by T A Williams
Just then the ham arrived and they started their meal. As they ate, his phone rang no fewer than three times and he excused himself to take the calls outside. Although these constant interruptions started to annoy Annie, they managed to talk quite a bit and, by the end, Annie knew that he played tennis and golf, used to ski competitively, appreciated and collected fine wines and had a ‘thing about cars’. More interestingly, she learnt that he had been in a long-term relationship that had finished several years earlier. He gave no details as to why it had ended and she didn’t feel she could ask. She told him more about her background and interests and, by the time they finished their meal and he suggested heading for the tables, they both knew each other better, although she was still no nearer knowing with whom he was going on holiday.
Their visit to the roulette table was as gruesome as Annie had anticipated. Alex changed some money and insisted on giving her a handful of round tokens to play with. Annie was astounded to see that each of the tokens, or chips, as he called them, was worth ten euros. While he settled down to play, Annie stood back and looked on, with no desire whatsoever to join in. Around the table there were another dozen people, maybe more, many of the men in dinner jackets, all wearing ties. Alongside them were some equally formally dressed women, ranging in age from twenties and tarty, to seventies and saggy. There was a lot of cleavage on display and she was rather thankful that she had opted just to show off her legs this time. It was all rather unsavoury, somehow.
After a while, conscious he had given her the tokens, Annie decided she had better play. She hesitantly leant forward and placed the little pile of counters on the red diamond symbol and, to her surprise, immediately won, doubling her money. However, as she leant forward to pick up her winnings, she managed to drop the tokens on the floor and had an inelegant scramble under the table to pick them up, very conscious of eyes on her bottom as she did so. She retreated into the crowd and waited for her embarrassment to subside, reflecting that at least she would now be able to hand him back the original stake he had given her. She tapped him on the arm, rather hoping that he would take the hint and leave the table. He tried not to accept the money, but she insisted. ‘Gambling debts must always be repaid.’ He smiled, shrugged, took the tokens and pointed at the roulette wheel.
‘Want to keep playing?’
‘I don’t know about you, Alex, but this isn’t really doing it for me.’
He grinned. ‘Well, at least we both came out on top. Come on, let’s go and have a drink.’ He collected his winnings, threw a chip across the table to the croupier and accompanied her to the cash desk where she learnt she had won a hundred euros. Alex pocketed a wad of notes and turned to her with a smile.
‘Somehow I don’t think we’ve broken the bank, but I think we’ve made enough to pay for that drink.’
‘Then let’s use my winnings. It’s the least I can do after you bought me dinner.’
‘We can argue about who pays later. Come on.’
He led her through to the very luxurious bar area and they sat down on a soft leather sofa at a low table. The lighting was subdued, the music smooth jazz and, from what Annie could see, the other guests were a mixture of overweight Mafiosi, foreign businessmen and a number of girls who, if they weren’t hookers, certainly could do with some serious fashion advice from their mothers. She looked across the table and caught Alex’s eye. He was looking very relaxed and she realised he was quite comfortable in this sort of environment. She really wasn’t and she felt she had to tell him so.
‘Can I tell you something?’ He smiled back at her and she carried on. ‘I’m afraid this sort of place just isn’t my sort of place. When you get to know me better you’ll see that I’m a simple sort of girl really. I’m afraid I find all this a bit tacky.’ She hesitated. ‘Well, terribly tacky, to be honest. I’m really grateful to you for showing me what the inside of one of these places is like, but it’s just confirmed what I always suspected. I’m not that kind of girl.’
At that moment a waitress came across to take their order. Her skirt was even shorter than Annie’s and from where they were sitting it left very little to the imagination. Alex looked across the table and saw the expression on Annie’s face. He waved the girl away and stood up, offering Annie his hand. ‘You’re right. Let’s get out of here. I think I know exactly the right place for you.’
Somehow, by the time they emerged from the casino, his Ferrari had been brought to the door. She climbed in a little less clumsily this time, but still very conscious of the watching eyes all around. He slid into the driving seat, accelerated down the drive, turned right and headed up into the centre of the little town on San Daniele. In striking contrast to the noise and illumination of the casino, the main square was almost deserted. Lights in one corner revealed a small café. Alex pulled up outside it and turned off the engine.
