by
religious fanatics. The only difference here was that Melissa was clearly high
on just one thing. Love.

Irritation surged through Kay and she took a gulp of her drink.
The bubbles caught at the back of her throat and she spluttered inelegantly.

“So how are you feeling after your long flight,” Vincenzo asked
politely, “you must be jet-lagged?”

“A little,” Kay admitted. Despite her nap, as the day wore on she
could feel fatigue settling like a heavy blanket over her.

“I have to say I was shocked when Kay said she was coming to
visit,” Melissa refilled their glasses, “you aren’t much of a traveler. When I
invited you to come on holiday with me you said you were too busy.”

“Well, maybe I should have come,” Kay replied.

“What? You think you might have kept me out of trouble?” Melissa
countered, as usual reading her sister accurately.

“Maybe,” Kay replied stubbornly.

That was as near as they had got to the real reason Kay had paid
an exorbitant sum for a plane ticket and rushed to Rome. Melissa knew how
unpopular she was at the moment and the upset she had caused. However, neither
of them were ready to broach the subject directly.

As the sun dipped further towards the horizon, sliding behind the
pines, the bottle of
prosecco
emptied and Vincenzo went back to the
kitchen to prepare dinner. Melissa followed, leaving Kay and Alessandro alone.
The wine, coupled with jet-lag and an empty stomach, made Kay light-headed and a
little woozy. Alessandro sat on the other-side of the table sending a text
message and ignoring her.

Kay decided to find out a bit about this family that had suddenly
intruded upon her life.

“So… Alessandro. Melissa tells me Vincenzo is a carpenter. What is
it you do?”

“I’m a journalist,” Alessandro replied without bothering to look
up from sending his text message.

“You and Vincenzo both speak English very well. Where did you
learn it?”

Alessandro looked up and once again Kay was hit by the voltage of
his intense gaze. She felt a frisson ripple through her body in response but
resolutely ignored it.

“What did you expect?” his voice was softly mocking, “that all
Italians speak English like in the Godfather?”

“Well no, I haven’t seen the Godfather actually.” Kay refused to
be baited.

“Vincenzo and I spent each summer in Cambridge studying English
while we were teenagers. After that we both lived in London for a couple of
years.” Alessandro replied. His voice was clipped.

Silence fell between them once again and as it dragged on, Kay
felt herself growing angry with Alessandro Falcone. She hadn’t expected to like
these people Melissa had fallen in with but Vincenzo’s brother was one of the
rudest men she’d ever met. She thought Italian men were supposed to be
charming. Tiredness and alcohol dissipated her usual shyness.

“Well since you asked, I work as a freelance editor, which means
we’re in similar fields.”

“Really,” he leaned back in his chair and drained his glass, “how
so?”

“Well I edit what journalists write,” Kay doggedly continued,
“what kind of articles do you write?”

“A bit of everything,” Alessandro replied, “I work for a daily
paper,
La Corriere della Sera
, The Evening Mail. Recently I’ve covered a
lot of politics which is depressing.”

“Why?”

Alessandro raised an eyebrow and studied Kay with thinly veiled
amusement. “Does anything about what goes on in Italy ever reach New Zealand?”

“Not much,” Kay admitted. Then, feeling he was chastising her for
not being up to date on world politics, added. “But then the Italian government
probably only publicize what they want the rest of the world to know. The worst
stuff gets airbrushed out. Most countries are like that.”

That comment made Alessandro Falcone finally sit up and pay
attention. He studied her face for a moment before he nodded.

“You're right,” he admitted.

“Dinner is served!” Melissa stepped back out onto the balcony
carrying a tray of
bruschette
topped with chopped tomato and basil,
“I’ll be right back with the wine.”

“So what does the New Zealand government hide from the rest of the
world?” Alessandro asked, handing Kay a plate.

Kay shrugged, “not much really. It’s a quiet place, there isn’t
much to hide.”

“Sounds nice,” Alessandro replied.

Kay looked hard at him, searching for a trace of sarcasm or
coldness but found him sincere.

