In Italy for Love

Chapter 8

8

While chaos reigned at Due Pini, business was slow in Luigi’s bike shop, where Alex worked. The man himself was out with his friends from the motor club, leaving Alex to ring up the couple of purchases while he kept on top of the repairs in the workshop out the back. Autumn was a popular season for repairs which Alex always felt had some deeper meaning.

Catching himself, he shook off the thought. He shouldn’t be looking for deeper meaning in anything, especially not something as prosaic as the changing of the seasons, or he’d soon be off in his own world imagining there was symbolism in his new life repairing other people’s brakes and tyres and lamps.

Wow, he’d needed the break from his own company last night. With oil on his fingertips, a multi-tool in his hand and a satisfying project in front of him, he was content, almost… happy. The sex had something to do with his mood, undoubtedly, but he refused to think of that cause and effect. He hadn’t slept with Julia to make himself happy. It had just been… the natural next step.

Not for the first time that day, he asked himself where she could be now and what she was thinking about the night before. The other question that swirled through his thoughts was: had last night been so easy and wonderful despite their ‘no expectations’ rule or because of it?

Whatever the answer, he still experienced the occasional shower of goosebumps remembering everything that had happened, and had to shake himself back into the present to concentrate on the bolts and screws and cables.

In the mid-afternoon, the bell over the shop door chimed and he called out a cheerful greeting to the customer while he finished polishing a carbon fibre frame. When he emerged onto the shop floor, he recognised Fulvio Quercig, the father of one of his students – the students old Berengario would probably never take back now Alex had started filling in for him.

He shook hands with the man. ‘What can I do for you?’ Picking up a battered leather case, the man placed it on the counter and Alex frowned. ‘The key stuck again?’

‘No, the keys are fine after you fixed them last time, but now it won’t shut up. Plays a note constantly. I’m surprised it didn’t drone at me in the car all the way here.’

‘Don’t worry. Sounds like there’s a pallet open. It shouldn’t be a difficult fix. Leave it with me and I’ll take a look tonight.’

‘I’m not convinced the thing isn’t possessed, to be honest. Gianni joked about it, but barely a week’s gone by when this thing didn’t make some pretty other-worldly sounds – and I’m not talking about Gianni’s practice.’

‘It’s not haunted, Si?r Quercig,’ he assured the man with a grin, using the local version of ‘signor’. ‘If you think it is, you’ll have to take it back to Berengario. I don’t do accordion exorcism, only repair.’

‘You were so busy last time, I tried Berengario, but he said you’re the only one who repairs accordions around here now.’

‘What?’ Alex shook his head with a fond smile, thinking of the old man who’d taught him everything he knew about the instrument.

‘Wants to retire, he said,’ Si?r Quercig continued.

‘Berengario will never retire,’ Alex contradicted him emphatically, picking up the leather accordion case and stowing it behind the counter to take home with him later.

‘He probably just had a date with Elena,’ the other man said with a wink.

‘Or with a friend and a bottle of wine,’ Alex agreed, although the man was right that Berengario and Elena had been inseparable since they’d officially become a couple, as juvenile as that expression sounded for a pair in their eighties.

‘At least you’re taking over the business,’ Si?r Quercig said, slapping him on the arm before turning to leave.

Alex’s mouth dropped open to protest, but the man was already walking away. He wasn’t taking over from Berengario. His old mentor was part of the musical fabric of the city, while Alex was… a bicycle repair man who dabbled in busking and teaching accordion to the awkward kids at school. Cividale had got on fine without him during the years he’d been away.

Luigi appeared with a cigarillo hanging from his lips just before closing time, helping to bring the bicycles for hire back inside for the night and counting the money. He shooed Alex out of the shop twenty minutes before the end of his shift.

‘I’m lucky to have you, boy, and I see you have a hot date tonight.’

Alex’s gaze shot up, a denial on his lips. Had Luigi found out about Julia somehow? But he wasn’t seeing her tonight – or ever again. He was gripped by a sudden panic that someone might have seen them, and the news would be across town by the end of the night as all of his friends and acquaintances discussed his miserable love life over their tajùt on the piazza. For a moment, he wished he could meet Julia again tonight for another drink, as consolation for being the object of pity and gossip.

But the panic ebbed again when he saw Luigi’s eyes on the accordion case behind the counter. Those were his usual evening plans: a date in front of the TV with his pliers and screwdrivers and beeswax and someone’s grandfather’s instrument.

It was a miracle he hadn’t bored Julia stiff the evening before. Perhaps she’d just been nice about it because she wanted to get into his underwear. He could live with that.