‘I’m so sorry, Annie. I was just trying to give you a treat, show you something a bit different, but you’re right – I suppose it is all very tacky, really. I needed to hear that from you. I’ve been to so many places like that in my time that I barely notice any more, but you’re right.’ He reached across and caught her hand. ‘I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.’
Annie relaxed and gave his hand a squeeze. He opened the door and came round to help her out. Together, they walked into the café, which could hardly have been more different from the casino. The floor was made of old terracotta tiles, some of them worn thin and cracked by the passage of feet over the centuries. A huge television in the corner was showing a football match and there wasn’t a woman to be seen in the place apart from a matronly lady behind the bar who greeted them in the local patois. Annie’s knowledge of the local language barely extended beyond ‘Good Evening’ but she was very impressed to hear Alex speak it like a native. He glanced at Annie.
‘This place does the best hot chocolate in the valley. Fancy a cup?’
Annie most certainly did. He passed on the order and then they sat down at a table by the window, sufficiently far from the television to be able to hear themselves think. Annie was feeling much, much better and he must have seen it in her face.
‘This more your sort of place?’
‘Most definitely.’ She smiled back at him and then became more serious. ‘Look, Alex, I don’t want you to think I’m being difficult. In fact, when you get to know me better you’ll hopefully learn that I’m normally pretty easy-going. It was just that place, with all those get-rich-quick people and the seedy hangers-on. It just felt… yuck.’
He caught hold of her hand on the table top. ‘There’s no need to apologise. And we will get to know each other much, much better, you’ll see.’ The lady appeared with two tall glasses of hot chocolate, piled high with whipped cream and covered with chocolate chips. She set them down on the table and smiled indulgently as Annie dipped her teaspoon into hers and tasted it.
‘Buonissimo.’ The lady went off, well pleased. Annie glanced across at Alex. ‘Somehow I don’t think it’s the low-calorie version, but it’s amazing.’
They spent a happy hour in the café, during which time somebody won the football and several old men playing cards had hysterical outbursts. Annie hardly noticed, just pleased to have got away from the awful casino without spoiling things between her and Alex. In fact, by the time the evening came to an end, she felt much closer to him. Finally, at just before midnight, as the last of the card players filed out, she glanced across at Alex.
‘I don’t know about you, but I’m getting tired.’
He looked at her and smiled. ‘Time for bed?’
As she nodded, she found herself wondering just what that remark might imply.
In spite of her best efforts, she still fell inelegantly into the car, but this time there were no judgemental onlookers. As he pulled away with a squeal of tyres, she plucked up the courage to catch him by the arm. ‘Alex, and could we maybe go home a little more slowly? I’m afraid I was feeling quite car sick by the time we got here.’
He glanced across at her. ‘I’m sorry, Annie. You should have said. I’m afraid I don’t get to use the Ferrari much in the winter so I tend to be a bit enthusiastic when I get the chance. We’ll take it really slow, I promise.’
In fairness, the journey home was considerably slower than before. Even so, it was still accomplished at probably twice the speed of Annie’s Panda, but at least she managed to keep her hot chocolate firmly where it should be. When they arrived back at the school, however, she began to get stomach tremors of a totally different kind. Now what?
Alex pulled in and parked right outside the door, his final blip on the accelerator echoing up and down the street. He turned towards her and repeated his words. ‘Time for bed?’
In the end, three things conspired to make Annie’s decision for her. First, she had a sudden vision of the chaos that was her temporary bedroom, not least as she had left her dirty clothes strewn across the bed. Second, and somehow even more unsettling, was the fact that the light was still on in Matt’s office. Taking Alex into her bedroom would have felt like trying to sneak a boy in past her parents. And the third was the most significant: Steve. Was this what she wanted to do? Was she ready to consign Steve to the past and move on? She knew she still had a lot of thinking to do. She leant across the central console, which wasn’t easy, coming from her near-recumbent position in the bucket seat. She reached up her arms and caught him by the neck, pulling him across to her. Their lips met and they kissed, at first gently, but then she felt him become more urgent and she drew back, still holding him in her arms, enjoying the feel of his hands on her, but unsure about where this was leading. She found her voice.
