Three Days in Florence

by Chrissie Manby

  ‘Anyway, I was too shy to speak to him and he was too shy to speak to me, but I knew he had noticed me. We spent the afternoon of the party moving around the garden as though we were at opposite ends of an invisible bar, never getting any closer but never any further apart. Each keeping an eye on the other. I knew exactly where he was all the time.

  ‘Later, the father of my host family insisted that Ugo play the piano to entertain us all. He was a wonderful musician. Henry takes after him of course. When he sat down at the piano, all his shyness was gone. He could let the music express how he felt. When he played a love song, he finally had the courage to look straight at me. I looked straight back at him – and boom! I knew at once that I’d found the love of my life. He plucked up the courage to ask me on a date three days later. We went to the cinema. We never looked back. We saw each other whenever we could after that.’

  The memory of her courtship had blown the cloud away from the sun and Roberta’s face was transformed again. Now Kathy could see the young girl from Brentwood, dazzled by the handsome Italian.

  ‘One afternoon, towards the end of the summer, he took me to the Uffizi. Even though I was supposed to be going back to London to study art when I’d finished my time as an au pair, I couldn’t understand why he wanted to take me on such a stuffy date. And he was so nervous about it too. It was so strange. He took me to see the Doni Tondo. Do you know it?’

  ‘I learned about it just last week,’ said Kathy, remembering the beautiful picture in the guide book.

  ‘Isn’t it lovely? I’d seen it before, of course, but I’d never really looked at it. Not the way he had. When we were standing in front of it, Ugo took my hand and told me that when he looked at that painting – of Mary and Joseph with the infant Jesus – he saw the life he wanted to have. He saw a man and a woman working together for their family. He saw a strong woman, who could hold the whole world in her arms and build empires with her love. He said he saw me in the Madonna. Can you imagine?’

  Roberta touched her fingers to the centre of her chest as if in surprise.

  ‘And then he asked me to marry him. He got down on one knee right in the middle of the gallery and asked me to be his wife. I said, yes, of course. I knew I loved him the first time I saw him. I realised then that he truly loved me back. I’d never felt like I could be anything special before that moment. I was just a girl from Essex. I grew up with a family who didn’t really expect anything of me. I was silly and stupid and vain, as nineteen-year-old girls are. Ugo made me see myself differently. He made me want to be a better person, for him. I knew then that he would always be there for me, and with him beside me, I could do anything.’

  Roberta fished a handkerchief out of her handbag.

  ‘That’s a lovely story,’ said Kathy.

  ‘I was such a lucky girl. I still talk to him, you know. The thing about having known someone for as long as I knew Ugo, and having known them so well, is that they can never really be lost to you. When you need to talk to them, you still can, and you will hear them answer because, having loved them so hard, you know what they would have said in any given situation.’

  ‘Mostly Papa would have said, “Yes, dear,”’ said Henry, who had managed to sneak up behind them without either of them noticing.

  Roberta turned to him with a mock-stern look. Then she nodded. ‘That is exactly what he would have said.’

  Henry put his arm around his mother’s shoulders and pressed a kiss to her hair. ‘Where’s Manu?’ he asked.

  ‘Playing with his friends. Let’s pick him up and get back to the house,’ said Roberta. ‘I have no idea whether or not Ernesto will be in the kitchen today.’

  ‘If he isn’t, we will be,’ said Henry. ‘Isn’t that right, Kathy?’

  ‘Yes. Yes, of course,’ Kathy agreed. The fact that Henry had included her in his assertion surprised her. It also made her very happy. She felt they were at least becoming friends.

  Henry offered his mother his arm as they turned to walk back down the path. ‘Shall we?’ he asked.

  Kathy lingered behind them for a moment or two, taking in the tranquillity of the churchyard. She took a last proper look at the photograph on Ugo Innocenti’s headstone. She could see Henry’s face reflected there, she realised. In the shape of his cheeks and his chin. In his curling brown hair. In his eyes. His kind dark eyes.

  ‘Nice to meet you, Signor Innocenti,’ she said. She wished she might have met him in person.