Hefting the old case, he gave Luigi a lazy salute and called out the usual ‘Mandi,’ because the shop was proudly Friulian and ‘ Ciao ’ was only for customers from the rest of Italy. The last rays of the sun painted the sky with slivers of orange as he stepped out of the shop and the wrought-iron street lamps of the old town switched on, illuminating his short walk home.

He wondered if Attila was still angry with him for inviting a dog to his house last night. The cat had regarded him with distinct dissatisfaction that morning, even eating his breakfast with his tail curled in clear disdain. Although Attila was a Persian mix and always looked mildly peeved, even when he was content.

Waving to the owner of the pet salon as she shut up shop for the evening, he wondered what Arco was doing right now and who he was licking. He’d probably already left Italy with his mistress. Given the position of Cividale, she could be in any number of countries: Austria, Slovenia, Croatia, Switzerland, Germany – even Bosnia or Hungary were possibilities.

All of which made it seem strange that he hadn’t crossed a border in three years. He didn’t need to, he assured himself. Udine was a big enough city for practical errands, the beach at Grado was only half an hour away for a summer dip, and in winter he had the Dolomites to the north. He wasn’t stuck; he was home. He needed that now.

Elena was at her window when he arrived at the gate under the archway but she disappeared inside her apartment before he could call up a greeting or ask after Berengario, her beau, who was undoubtedly in the apartment with her.

The windows of his building were at least eighty years old and everywhere paint was peeling and wood and glass were warped. Perhaps it was for the best that Julia had arrived here in the dark – and he had kept her effectively distracted.

But that evening there were people by the persimmon tree – three people even, not just Si?r Mauri puffing on a furtive cigarette while his wife wasn’t looking. Make that three people and a dog. Alex froze, concern and anticipation prickling up his spine. He recognised those sneakers, the short ponytail – that place on her neck . He’d spent all day reminding himself she was gone, but… here she was.

Arco saw him first, giving a bark and turning in an excited circle. Alex snapped himself into action when he recognised Berengario with them. He didn’t want to be caught staring, nonplussed, at Julia when she was supposed to be a stranger. But what was she doing there? With Berengario, of all people? Or was it a coincidence that his old mentor was here as well and… was that Aunt Maddalena?

While he absently greeted the ecstatic dog, Maddalena and Berengario both attempted conversations with him at once.

‘There he is!’

‘Alex! We were starting to think?—’

‘—you didn’t say anything about your young woman ?—’

‘—except there was a burst pipe and?—’

‘—it’s none of my business why she’s not staying with you, but she?—’

‘She can stay with you, now.’

Alex struggled to decipher the rush of words, but his thoughts got stuck on the ones that didn’t make sense: his young woman? And Berengario admitting something was none of his business?

Julia turned slowly, a pained expression on her face, and only then did he notice that her hair was limp and knotty, a smear of dirt was on her cheek and her old jeans were caked in mud. When she lifted a hand to swipe at a strand of hair, he saw her skin was raw.

‘What happened to you?’ he asked, peering into her face. Only belatedly did he attempt to soften his expression. Her only response was an overwhelmed look in the direction of the two older people. Maddalena’s question finally penetrated his thoughts and he glanced back at his aunt. ‘“She can stay with me”?’ he repeated, dumbfounded.

He mustn’t have quite achieved the disbelieving inflection he’d been aiming for, because Maddalena sighed with relief. ‘Oh, grazie al cielo, I felt so bad for her and I didn’t know how I would manage?—’

Berengario stopped her with an affectionate whack with the backs of his fingers. ‘I told you everything would be all right. I suppose these things might be complicated if you haven’t been together long,’ he said, peering between Alex and Julia with the warm smile of a priest at a wedding. Switching to English, he said, ‘Alex is as good as they come, Giulietta,’ with a glint in his eye that swung Alex’s thoughts back to the other confusing part of the chaotic conversation.

‘But she’s not?—’

Berengario leaned close and said, ‘Your fantate is tired and hungry, young man,’ in a low voice, using that suggestive ‘your’ in front of the even more suggestive ‘young woman’ in Furlan. ‘If it weren’t for her today, Maddalena would never have managed, so take her inside and deal with yourself later.’

Alex was even more confused now, but Berengario was right about one thing: he had to speak to Julia without an audience if he was going to get an answer that actually made sense. He unlocked the door and allowed Berengario to usher him inside. After pressing a quick kiss to Aunt Maddalena’s cheek in hello and goodbye, he then found the door closed firmly in his face, Berengario’s worryingly mischievous grin the last thing he saw. He wouldn’t have been surprised to hear the bolt slipping into place to lock them in together – except that would be pointless, since he had a key to his own house.