“It is,” Kay admitted, “although I suppose when you grow up with
it you take what we have for granted.”

“That's human nature,” Alessandro stood up and took the bottle of
chilled white wine Melissa had passed him. He wedged the corkscrew into the
bottleneck and started to open it.

“What’s human nature?” Melissa asked, intrigued.

“Taking things for granted,” Kay replied, hoping her intended
double-meaning wouldn’t be lost on her sister. It wasn’t. Melissa frowned and
Kay felt a minor stab of victory. One point for the home team at last.

Kay's innuendo caused a pall of discomfort to settle over the
table but the food gave them something to focus on. Vincenzo was a fantastic
cook. After the
bruschette
he served them spaghetti in a tangy tomato
sauce followed by sea bass cooked in rock-salt, served with a green salad. They
finished their meal with a tiny glass of chilled
limoncello –
lemon liqueur
from the Amalfi Coast.

The sun had long since set and the sky overhead had darkened to
deep purple. The air was still sultry but there was a softness to it. After
prosecco,
white wine and
limoncello,
Kay was now feeling as if she could fall
asleep in her chair. The conversation moved around her and she could hear
Melissa attempting to use some of her newly acquired Italian on Vincenzo and
Alessandro.

Kay noticed that Alessandro was coldly formal and standoffish with
Melissa, while Melissa appeared oblivious. Vincenzo drew her attention whenever
he was near. Although the brothers shared many physical similarities, Kay could
see their characters were vastly different. Although she was trying valiantly,
it was hard to dislike Vincenzo Falcone. He was easy-going and warm with a dry
wit – and he looked at Melissa as if she were the most incredible creature he
had ever set eyes on. Kay found it difficult to watch them.

“Kay is starting to wilt,” Melissa finally noted when Kay succumbed
to fatigue and dozed for a few moments, “you’d better see her home Alessandro.”

Kay jolted awake, got to her feet and felt the world teeter
slightly. It had been a mistake to drink when she was jet-lagged. The alcohol
hadn’t affected anyone else. They had all drunk slowly and savored the wine
with dinner. Kay had been so tense recently it took very little to disturb her
equilibrium. Trying her best to appear sober, she retrieved her bag and said
goodbye to Vincenzo, who insisted on giving her the Italian two-cheek kiss. She
gave her sister a brief hug at the door.

“I’ll meet you for lunch tomorrow,” Melissa promised, “I’ll pick
you up at your hotel at one, okay?”

Kay followed Alessandro out to the lift and they travelled down in
silence. Alessandro’s momentary burst of manners appeared to have deserted him
and Kay could see he was brooding again. This time she was too tired and woozy
to care. Let him sulk. 

Perhaps it was the wine that had relaxed her but Kay found herself
enjoying the ride home. Rome’s streets were much quieter now and a half moon
had risen high above the city. Alessandro’s body was tense but Kay was so tired
she leaned against him. The feel of his strong back was treacherously
comforting. How long was it since she had enjoyed the heat of a man’s body
against hers? Years. Far too long.

Kay watched the city unfold as they drove north and by the time
they reached the river she was enraptured by Rome. The waters of the Tiber
glittered in the moonlight. In the distance, lit up ghostly white, was the dome
of St. Peter’s. Somewhere, a church bell chimed. It had just gone eleven. Now
Kay was beginning to understand why people raved about the beauty of this city.
It was indeed timeless as if the passing of the centuries meant nothing to its
soul.

Alessandro maneuvered the Vespa through Trastevere’s tangled web
of streets and pulled up outside Albergo Gelsomina
.
He dismounted with
the practiced ease of someone who had ridden a scooter since before he could
drive a car. Kay attempted to follow him with the same aplomb but caught her
foot as she swung her leg over. She would have sprawled across the cobbles if
Alessandro hadn’t caught her. Once again she found herself in unwanted physical
contact with him, and once again her body betrayed her. Her stomach swooped as
if she was on a swing. This time it was worse, for her face smashed up against
the wall of his chest. He grabbed her under the arms and pulled her up so she
was facing him.