  Kathy made to catch up with the others. Ahead of her on the path, Henry was making his mother laugh about something. Kathy noticed the care with which he helped Roberta navigate the steps, which were more difficult for her to walk down than up. There was so much love between them it was almost palpable. And then Manu joined them, running around them in circles all the way back to the street, like a little human bumble bee, dancing with all the happiness of an early summer’s day.

  Chapter Thirty-eight

  Kathy was all ready to do her bit in the kitchen again, but when the family got back to the Casa Innocenti, it was to find Ernesto already at the stove preparing lunch.

  ‘Well, well, well,’ said Roberta, when she saw him. ‘That’s the fastest result I’ve ever had from a Sunday-morning prayer.’

  Kathy asked Manu for a genuine translation of her apology, which she delivered to Ernesto as soon as she was able. He paused in chopping vegetables to nod his acceptance. He even attempted a smile.

  Kathy was pleased that Ernesto was back for Roberta’s sake but there was a tiny part of her that was disappointed not to have a chance to be in the kitchen with Henry, proving to him that she wasn’t just a freeloader. She’d have to wait until it was time to serve the food. She could help again then.

  Manu was also disappointed: since Henry wasn’t needed in the kitchen he was able to give his nephew a quick piano lesson.

  ‘You haven’t practised all week,’ Henry said.

  Manu groaned. He hunched over so far that his knuckles nearly dragged on the floor as he reluctantly followed Henry to the upright piano in the sitting room.

  ‘Fifteen minutes,’ Henry said to him. ‘That’s all. You’d happily play Piano Tiles for twice that time,’ he observed, referring to the game Manu had installed on his mother’s phone.

  At Roberta’s insistence, Kathy sat down to watch from the other end of the room.

  Once Manu had stopped playacting his disgust at having to practise, he sat down next to his uncle quite happily. Faustino followed, standing with his front paws on the edge of the piano stool as though he, too, was ready to read the music Henry put on the stand. Manu played a few tentative scales. Faustino made a few tentative rrrrowl-type noises in response. Henry had Manu play some arpeggios as a warm-up. Again, Faustino squeaked and grumbled in response.

  ‘You must watch this,’ Roberta said to Kathy.

  ‘OK, Manu,’ said Henry. ‘Let’s try the Mozart.’

  Manu’s brow was furrowed in concentration as he began to play ‘Eine Kleine Nachtmusik’. As he plonked at the keys in laboured concentration, Faustino sang along in full howling canine voice. The dog had quite good tone.

  ‘He’s putting me off!’ Manu complained.

  ‘You’re doing brilliantly,’ Henry told his nephew. ‘Faustino wouldn’t be singing along if he didn’t appreciate your playing.’

  ‘I can’t hear myself playing!’

  Every time Manu stopped to tell Faustino off, the dog stopped singing. Every time Manu started playing again, the dog would start howling. Little dog and little boy turned Mozart’s most famous tune into a terrific cacophony, leaving Kathy and Roberta doing their best not to cry with laughter, while Henry tried to keep Manu on task.

  ‘It’s like this every week,’ Roberta whispered. ‘Every single time.’

  Eventually, Henry scooped Faustino up, with the intention of putting him in another room so he couldn’t sing along but, despite his complaints, Manu didn’t want that. Instead boy and dog continued their painful d
uet until fifteen minutes had passed – Manu had set an alarm on his tablet – and Manu jumped up from the piano stool like a jack-in-a-box.

  ‘Hooray!’ Manu pumped the air and bolted for his bedroom, followed by his grandmother, who wanted to be sure he hung up his Sunday best once he’d changed out of it.

  With Manu gone, Faustino remained by the stool as though hoping for an encore. He put a paw on one of Henry’s knees and cocked his head to one side as though to ask, ‘Is that all?’

  Henry ruffled Faustino’s fluffy head.

  ‘As you can see,’ said Henry to Kathy, ‘we’re a very musical household.’

  Watching Henry at the piano with Manu and Faustino had brought back some bittersweet memories for Kathy. She was reminded of her own younger self, sitting alongside her father, with Benji, their dog, looking on. As was the case with Manu, there had been times when Kathy didn’t want to practise. There were times when she’d been rude to her dad, telling him that music was boring and she didn’t want to learn any more.

