One Summer in Italy
Page 13
Amy could hardly believe it. ‘And you were looking forward to meeting him as well! What a shit,’ she declared hotly.
Sofia tilted her head. ‘True. But it turns out that he’s a shit with a hotel of his own. Have you noticed that large white building on the other side of town? You can see it from Casa Felice. That’s Hotel Alba, owned by Gianni Bianchi, and it seems that Benedetta and he are at daggers drawn. She’s decided that employing me will piss him off so she’s not only unsacked me—’ she paused impressively ‘—she’s offered me training and promotion.’
‘Get off it!’ Amy gasped, fork dangling unheeded from her fingers.
‘All true. I’d start by shadowing Aurora on reception, learning the booking system, room allocation and admin, handling complaints and guest requests, then go solo when I’ve learned the ropes. Shifts are seven till three or three till eleven, so eight hours instead of seven, but I’d never have to start as early as breakfast in the residents’ dining room or stay so late as the evening shift in Il Giardino.’
‘Awesome!’ Amy could have cheered. Sofia was staying! Then, realising Sofia hadn’t said that, Amy tagged on apprehensively, ‘You’re taking it, aren’t you?’
Sofia sipped her wine, eyes thoughtful above the rim of her glass. ‘I’ve agreed to tell Benedetta my decision at noon tomorrow.’
‘But it means you’d stay.’ Amy almost wailed in panic. ‘Take it, Sofia!’
Levi, who had eaten his way methodically through his pizza, glanced sidelong at Sofia.
Sofia returned her glass to the table and turned it in precise little circles, a tiny V between her eyebrows. ‘True.’ Her eyes were full of warmth and understanding but also a hint of warning. ‘Thank you for wanting me to stay, but Benedetta’s not the most consistent of employers, is she? She’s sacked both of us at different times and gone back on it, and it seems she’s only offered me this opportunity to spite my uncle. If I take the job it means more money and a different uniform and a chance to get some training that could stand me in good stead in the future. It also means I can leave on my own terms when the time comes, rather than having to make a decision in reaction to one of her fleeting rages. But it also leaves me open to being in the same situation all over again.’
‘Oh.’ To hide her disappointment, Amy fell to picking over her lasagna with waning enthusiasm. Sofia didn’t seem to want to be rushed into anything. Amy could almost hear her mum’s voice saying your trouble is you always want everything to just be all right, Amy Webber. Instead of just grabbing at what you think’s the simplest solution, why not think the situation through? Think about consequences. Not that her mum had appeared to have thought too deeply when she had sex with Amy’s father. Amy was the living, breathing consequence.
Again that hollow tug of homesickness for her family and their tall house with its steep roof and mustard-painted walls. Familiar. Safe. She wondered how long it would be before her family stopped expecting her to come home. They might let Kris have her room because it was the biggest and had an en suite, or turn it into a guest room for when Gran and Granddad visited. She’d been on Louis and Kris’s Instagrams this morning and shed hot, silent tears at pictures of them playing football in the garden and hanging upside down from the climbing things in the park. Pictures of life going on without her.
She wished she’d never signed up to give blood with Della and Maddalyn. Then she wouldn’t have known about her dad not being her dad and her mum having kept the secret that hurt everyone so much. She wouldn’t have got so blind with anger that she’d looked for ways to hurt them for being so stupid – her mum for having some sordid shag and her dad for being gullible enough not to recognise that Amy wasn’t his.
She dropped her fork and reached for her Aperol Spritz. It was sweet on her tongue as she sucked it through a straw. What would she do if Sofia left? Levi would go soon, because he was just a tourist, then she’d be back to worrying about Davide and his grumpy mother. Noemi and Matteo were going to uni before long. Uni, like Amy had been supposed to do before she binned her exams and went off travelling.
‘If I take up Benedetta’s offer then I won’t be working with you. Not in Il Giardino.’
Amy blinked her way out of her thoughts when she realised Sofia was addressing her again. ‘That doesn’t matter!’ She grasped eagerly at this hint that Sofia might not be dropping out of Amy’s life. Her voice had emerged all high and stupid and she sucked more of the Aperol Spritz through the straw. ‘We’re not always on shift together as it is. But your room would still be next to mine and—’ She gulped. ‘Please stay, Sofia! I can’t trust anybody else, not even my pa-parents!’ Her throat contracted, trapping her voice so it couldn’t get out.
