In Italy for Love

Chapter 37

37

All the rational thoughts in the world couldn’t stop Jules from frantically combing the guests for a familiar head of wavy brown hair. Her gaze swerved to the accordion-player, her heart in her throat, but he was a reedy older man with a shiny, black Hohner accordion, not Alex’s Victoria or the old Fantini he’d restored.

Of course he wasn’t there. He was looking after Arco – and hopefully himself. Getting in touch with the Fogolar Furlan was just a way for Jules to stay connected, which she’d been looking forward to anyway before she’d briefly got it into her head that he might be there.

‘Did Berengario put you up to this?’ Jules asked Alice as the woman steered her to a table. Conversation had resumed, but Jules could still feel curious looks and twinkling eyes on her.

‘Berengario? Yes, he sent us an email saying we should expect you.’

Jules glanced at the sky with a huff. ‘Still interfering from thousands of miles away.’ She only wondered how he’d known she would come today, or perhaps he’d just hoped – but for what? That she’d find her new Friulian family? ‘What you said about Alex… Does everyone know him?’

‘Not yet,’ was all she said. ‘Here, have a sausage.’

‘I’ve been dying for frico, actually. And please tell me you have gubana.’

‘Elisabetta over there makes the best frico. She sells it at the markets. And yes, there will be gubana. Here, come and sit with Antonella. She’s from Udine.’

Jules was pleasantly overwhelmed as the late morning wore into the afternoon with music from the indefatigable accordion-player and conversations in a wild mix of languages. The grey-haired members were keen for every detail she could pass on from the patrie, the old country, and her voice gave out after a couple of hours, leading Alice to place a schnapps glass of something strong and peach-flavoured into her hand that she knew she had to be careful with since she was driving.

At some point, the official business of the AGM commenced and in the heat, with a full stomach, Jules pleasantly zoned out. She was glad at least that no one had thought it even slightly strange that this Calabrian Volpe who couldn’t speak Italian well wanted to join in with their festivities – and that she’d had so much to tell them about the forest and gnot dai muarts and the olive harvest. She hadn’t told her family this much about Luca and the B&B and she’d spent years working for that.

If only Cividale really were her home, she could have stayed and given Alex more time. Maybe one day he would have?—

‘Mandi, sorry I’m late. There was a delay.’

Jules froze at the sound of a deep voice, speaking between heavy breaths. If she was dreaming, she wanted to stay asleep for long enough to catch a glimpse. He was saying something in Furlan now, in a low voice, so she had no hope of understanding anyway.

She sensed a ripple of interest through the people sitting at her table and warily opened her eyes to find them watching her. Her hair stood on end as she wondered whether Berengario had planned some kind of stunt with a video call. Would she turn and find a cardboard cut-out of the person she loved and an apology for letting her go?

That would be nice. She had to stop her heart from jumping erratically in her chest as though he were actually standing behind her in real life.

She heard a muffled thump and a sigh and then the president of the association cleared his throat and continued. ‘Just a brief interruption to our proceedings to welcome our newest member, who has just arrived from Fri?l – by which I truly mean just arrived .’ He chuckled and goosebumps raced over Jules’s skin at the sound. ‘I told you all about him earlier. He was a member of the coro alpino and brings his accordion and I’m looking forward to the musical enrichment of our meetings. He’s moved to Australia for the best reason imaginable – for love. Welcome to Brisbane, Alessandro Mattelig!’

Jules still sat unmoving, although her vision swam in the heavy Queensland sunshine. After weeks of dampening every hope, of telling herself she was hanging on to nothing and trying to be rational, the big idiot had been making the most foolish decision of all.

Turning slowly, her breath shallow and fitful, she saw him, really standing there, in jeans and short sleeves, his hair mussed and his shirt rumpled and an enormous backpack at his feet, along with the accordion case she recognised from the day they’d met.

