In Italy for Love

Chapter 16

16

Jules went to sleep full – her belly, her mind and also somehow her soul. When she awoke in the night for a sip of water, she heard movement downstairs and that twinge in her heart made itself felt. Before she managed to fall back to sleep, her thoughts settled once again on Alex’s comment last night that had made her heart beat strangely.

I was having some problems when I came back from London .

His haggard expression had revealed more than he’d meant to, she guessed. Yes, he’d lost someone, but something had happened to him too and she couldn’t bear thinking about it, but she also couldn’t stop wondering about the significance of that small confession and the shadows in his gorgeous eyes.

The following day she had no plans and swung her stiff legs over the side of the bed slowly. After wrestling with the latch, she pulled open both sets of windows to the seep of frigid air, making her shiver as she pushed the creaky shutters. The church bells rang out into the stillness of the cool Sunday morning where no one ventured out of the house unless they had to. The afternoon would be soon enough.

But to her surprise, when she trudged down the stairs in an extra pair of socks, the cuffs of her threadbare hoodie over her hands for warmth, Alex was already up and preparing to leave.

‘I made you a coffee,’ he said, his expression hesitant.

Something had shifted last night and she wasn’t sure where they’d go from here. ‘Thanks.’

‘Uhm, I’m going to the market.’

‘I thought the market was on Saturday.’

‘Not that one,’ he said, scratching his head. ‘Il Baule del Diavolo – the devil’s… suitcase? It’s the monthly antiques market.’

‘You want another accordion?’ she teased, enjoying the flash of a smile over his lips.

‘Always.’ He paused, turning to her with his coffee cup halfway to his lips. ‘Do you want to come?’

‘Sure.’

She didn’t overthink it. She quickly fed Arco, attached his lead and followed Alex out into the sunshine that was already burning off the chill of the morning. Walking with him through the old town reminded her of their first date, but she stuffed her free hand into her pocket and refused to dwell on that.

‘How are your fingers?’ he asked as they passed the main piazza where the cafes were opening up.

‘Better – thanks.’ She wanted to ask him how he’d slept, but suspected that topic would be off limits.

When they emerged from the narrow lane, the square beside the cathedral was filled with market stalls, from tables and gazebos to the occasional simple blanket on the ground – all of them crammed with tarnished, faded and downright old… stuff.

Alex waved to a stallholder with a series of antique glass lamps and then glanced awkwardly at Jules. ‘Eh, you don’t have to stay with me. The accordion talk might bore you.’

‘Where have I heard that before?’ she teased, before she’d thought better of it. It was nearly worth the ache of memory to see his cheeks blossom pink. She turned to the nearest stall, pretending to be interested in… Wait, was that a real cat in a wicker basket?

Quickly leading Arco away, she wandered the stalls, admiring the old canvas-bound books she couldn’t understand, the painted, gold-trimmed soup tureens, endless plates and teacups, doilies and table runners and rocking chairs. She could picture all of it at Alex’s place – and she knew exactly how much Luca would hate it all, which brought a smile to her lips.

A flash of colour partly hidden in a pile of woollen jumpers caught her eye and she reached for it absently, pulling out a chunky knit cardigan that looked as though it had once belonged to a Sherpa. It had rainbow stripes in thick wool and a baggy fit and she was certain the person who wore it could be outdoors all day and never grow cold. It was rough-hewn and rugged, words she suddenly felt could describe her and she just had to try it on. If it fit, she would buy it.

The owner of the stall, it turned out, was from over the border in Austria, but spoke Italian and English fluently and directed her immediately towards the full-length mirror, and even took Arco’s lead for a moment so she could tug on the heavy cardigan. What she saw in the mirror made her grin.

She might never find the starry-eyed Jules she’d been fresh out of uni, falling in love with a handsome Italian, but she liked the woman in the old, colourful cardigan – the woman she would be. Perhaps she was sometimes ‘brutta’ – and bitter – but that was authentic.

‘Fifteen euros,’ the stall owner said to her. ‘It’s pure wool.’

Even if it hadn’t been an eminently reasonable price, she probably would have bought it, her dwindling bank balance be damned. For pure wool and a glimpse into her own heart, she happily handed over two banknotes.

Wandering the rest of the market, it became clear she truly was visiting a place at the crossroads of Europe. There were woodcarvings from the Alps, Murano glass, Russian orthodox crosses in gold, Meissen porcelain – and Limoges porcelain and Bohemian porcelain – and coins and notes from the former Yugoslavia.

When she spotted an accordion, she got so excited, she had to admit to herself that she’d been looking for an excuse to go and find Alex. Except she’d drifted a long way from where she’d said goodbye to him in the Piazza del Duomo – and they somehow still hadn’t exchanged phone numbers.