‘Shh, Amy, don’t cry.’ Sofia reached over the corner of the table and gave her a hug. ‘I’ll give it a go.’
The relief made Amy feel weak. She knew she was going to blub like a baby because her lips were going all stupid and wavy even though she was trying to smile. Scraping back her chair, she jumped up and dashed back inside in search of the Ladies. Finding that sanctuary, she sat herself on a toilet and cried into ream after ream of toilet paper until her eyes were red and sore.
Levi watched Amy race indoors. He turned to Sofia and saw her eyes shining with tears. ‘Don’t you start too or I’ll join in. She leaps to extremes of emotion and my heart tries to leap with her.’ He had to swallow as he passed Sofia a clean napkin.
Sofia didn’t lose control like Amy but blotted her eyes once, twice, took a deep breath and a deeper slug from her wine glass. ‘That was unexpectedly tricky.’
‘But thanks.’ He took several gulps from his beer to encourage the heat behind his nose to vanish. ‘Really. You don’t know how grateful I am. I hope the new job works out OK and that you won’t regret it.’ Everything about Sofia’s manner told him that she wasn’t convinced but wasn’t sure if there was a better alternative.
‘Likewise. I’m not sure what I’ve done to make her so attached to me.’
As Amy hadn’t reappeared, he took Sofia’s hand beneath the table, warm and small in his. ‘You were kind to her when she felt as if the whole world was against her. You heard what she said about her parents—’ Responsibility felt like a wet, clammy rock in his stomach. He shook his head. ‘Fucksake. I was even younger than her when I had the fling that resulted in her. She’d probably hate me if she knew who I was.’
Her hand squeezed his. ‘You know that the longer you leave it to tell her, the worse it’s going to be?’ Her eyes were great dark pools of compassion.
The rock inside him rolled, until it felt as if it was squashing his heart. ‘In principle. It’s just that, while she doesn’t know, I can hang around and see she’s OK. Once I tell her … If she does hate me …’
‘Let’s not even go there.’ Sofia took a big breath and blotted her eyes again. ‘When she comes back we ought to get another round of drinks to celebrate my “promotion”. Along with my smart new uniform I’ll have a name badge.’
‘Yeah,’ he agreed gloomily. ‘And you’ll be off-limits again.’
‘Eh, eh!’ she protested in a fair imitation of Davide. ‘You promised me a one-night stand. As I won’t accept Benedetta’s offer until tomorrow I’m still officially sacked and I intend to take advantage of that.’
Lust slithered through him as he looked at her smiling mouth, at the upper slopes of her breasts above the neckline of her top. He was assailed by a vivid memory of his hands and mouth on that silky skin. He felt his body stir. ‘I intend to let you,’ he replied, dropping his voice as he saw Amy stepping back through the doorway into the garden. He let go of Sofia’s hand and prepared to pretend not to notice the red eyes of the troubled daughter who’d so recently set up camp in his heart.
Chapter Thirteen
Levi woke Sofia in the morning with hot kisses on the nape of her neck. ‘Your appointment with Benedetta isn’t until noon so you’re still sacked,’ he murmured. ‘Fancy a one-morning stand?’
He made love to her tenderly, opening the curtains to admire her better in the morning sunlight. Her skin fascinated him, so smooth and fine, and her hair falling across his body whenever she rose above him, stroking his flesh and making him shiver. Would this ever happen again? In case it couldn’t, he crushed her against him as she came until he felt like he was part of her, and his own release rushed up to carry him over the edge with her.
Later, they ordered room service and breakfasted on hot croissants and coffee. Levi’s new room had no balcony – which was just as well as immediately below stood a collection of bins and crates in an area that Sofia called the utility yard.
They didn’t talk about these being their last hours, but Levi saw his own regret reflected in Sofia’s unconvincing smile. Not wanting to let the mood darken, after breakfast he took her hand and led her back to the bed. ‘I’m going to help you realise another goal. Lie down.’