His eyes were trained on her, soft and bright and wary with hope – for the future, their future. He had some explaining to do, but she was looking forward to hearing him out. Finally she was truly at home.

She was more tanned than the last time he’d seen her. Her messy ponytail was the same, but he’d never seen her in shorts and a T-shirt before. He was impatient to see Jules in every type of weather, annoyed that he’d missed the past month, excited for her to show him where she’d grown up – just as soon as she accepted that he’d solved their problem in this unexpected way, the only way he’d been satisfied would be fair to her.

Her disbelief lingered longer than he’d anticipated. He was taking a big risk on the basis of two words she’d spoken while half asleep.

As she rose out of her seat, he was torn between admiring her long limbs in summer clothes and succumbing to the worry that this wouldn’t work. It would feel sudden to her, his transformation from stubborn, grieving widower to Friulian émigré in Australia.

‘Jules,’ he murmured as she stumbled in his direction.

Coming to a stop in front of him, she lifted her chin and looked him square in the face and he couldn’t believe he’d ever doubted how much she meant to him. Then she gave him a shove with both hands, hard enough to make him stagger.

‘All this time I’ve been trying to get over you!’

‘I hope your efforts were as unsuccessful as me trying not to fall in love with you in the first place.’

‘What about everything you’ve left behind? You can’t just move here!’

Taking a risk, he grazed his thumb along her forearm and gripped it lightly. ‘It turns out Australia needs draughtsmen. I’ve got an invitation to apply for a working visa and I can stay temporarily for now. Berengario is looking after Attila and Arco, but we can pick up both of them in a few months. I think they’re kind of attached to each other – although Attila pretends they aren’t.’

Her lips wobbled. ‘You don’t know anything about Australia.’

‘I know you’re here.’

‘But Laura isn’t.’

The caution in her tone both broke his heart and melted it. ‘Yes, she is,’ he contradicted her gently. ‘I carry her around with me, it seems. She doesn’t have to haunt our old home town – and neither do I. It turns out I’m not dead, not even a little bit.’ The frantic beat of his heart was proof of that.

She gripped his shirt in her fist, staring at it. ‘Aren’t you afraid? What if something happens to one of us?’ Her brow twisted and every little thing she did reminded him of why he loved her.

Taking her face in his hands, he said softly, ‘I’m sorry I held back from you for so long – and I’m so sorry I convinced you I was done with love after Laura.’ He paused, holding her gaze until the familiar sparks zipped along his skin. ‘I’m not done with love. The way I feel about you is proof, no matter how much I pretended it wasn’t happening. Yes, I’m afraid. But I want to be with you long enough that something does happen to one of us.’

Her eyes crashed shut and her forehead fell to his shoulder and he marvelled at how stupid he’d been to deny that this was his future – their future – to think he could stop himself falling in love with her.

‘I want life with you,’ he said softly. ‘And if that means death parts us, then… that’s just the way things are.’

‘God, damn it, Alex. You keep breaking my heart,’ she said with a choke.

‘I don’t mean to— I don’t want to.’

‘Aw, enough with the psychoanalysis and get onto the good bit! Some of us got up in the middle of the night for this!’

Alex snapped his head up in surprise. They found Alice holding out a phone.

‘Berengario?’

Jules snorted a laugh. ‘It seems everyone knows everyone – even outside of Friuli.’

The little image on the screen showed Berengario squinting back at them from Alex’s kitchen, Elena and Maddalena in the background and a silhouette of Attila on the windowsill. A bark sounded, an enthusiastic exclamation mark from Arco at hearing the voices of his pack.

‘I can’t get away from my nosy neighbours, even when I come to Australia,’ he said wryly.

‘A good thing too!’ Berengario called back. ‘If it had been up to you, you’d be moping around here with only a cat for company, being grumpy to your guests!’

‘Excuse me, I’m the one who decided not to wait for the visa and come immediately.’

