One Winter Weekend

Chapter 6

Chapter 6

A t seven pm, the wedding party reconvened on the hotel’s rooftop terrazza, taking in the extraordinarily beautiful cityscape.

Ancient icons such as the Colosseum, Roman Forum and Pantheon recalled Rome's time as the fearsome hub of the Roman Empire, while catacombs and clandestine churches harked back to the early days of Christianity.

Lording it over the Vatican was St Peter's Basilica, the greatest of the city's monumental basilicas, a towering masterpiece of Renaissance architecture and clearly visible from where they sat.

Paddy had at first been a bit disappointed that there was no Guinness and the only beer available was bottled Peroni, but being able to look out at such a glorious view seemed worth it.

He sat with his wife making small talk with Ben’s parents whom he wasn't all that keen on.

“So,” he said, a bit awkwardly, “have you been to Italy before?”

“Oh,” Patricia said, with something that sounded vaguely like a combination of a forced laugh and a throat-clearing, “ many times. We used to take Ben and Mark to the Amalfi Coast on holidays when they were little. Stopped a few times here to see the sights and take in the art and culture. But if you’re to do anything in Italy, you simply must visit Tuscany. The wines…” she nodded towards her half-full glass, “…are much better than this swill.”

The awkward silence resumed until Ben’s father spoke up. “So then, Paddy my good man, what is it that you do again? Forgive me - I’ve forgotten.”

Paddy took a sip of his beer. “Well, I worked in courier delivery for a number of years, mostly delivering packages locally. DHL bought the company a few years back but I still run the delivery service - I just don’t have to actually go on the deliveries anymore.”

James sat upright. “So,” he said interestedly, “you used to pull out packages from a van or something like that?”

“Well,” Paddy replied, his eyes narrowing somewhat, “it was something like that in that the job title was literally pulling packages out of a van so… yes.”

“I think I need another glass of wine,” Patricia interjected, swallowing a large gulp from her glass and hailing the waiter.

Molly was feeling considerably happier after a bath and a few glasses of chianti with Caroline.

She now sat on the hotel’s beautiful rooftop terrace curled up on a wicker sofa alongside Ben, munching absentmindedly on some Italian cheeses and grapes, while Caroline relaxed nearby.

“You know,” she said, “Santa Maria church is very small. Mum and Dad won’t know what hit them when they see how tiny it is.”

Ben snickered. “You think your parents will be surprised?” he asked. “Mine will simply be livid. I can hear it now: mother getting her nose in a snit, saying things like, ‘Huh! It’s so dusty in here,’ and father with his upright disapproval, wondering where the ‘right honourable gentlemen’ of Italy are supposed to get married.” He exhaled through his nose dramatically. “It’s going to be classic .”

Caroline, seated across from them, giggled. “You two,” she smiled. “You’re so… so perfect together. I’m just… I’m just…”

“Drunk?” Molly suggested, laughing. “We did go through that wine Fabrizio sent to the room awfully quickly.”

“Speaking of which,” Ben noted, looking at his watch, “where is Fabrizio? He’s over an hour late.”

“Dunno,” Caroline said. “Want me to go look for him?”

“Would you mind?” Molly asked gratefully.

She patted her friend on the knee. “I’ll be right back,” she promised. She got up and made her way towards the lift, heading down to the lobby.

At the desk, she asked the clerk if she’d seen Fabrizio, but he apparently hadn’t been around since earlier.

Annoyed, she returned to the lift but as she exited the lobby, she noticed a man sitting by the downstairs bar, flashing a big smile and flirting with the pretty young bartender.

Caroline marched over to him with a full head of steam and tapped him on the shoulder.

“Excuse me,” she said, “exactly what do you think you’re doing?”

Fabrizio turned to look at her and smiled. “Ah, Bella ” he greeted energetically, “so wonderful to see you again.”

“Don’t give me that crap,” she said sternly. “We’ve been waiting upstairs on you for an hour. And I find you sitting down here, drinking and – and – flirting ?”

Fabrizio took her by the hand. “Signorina,” he said, dramatically, “I did not mean to offend. But life is too short to worry about being a little late. Sometimes, we must go where the moment takes us.”

Caroline pulled her hand back brusquely. “Well, buddy” she replied her voice terse, “the ‘moment’ had better take you up there to talk to Molly and Ben about their wedding in short order, or we’re going to be finding another planner and another hotel.”

The Italian put his hands up defensively. “Okay, okay,” he said, “but tell me, Signorina… are you more upset that I am late, or more upset that I was speaking with a woman whose beauty is so inferior to yours?”

Caroline blushed slightly but didn’t break her icy stare. “Don’t think for a second that nonsense is going to work on me ,” she said fiercely. “I’ve heard all about you swarthy, Italian charmers.”

Fabrizio raised an eyebrow. “Swarthy?” he repeated bemusedly.

Caroline continued without breaking stride. “You’re all ‘passion’ and ‘fire’ and ‘embrace your inner blah-blah-blah’ for foreign women – and then when you get what you want you never speak to us again. So don’t try your tricks on me, mister.”

Fabrizio nodded curtly. “Yes, Signorina,” he said, his face a picture. “I will no longer comment on the radiance of your beauty, which puts a sunset to shame…”

Caroline rolled her eyes. “If you’re done doing… whatever it was you were doing here, I’d appreciate it if you’d come now and talk to my friend about her wedding. She could really use your help.”

Fabrizio downed the last of his drink and pushed out his stool from the bar. “After you,” he offered.

“Oh, no,” she said sarcastically, “I insist – after you .”

Caroline was pleased with her performance; she’d successfully done exactly what she set out to do, performing her bridesmaid duties well.

But despite herself - and feeling like a bit of an idiot for feeling that way - she couldn’t help but admit that there was something about Fabrizio’s smile that made her insides tingle.