She climbed onto the bed and settled on her back with an anticipatory expression. ‘Is there anything left?’
He picked up his paint palette and poured water into one of his jars, grinning as her eyes widened. ‘The tattoo. Personally, I don’t think you need any embellishment, but I’m going to let you see how it’d look.’ Ignoring her half-hearted protests he wet a fine sable brush and loaded it heavily with Prussian Blue, then arranged himself beside her on the bed, propped on his elbow. ‘Hold still.’ He began with a lazy swirl across the taut skin of her belly.
‘Tickles!’ she protested, quivering.
‘You’d have to stay stiller than this for a tattoo artist,’ he observed, loading his brush again and beginning a series of tiny dots, more to make her wriggle and squirm than to accommodate any painting technique. Then he began long, slow strokes on the undersides of her breasts.
‘Mmm. Mmm-mmm,’ she breathed, eyes half-closing. ‘That feels … Ooh! It’s odd and … Mmm, I would never have thought being painted would be so nice. No! Not like that! It tickles, Levi!’
‘Keep still or you’ll smudge.’ He laughed, abandoning the tiny flicking strokes he’d just tried. He found he obtained the result he liked with long swirling strokes of a slightly broader brush. Sofia lay still except for the occasional shiver.
Finally, he pulled her up to stand in front of the mirror to admire his handiwork. She pressed back against him, eyes hooded but bright. ‘It’s back to front.’
‘Mirror images tend to be. I would have had to plan a little more to write it backwards.’ He took a photo of her with his phone so she could see what he’d written in flowing script ornamented with flowers and leaves: One awesome night ~ Levi Gunn.
Her smile faded. ‘And now it’s over.’
They had just enough time to shower before Sofia’s meeting with Benedetta. Levi watched the lather he smoothed over her body turn Prussian Blue before washing away.
They didn’t say much as they dressed but Levi’s mind circled. Amy was frightened at the idea of Sofia not working at Casa Felice. Sofia working at Casa Felice would be jeopardised if she continued to be close to Levi. The most palatable alternative seemed to be Sofia and Amy travelling on together, which would exclude Levi, as his moving on with them was so far-fetched that Amy was bound to start asking a whole shoal of questions. Yet, if he let them go alone, would he ever see his daughter again?
They’d talked around the subject for a while last night, about the chances of Sofia and Amy getting other work with accommodation in Montelibertà, or Levi moving to another hotel to get round Benedetta’s irksome rule. He’d checked room availability at the other hotels in the town on his laptop – only four boutique establishments and Gianni Bianchi’s much larger Hotel Alba – and struck out in all of them now the tourist season was getting in full swing. And, as Sofia pointed out, he was here to watch over Amy and that could only be done effectively from Casa Felice.
Despite the fatiguing effects of a thorough sexual workout he prowled the room, watching Sofia, seated at the dressing table, brush her hair into a glossy sheet and wind it into a big clip on the back of her head. She dug out a makeup bag from one of her cases and quickly applied eyeliner and mascara.
Done, she rose from the stool. Her eyes, which, for the past twenty-four hours had told him so much of what she was thinking and feeling, were now remote. ‘OK to leave my stuff here until I’ve talked to Benedetta?’
He edged her closer, running his fingers up her arm. ‘Sure. I need to catch up on email and talk to Wes so I intend to work from my room anyway. Just come back up when you’re ready … if you don’t think it will cause instant dismissal.’
Her smile was a shadow of its former relaxed and sultry self. ‘I won’t advertise where I’ve been and I’m sure Benedetta will realise it’s better not to ask. Well.’ She smoothed down her dress and for an instant her eyes shone with tears. ‘I’m not sure why I feel as if I’m going to the gallows instead of a meeting about a promotion.’
When she would have moved away he stayed her a moment, trying to read her eyes. ‘Are you really OK about staying? Is it going to be hard after what happened with your uncle?’
Her shoulders lifted on a sigh. ‘Can’t deny it was a blow. I suppose I’ve been harbouring hopes about the wider family I’ve never had, but I’m OK about staying. What I’ve never had I’ll never miss.’ She smiled wryly, touched her lips to his once, twice, then stepped out of his embrace and was gone.