‘You’re just impatient,’ Berengario quipped. ‘What do you know about romance? You can’t even tell a woman you love her! Young people these days think they don’t need any advice from their elders, when?—’

Jules rolled her eyes and then her hands came up to Alex’s cheeks, turning him firmly to face her. She hopped up on her toes and kissed him. Sharp and hot, the relief in the kiss – the comfort, the intimacy – flooded him. He held her tight and the world around him faded, his focus narrowed to this woman in his arms, this love. He was dimly aware of cheering and applause from the AGM of the Fogolar Furlan, but he drew out the kiss a little longer.

When they reluctantly broke apart, hesitating for a few mingled breaths to decide if they could get away with doing that again – at least that was how he interpreted the twinkle in her eyes – the words flowed out of their own accord: ‘I love you, Jules.’ Another cheer, drowning out Berengario’s dry comment over the video call. ‘Ti voglio bene,’ Alex repeated in Italian with a growing smile. ‘Ti vuei ben,’ he continued, to more applause from the strangers watching their reunion. ‘That’s Furlan,’ he explained.

‘I got it,’ she said with her own wobbly smile. ‘What was it? Ti vuei ben?’ she repeated slowly.

He nodded, watching her, waiting, enjoying the suspense because he could already see the truth in her damp eyes.

Then she poked him. ‘Ti vuei ben, Alessandro Mattelig. History and all.’ The poke became a shove. ‘I love you – way more than is sensible. Wherever we are, I don’t want to be without you ever again.’

As the first tear fell with a hiccough, he gathered her up and soaked up her words. ‘You won’t be without me. I’m here. If you’ll let me be where you are, I’ll stay.’

‘I’ll look after you – I promise,’ she said earnestly, drawing back to look at him. ‘When we’re in Australia, with my family, when we have tough decisions – everything. You won’t be alone.’

‘I know,’ was all he needed to say in reply. ‘Even before we were together, you didn’t leave me alone.’

Her nose scrunched up and he grinned in anticipation of whatever she was going to say with that adorable expression. ‘If you get your visa rejected, we could get married.’

‘That’s always an option,’ he said with a straight face.

‘I kind of like the idea of rushing a wedding for immigration purposes.’ She glanced at him warily. ‘Of course if you’re not ready I shouldn’t assume… Even if you never want to get married again, it’s okay.’

With a chuckle, he pressed a kiss to her forehead. ‘Maybe we should hope my visa gets rejected then.’ But if the visa really took five months to process, he might jump the gun, the way the future was suddenly stretching out so brightly before him.

‘I do have one condition,’ she said, her cheeky expression creeping back over her features. He lifted his eyebrows to prompt her. ‘Can you get a chestnut tattoo? In honour of my eyes?’ She snorted a laugh.

He flashed her a mysterious smile and pulled away. ‘That was the first order of business when I decided I was coming after you.’ With exaggerated flourish, he lifted the sleeve of his T-shirt to show her Stefano’s artwork: a frilly chestnut leaf with two shaded nuts nestled in their spiky case, inked alongside the two bay leaves, as though the picture had always been meant to look that way. ‘I had to get it done early so it could heal for a few weeks.’

‘Oh, my God! I was kind of joking!’

‘Kind of? Or actually joking?’ He cocked his head. ‘I know it’s a bit much. I’m happy with it anyway.’

‘It’s gorgeous – but then you know you’re gorgeous. I just hope it didn’t hurt too much.’

‘It was my idea!’ Berengario shouted through the speakers of the phone.

‘Oh, I had the idea long before you did!’ Alex called back, not looking away from the gleam in Jules’s eyes.

‘We can think about going back to Italy. I wouldn’t want you to live without chestnuts.’

‘It doesn’t matter where we are,’ he reassured her. ‘I’m ready to be here. Home will always be home and Furlans have a history of emigrating,’ he said with a quick glance at the beaming faces of the members of the association. ‘Wherever we are, we’ll be there for love.’