Dodging meandering punters, relaxed Sunday locals and tourists who distinguished themselves by speaking other languages – or standard Italian – Jules picked her way back in the direction of the cathedral, keeping her eyes up. She should have realised it wouldn’t be too difficult to find him. Not far from the statue of Julius Caesar, she caught sight of his curly head, several inches taller than everyone around him.

‘Alex!’ she called out, rushing in his direction. Arco picked up on the game and frolicked ahead, his tongue lolling. ‘Alex!’

He whirled around. ‘What? What’s wrong?’

‘Nothing! Don’t worry,’ she said breathlessly. ‘I found you an accordion.’

His smile stretched slowly. ‘You did?’

She grasped his hand without thinking. ‘It’s this way! Come on! Before someone else buys it.’

‘I don’t think we need to worry about that.’

When she turned back, he was studying their joined hands and she hurriedly dropped his. ‘You can’t be certain!’

‘All right, I’m coming,’ he grumbled, but this time with a smile that reminded her of sitting by the fire in Maddalena’s dining room – or roasting chestnuts on the stove.

As she was having a day off from her money worries, she insisted on paying for it, calling it ‘rent’ just to make him roll his eyes. But she suspected that if she’d divulged her real reason for giving it to him – so he’d have something to remember her by – he wouldn’t have accepted it.

By the time they returned home for lunch, he was the proud owner of a red and gold Fantini piano accordion, only slightly not working. And Jules had started to wonder what the future version of her would have to remember Alex by.

On the following Tuesday, Jules made her mad dash to Parma for a ten-minute passport interview at the local police station, while Arco stayed rather too happily behind with Alex. She wore her new cardigan, freshly hand-washed, and arranged her hair in a messy ponytail, just in case she had the opportunity to disappoint Luca’s mother one more time.

But the closer she got to her old frazione, the part of the city where the B&B was situated, the smaller she felt. What if the bureaucrat in the interview took issue with her misshapen old cardigan? She could be too colourful for the country of Gucci and Dolce & Gabbana. And if Luca saw her, his mouth would twist in a sneer she still sometimes pictured in her dreams – her bad ones.

Returning to Parma also made her realise she’d been avoiding thinking about the sale of the building. Luca hadn’t contacted her even once, which she would have thought was a good thing, except she didn’t know what that meant for her investment.

With a shot of panic, she realised she would cut her losses and run so she never had to face him again. She wished she could have brought Arco with her – but no, he would have drawn attention to her and she couldn’t risk Luca seeing her.

She got through her appointment with a combination of blank smiles and ‘Puoi ripetere, per favore – lentamente,’ to have the important bits repeated slowly, then she bolted for the train back home.

Home?

The journey passed in a blur, even though it took five hours to travel between Parma and Udine – longer that day, as one of her trains was delayed. She had her e-reader with her, but she couldn’t have said what happened in the pages she apparently read. All she knew was that the fog in her brain gradually cleared the farther she got from Luca, and she asked herself if perhaps she was in a worse state than she’d realised.

I was having some problems.

Her mind had been in such a tangle that it was only when she arrived at the station in Udine and went to buy a ticket for the retro diesel railway that chuffed east to Cividale that she realised how late it was and that she’d missed the last train.

After a leap of panic up her throat, she took a deep breath and considered her options. It was past eleven o’clock. She refused to disturb Alex, Berengario or Maddalena so late – which meant her only option was a taxi.

When the taxi pulled up at Alex’s courtyard, she placed her card on the reader with dismay, imagining her meagre balance ticking down by another thirty euros she’d never see again. Stepping under the low brick archway, she felt as though she’d been gone much longer than a day, although the tree looked the same as it had that morning, the plump orange fruit more prominent now more leaves had fallen. She shivered with the sudden cold of the late evening.

It was nearly midnight and although the shutters in the courtyard were all firmly closed – except her own on the first floor of Alex’s building – she suspected someone would still hear her footsteps.

And Alex was probably awake.

But she fetched her key quietly, just in case. Of course, it wasn’t quietly enough. An alarmed bark sounded, followed by frantic scratching. Before she could even turn the latch, the door flew open and Arco made his best attempt to bowl her over.

‘Hey, boy,’ she crooned, dropping to a crouch to give him a thorough rub. ‘I missed you too.’ She let him give her a gentle lick on the chin and looped her arms around his little body. Boy, she’d needed a hug. ‘I bet you had a nice day at the bike shop.’

‘He did.’

Her gaze snapped up to see Alex leaning in the doorway. He wore a tight cotton undershirt and baggy tracksuit bottoms that hung loose and, with his forearm propped against the frame and his other hand on his hip, Jules could do nothing but appreciate the definition in his arms, his big-knuckled hands, the height of him.

Wow . The attraction was really not going away.

Then her eyes lifted to his face and she scrambled to her feet. ‘Were you asleep? God, I’m sorry. My train was delayed and then I had to find a taxi and I really didn’t think I’d be home this?—’

‘You should have called me.’