  ‘Just fifteen minutes.’ He’d said that to her too. Kathy had played grudgingly, eager to get back to a more interesting game. She hadn’t realised as a child what a gift her father had been offering her. She wished she’d been more enthusiastic. More grateful. She hoped he’d understood before he died how much she had enjoyed playing alongside him as she’d got older. She knew he would have enjoyed seeing Henry, Manu and the singing dog.

  That morning in the Casa Innocenti, Faustino continued to paw at Henry’s leg. ‘You want another tune?’ Henry asked the pup. ‘Perhaps Kathy can play for you.’

  Kathy sat up a little straighter. Was Henry inviting her to play with him?

  ‘A duet?’ she suggested.

  Henry shuffled to the edge of the piano stool to make room for her but then the phone rang. And it was Neil.

  Henry handed the phone across and left the room so that Kathy had some privacy.

  ‘Chicken?’ Neil asked.

  ‘I’m here,’ said Kathy.

  ‘I’ve been trying the phone all morning. Where have you been?’

  ‘We went to church.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘I said we went to church.’

  ‘Really?’ Neil seemed surprised. ‘Are you staying in some kind of cult? Are you going to have to hand over all your money before they let you leave?’

  Kathy ignored him. Neil attributed the worst of motives to just about everyone.

  ‘How are you?’ Kathy asked. ‘How are the children?’

  ‘Nightmare,’ said Neil.

  He launched into another litany of complaints. It was as though he’d only just noticed that his three children could be difficult. Possibly that was the case. It was the first time in a long time that Kathy hadn’t been there to divert the flak. Or act as a taxi service.

  ‘And then Mum called,’ Neil continued. ‘Wouldn’t stop going on about Shelley and Dave’s baby. You’d think they were the first people on earth to be having one.’

  ‘It’s an exciting time for them,’ said Kathy.

  ‘It’s an exciting time for us,’ Neil countered. ‘Dave wasn’t the only one to make a big announcement last week.’

  The timing of the engagement began to sound more and more like a move calculated to divert the spotlight. Now Neil was upset that it hadn’t worked.

  Kathy waited for Neil to say something that would make her smile, laugh, feel a little happier. He didn’t. In the background, Amelie asked, ‘When’s she coming back?’

  Back. Not home.

  ‘I need some stuff washed.’

  ‘Tomorrow,’ said Kathy, answering the question. ‘Tomorrow night.’

  And she wasn’t looking forward to it at all.

  Chapter Thirty-nine

  After talking to Neil, Kathy helped Henry serve lunch to the hotel’s guests on the beautiful terrace.

  Fortunately, that evening there would be no dinner service in the hotel to worry about, should Ernesto not feel like turning up for work. The guests already knew they would have to go further afield if they wanted anything more than olives and crisps to go with their drinks from the honesty bar.

  ‘So you can have the night off,’ Roberta joked to Kathy.

  ‘Not me, though,’ said Henry. ‘Your humble minstrel has another gig. Surprise sixtieth birthday party at the Michelangelo Plaza Hotel. Two hundred guests. It’s going to be quite the bash.’

  ‘What’s it like,’ Kathy asked, ‘going to party after party but not as a guest? You must see some things.’

  ‘Yes,’ said Henry. ‘In vino veritas. The best punch-ups I’ve ever seen have been at wedding receptions and not between the men. I once saw a bride tuck her wedding dress into her knickers so she could take a flying kick at her new husband’s female best friend. That was impressive. And I’ve found that the richer the guests, the more likely they are to be badly behaved. They think money makes up for a lack of manners.’

  Kathy thought again of Neil, tucking the cash into Henry’s top pocket and telling him, ‘Buy yourself a decent shirt.’

  ‘What tonight will be like, I don’t know. The playlist they’ve sent me is pretty good. No Coldplay.’

  Kathy ignored the dig.

  ‘What will you do this evening?’ Henry asked.

  Kathy shrugged.