After taking a moment to breathe out heavily, his hand resting on the door, he glanced up at Julia. Still wearing her tatty backpack, a bag falling down her arm, she looked as bewildered as he felt. And pretty, with her lips pressed into half a smile and her hair mussed. He found memories of last night on every inch of her face – memories that made him a little light-headed.

But it also made him woozy to think that Berengario knew he’d slept with someone, although how the old man had met Julia was still a mystery.

‘I’ll leave as soon as they’ve gone.’

He snapped back to the present with a frown. ‘What do you mean? I thought you needed to stay here tonight.’

‘I can go back to Maria Grazia’s place. Maddalena just felt bad because she couldn’t offer me any accommodation.’

His brow drew even tighter. ‘Wait, you’re the temporary worker at the farm? You said you were leaving.’

‘Take it easy. I didn’t mean to come back! And I didn’t know that out of the hundreds of farms in the area, I happened to end up with people you know. It was all an accident, okay? I know we weren’t supposed to see each other again after last night and now we’ll really never see each other again. I promise.’

He panicked when she headed for the door, rushing to stop her with his hand splayed on the cracked blue paint. ‘Look, you can stay for a night. Berengario said you worked hard at the farm today and it’s the least I can do… for Maddalena. You’re supposed to be paid in accommodation and food, right? You’re a volunteer on that programme?’

She nodded, her eyes flitting around the hallway as though deciding whether to run.

‘If you stay, I don’t mean in my bed— There’s no expectation of a repeat—’ He gulped.

‘What?’

‘There’s a separate part of the house you can stay in,’ he managed more comprehensibly. ‘I’m not suggesting we…’

Her shoulders dropped a fraction, making him wonder what had brought her to this far corner of Italy. She wasn’t the backpacker he’d taken her for. Perhaps she’d left as much out of their conversation last night as he had. ‘At least you aren’t making assumptions,’ she mumbled.

‘Was there some kind of misunderstanding? About us?’

‘Oh boy, was there ever!’ she said emphatically. ‘I tried to clear it up, but they wouldn’t listen! I wanted to knock their stubborn heads together!’

He smiled faintly. ‘You sound like you’ve got to know them well already. But I don’t understand why they think you’re my… you know.’

Her brows rose. ‘You can’t even say the word “girlfriend”?’

‘Apparently not,’ he said flatly.

‘It was not my fault,’ she insisted. ‘We were both clear what last night was about and it wasn’t a grand romance. But I assume you were right to be wary of your nosy neighbours? Berengario said he saw you… in the doorway as I was leaving. Does he live here or something?’

Mortification shivered down his spine. ‘No, but his girlfriend does. Damn it! ’ He should never have brought Julia back here, even though the alternative would have been the walk of shame past Maria Grazia.

‘I told them it was just casual – I even said “just sex” at one point because they didn’t seem to be listening.’

Alex choked, imagining how that one had gone down with Berengario – and Maddalena! Puh, it was a mess! He’d been trying for years to get them to stop worrying about him and now this!

‘Perhaps it would have been best if we hadn’t—’ He cut himself off when he caught the flinch she tried to hide. ‘I didn’t mean it like that,’ he tried – but how had he meant it? ‘I am… happy to see you again,’ he added, rather annoyed to have to admit that to himself when he’d been stuffing those feelings away in favour of something more constructive.

She chuckled as though she didn’t believe him and patted his arm. ‘Yeah, sure. It’s okay. If you have a spare room, then I’ll stay tonight, but I’ll get out of your hair tomorrow.’

‘Get out of my?—?’

‘I’ll find another solution in the morning.’ Her voice trailed off as she spoke.

‘A solution to what?’

‘My life!’ she said with a groan.

He eyed her, picking up on that world-weariness again, along with a hint of desperation that disturbed him. ‘There’s plenty of space upstairs,’ he reassured her. ‘The only thing is—’ Ah, he hadn’t thought this through properly. ‘The plumbing up there isn’t working.’

To his surprise, she laughed – full and throaty, bringing back memories of the night before. ‘What is it with the plumbing in this place? No water will be an improvement on too much water at Due Pini. I can come down here for a tap.’

‘The bathroom too. You’ll have to use mine.’

‘I promise to use water sparingly and not leave my shaver lying around.’

‘That’s not what I—’ He cut himself off, catching her twitch of a smile. ‘Let’s go find you a room.’

‘Thank you,’ she said through pursed lips. ‘Just for tonight – I promise.’

He glanced over his shoulder as he grabbed a set of keys and headed for the stairs. ‘This is the second night in a row you’ve promised to leave tomorrow.’

Her response was a sigh. ‘I didn’t imagine leaving could be this hard.’