‘Alex, it’s nearly midnight. If you were asleep?—’

‘I wasn’t asleep – well, not properly.’ His hair was unruly, his cheeks stubbled and his eyelids heavy.

‘Were you waiting for me? I should have sent you a message?—’

‘Eh, shh,’ he said, rubbing a hand over his face. She should have felt insulted at his brusque interruption, but it was somehow preferable to Luca’s smirk, which she’d been seeing behind her eyelids all day. ‘This is your house too. How I sleep shouldn’t concern you.’

That was the problem: she was concerned, even though she tried not to be.

‘Can I…?’ Have a hug? She swallowed. ‘…come in?’

He straightened in surprise. ‘Of course. Sorry. Maybe I am half asleep.’

As she brushed past him, a creak from across the courtyard made her glance up to see a shutter closing and she froze, remembering all the witnesses they had. Alex was looking in the same direction and with both of them squeezed in the doorway, she couldn’t help thinking about giving the nosy Signora Cudrig more of a show. She could just slip her arms around his waist and?—

Arco jumped up, scratching at her hip as though to remind her that he was supposed to be part of any snuggling that happened. She stumbled into the doorway, tripping over Alex’s foot and grabbing his shirt for balance, as he scooped an arm around her and staggered in after.

In a split-second decision she would never have made with a clear head, she leaned into him, pressing her cheek to his shoulder.

Breathing out for what felt like the first time that day, she didn’t even mind if he pushed her away after a second. His soft shirt, the warmth of his body was what she’d wanted and she’d found it.

But he didn’t push her away.

The arm around her tightened, then another joined it. He shuffled them inside and toed the door closed, sagging against the wall in the hallway, his head falling back. She wasn’t even sure if they were friends, but he definitely hugged her back – soft and real.

‘Today—’ he began, and she had to give him credit for picking up on her weird mood. ‘—was it…? How did it go?’

‘Fine. Processing the application should take about ten days.’

‘Ah.’

Those two words, ten days , seemed to be hanging in the air.

‘Did you see him?’

She shook her head against his chest. ‘Thankfully not. It was bad enough knowing he was there.’

‘It’s over. You did it.’

‘We still have to sell the property. I’ll have to call him soon.’ She wished her voice didn’t sound so thin.

‘If you want me to beat him up before you leave…’ He lifted his hand and flexed it and she couldn’t help but laugh.

‘Attila would probably do a better job of beating him up.’

‘True.’ He wiggled his fingers, his smile tight. ‘Accordion hands.’

She peered up at him without removing her cheek from his shirt. ‘Have you got the new one working?’

Shaking his head, he said, ‘I only just finished my student’s instrument.’

‘I think that one needs an exorcism.’

‘Speaking of which…’

She jerked her head up. ‘Do I want to hear what you have to say?’

‘Yes,’ he said, stroking a soothing finger along her temple before snatching his hand away again as he realised what he’d done. ‘There’s a walking tour of Cividale on the evening of the 31st of October. You should keep it free. Berengario is taking one of the routes. There’ll be some music afterwards.’

‘Sounds great. The olives will be harvested by then. Hopefully Maddalena will take her foot off the accelerator.’

‘She rarely does that.’ His arms tightened again. ‘It’s a shame you’ll miss San Martino. We have a big fair with craft stalls and local businesses – and eat pumpkin and drink wine.’

‘Any excuse to drink wine?’

‘You don’t need an excuse to drink wine,’ he quipped. Stifling a yawn, he sighed deeply enough that Jules felt the movement against her cheek.

‘Are you going to sleep?’

‘Bed? Yes. Sleep? I never know,’ he said with a tight smile.

‘Want to keep doing this… horizontally? Just the hugging? Nothing more,’ she managed to say, even though the words were pulled out from under her mortification like a magician’s tablecloth.

‘Julia…’ he began.

‘I think you should probably call me Jules,’ she mumbled into his shirt. ‘No one actually calls me Julia.’

‘Jules,’ he said experimentally, his deep voice forming the syllables with a devastating ruefulness. ‘I don’t think that’s the best idea.’

‘Of course it’s not the best idea! But I thought—’ She drew away, ignoring how cold she suddenly felt.

‘I only meant…’ He dropped his hand from where he’d clutched her arm for a moment. ‘You know I don’t sleep well. I wouldn’t want to disturb you.’

‘What if I don’t mind being disturbed?’ she said, but her voice was tentative. She wasn’t sure if they were talking about cuddling all night or Alex finally telling her what had happened that made him think he had to be sad and crabby all the time. She still wasn’t sure if she really wanted to let him tell her.

But he shook his head with a faint smile. ‘You’re leaving soon. Get your sleep – upstairs. Berengario will be coming to pick you up early as usual.’

As she followed his instructions and trudged upstairs to the soundtrack of Arco’s claws clicking and the wood creaking, all she could think was how much she wished she’d kissed him first.