  ‘You can come to church again with me,’ said Roberta.

  ‘I don’t suppose Kathy’s soul needs that much attention,’ said Henry.

  ‘Who’s singing with you tonight, Henry?’ Roberta asked.

  ‘Giuliana,’ said Henry.

  ‘She’s back from the South of France, then?’

  Roberta explained that having met a music producer in a bar in Florence, Giuliana had travelled to St-Tropez in the hope of a second meeting. She’d hatched a plan that she would turn up there with a couple of girlfriends and wangle a lift on his yacht.

  ‘Didn’t work out,’ Henry explained. ‘The producer already had a fearsome Russian supermodel in tow. Giuliana had no hope of getting on deck with Miss Moscow already in position.’

  Roberta sighed and shook her head. ‘I wish she’d find herself a nice local fellow instead of chasing after all these rich men who see her as nothing more than entertainment. Still, at least it means she’s back to play with you tonight.’

  Unfortunately, that wasn’t the case. It turned out that Giuliana had other plans for the evening.

  Two minutes after Henry went up to the attic room to fetch a clean shirt from his wardrobe, he was back downstairs with a face like thunder.

  ‘She claimed she didn’t know we were working tonight!’ Henry was outraged. ‘When I asked if she could cancel her new plans, she told me she was taking my phone call in Prague.’

  ‘Prague? Oh dear,’ said Roberta. ‘How will she get back from there in time?’

  ‘Well, of course she’s not going to, is she?’

  Henry got another message on his phone. He jabbed at the screen to open it. ‘Trixie’s out of town as well.’

  ‘Then who’s going to sing for you?’ Roberta asked.

  Kathy was sitting with Manu, while he showed her his favourite clips from The Simpsons on the tablet. She was pretending not to listen in to Henry and Roberta’s conversation, but she gradually became aware that Henry was looking straight at her.

  ‘You can do it,’ he said.

  Kathy turned. Was he talking to her?

  ‘You can sing with me tonight. What do you say? It’ll be fun. We’ll split the fee.’

  Roberta, Manu and even Faustino looked at her expectantly.

  ‘Oh,’ said Kathy. ‘I don’t really think so.’

  ‘You can do it.’

  ‘I can’t.’

  ‘I’ve heard you sing.’

  ‘You didn’t say so,’ said Kathy. When she’d realised Henry was watching her at the piano in the Palazzo Boldrini she hadn’t known how long he had been watching her. Now he told her he’d been there when she warbled her way through three verses of ‘
The Man I Love’.

  ‘I didn’t know.’

  ‘You sang it beautifully,’ Henry insisted. He appealed to Roberta and Manu to back him up. ‘She sang it wonderfully. She has a lovely voice. Easily as good as Giuliana’s.’

  ‘Oh, Kathy. Wouldn’t it be fantastic if you could step in tonight?’ said Roberta. Her face was bright with the prospect. ‘It would save Henry so much trouble, and I’m sure it would be quite the experience for you. The Michelangelo Plaza is a lovely hotel. You really ought to see the gardens there. I’m sure they’ll treat you very well.’

  But Kathy was thinking of the number of guests Henry had quoted back when he first mentioned the gig. There were to be two hundred at that party. Two hundred! Kathy was still cringing at the thought that she’d been heard singing by one solitary person she hadn’t even known was listening.

  Now four pairs of eyes, including Faustino’s bright brown ones, gazed in her direction, willing her just to say yes and make everything better for everyone with a single word. Her cheeks were burning as she told them, ‘I can’t. I’m really, really sorry. I just can’t.’

  ‘Oh.’ Roberta did her best to hide her disappointment.

  Henry did the same. He nodded. ‘I understand. That’s OK. It’s perfectly fine.’

  Taking his mobile, Henry headed for the terrace. ‘Right, I suppose I’d better start phoning around.’

  Chapter Forty

  Feeling embarrassed, small and more than a little pathetic, Kathy excused herself to go upstairs to the attic room. She took the house phone with her. Standing next to Henry’s music-covered desk, looking out of the window, Kathy called her mother. She hadn’t spoken to her since Friday morning in the airport.