For several moments he gazed at the door that closed behind her. Then, restless, he moved over to the window. Down in the yard a man was moving crates around. Apart from that, Levi could only see the side of the next building and the sky. He took out his phone and examined the photos of Sofia and her ‘tattoo’ – one up close and one where he’d zoomed out to include her naked breasts and a little of her laughing face.
Unable to settle to work, he paced the room for a few minutes more, then, trying to focus on the reason he was in Montelibertà, rang Freya.
‘Is everything OK?’ she demanded the moment she picked up. He imagined her as he’d last seen her nearly three weeks ago in Germany. In her forties she was still a striking woman but strain had etched hard lines on her face and stolen away her smile.
‘Pretty much. I just wanted to update you.’ He proceeded to outline yesterday’s chaos, mentioning Sofia only as ‘a woman who works here, someone Amy seems to feel safe with’, omitting any hint that he’d just spent an amazing night with her. ‘I have no idea what to do,’ he admitted, as he wound down.
‘I don’t know either.’ Freya’s voice wobbled. ‘Every few days she sends me a stilted little text to say she’s OK. The boys say she communicates with them on social media but I’m forcing myself not to ask for details because I don’t want her to stop.’
‘I can see that.’ He opened his laptop with his free hand.
‘She’s not talking to Stephen at all,’ she burst out. ‘He’s beside himself that his reaction to – to the news is what sent her off on one. Oh, hell, everything’s such a mess! I wish you could just bundle her onto your bike and bring her home again.’
Levi watched his laptop screen as it asked for his password and he tapped it in. ‘It would exhibit an insulting lack of concern for Amy’s wishes,’ he observed. ‘She’s not likely to react well to that.’
Freya’s voice sharpened. ‘I do know my own daughter, thank you very much.’
Levi slid his finger across the track pad to move the cursor to the desktop icon that would open his email. ‘Whereas I’m only just getting to know mine,’ he replied softly as Loading appeared on the screen for an instant before a list of emails sprang up, many of them the result of Levi being copied into mail between Wes and the freelancers of The Moron Forum.
Silence.
A layer of frost coated Freya’s voice when she spoke again. ‘I am aware.’
He sat down on the bed,
laptop in hand, kicked the covers to the floor and propped himself comfortably on the pillows. He kept his own voice level. ‘Actually, I’m not sure you’re thinking about anybody else’s feelings in this. It’s not about you, Freya. It’s not about you wanting her home and seeing for yourself she’s OK, you wanting her and Stephen to re-establish their relationship as a first step to you getting your comfortable life back. It’s about Amy. It’s about keeping her safe, so far as possible, respecting her choices, doing what has the best chance of making her happy. I get that she’s only eighteen years old and she’s blown off family and education while she goes travelling, but loads of teenagers do. You might also spare a thought for me – the guy you’ve put in a situation that leaves him no good options.’
‘So I don’t need to ask if you’ve identified yourself?’
His eye caught a notification of an email exchange between Wes and Octavia and he clicked on it. ‘If I had, I’d have told you. But I don’t think it’s the right thing to do, because she needs friends right now. That’s what I’m trying to be.’
The next silence went on so long that Levi had actually begun to read the email conversation, an innocuous exchange about some overzealous spam protection that was causing glitches behind the scenes of The Moron Forum. Finally, Freya spoke again. ‘I do appreciate what you’re doing. You’ve been out there a while now and you must have your own life to get on with.’
‘I do.’ He opened another email thread between Wes and Octavia. ‘But Amy’s my priority.’ Even if she wasn’t always the woman uppermost in his thoughts.
‘Don’t think she’s not mine.’ Freya’s words were clipped.
Neither of them had much to say after that. Levi dropped the phone on the bed when she’d ended the call, and went onto The Moron Forum and made sure every page was running cleanly, reading threads at random to check the site was still the preserve of sardonic wit without too much input from haters. It was amazing how many people confused satirical comment with an invitation to be a keyboard warrior, picking on some celebrity, politician or social trend to flame without having anything entertaining to add.