‘I think I’d better go in now. I hope you have a very happy Christmas, Alex.’
The orange glow of the street lights sparkled in his amazing eyes, now almost green in colour. ‘I know how to make it an even happier Christmas.’ He pulled her back towards him and kissed her again, harder this time, his hands running across her body, but her mind was made up. She disengaged herself for a second time.
‘I’m afraid I’m going to need some more time, Alex. I’m sorry, but after all I’ve been through…’ She looked across and saw comprehension on his face. ‘Now, you have a really good holiday and I look forward to entertaining you in my lovely new house when you get back.’
He smiled and released his hold on her, his tone wistful. ‘Take all the time you need. I’ll be waiting. Happy Christmas, Annie.’
She managed to get out of the car without help this time and stood on the pavement as he drove off, the crescendo of noise from the car’s exhaust causing her to retreat into the shadows by the door, in case any neighbours looked out and spotted her. She heard the car roar off into the distance until the buildings finally blanked out the noise. She turned and let herself in through the front door. As she walked up the stairs she realised she still hadn’t found the courage to ask him who was going on holiday with him.
Upstairs, as she turned the key, she heard movement from Matt’s office and he appeared, his jacket in his hands. ‘Oh, hi, Annie, afraid I had to pull a late-nighter.’ He stretched and she saw the tiredness on his face.
‘You’re not getting any younger, Matt. You’ve got to learn to take it easy.’
‘You can talk, coming back in that flashy car at nearly one o’clock.’ He was using his big brother voice now. ‘You’re not getting any younger, Annie.’
‘Touché.’ Annie gave him a grin. ‘God, I feel exhausted. It’s bed for me.’
‘And for me. See you in the morning.’ He paused at the door. ‘Sorry, I forgot to ask, how did your date go?’
‘It was nice.’ She was still searching for the right words when he pulled the door open.
‘Nice? That good, eh?’ He gave her a little wink and he was gone.
Annie locked the door behind him and walked wearily down the corridor to her room. Of course it had been nice, and good. Alex was really good company, really handsome and very desirable. All right, the noisy sports car hadn’t really been her thing, and the casino definitely not, but she had enjoyed the goodnight kisses, even though they had awakened so many uncertainties and doubts inside her head. One thing was for sure: she liked him a lot and she wanted to see him again. But that, she knew, would have to wait until they both returned in the New Year.
Chapter 13
Paolina and Matt arrived at the school the next day together and for a moment Annie had a horrible feeling that, in spite of Paolina’s forthcoming date with her ski instructor, she and Matt might have hooked up, after all. As it turned out, they had just happened to get to the front door at the same time so Annie’s suspicions were groundless and she could relax. At least this time.
Paolina, who was wearing a remarkably conservative top and jeans, brought news from Rita about Signor Gruglio of the ABC School. It made interesting listening.
‘Apparently he’s scared stiff because the Sri Lankan girl who’s been running his school for the last two years is an illegal immigrant. With recent changes to the law, not only would she be in trouble if the authorities find out, but so would he as the employer.’
‘Mmh, sounds good. So what do we do with this knowledge? Shop him to the authorities and watch him get hauled off to jail?’ Annie didn’t really want to be a party to anything as radical as that, however nasty Signor Gruglio might be. Matt, who had been leaning against the frame of his door, listening carefully, had a proposal.
‘I’m taking my little friend from the local government out for a coffee later this morning. She may have more dirt on Gruglio but, even if she doesn’t, I can get her to give me the names of the appropriate people in the local education office in case we want to report him. Then I’ll go and have a chat with Gruglio and make him aware of how thin the ice is beneath his feet. Unless he’s a complete moron, that should put an end to his little tricks.’
‘No, Matt, it’s not fair for you be involved. This is my problem, not yours.’
He gave her a grin. ‘Don’t be silly. I wouldn’t miss it for anything, especially if I see that guy who was handing out the leaflets again. He cast a few nasty aspersions about my mother as he was leaving, and I’d rather like a word with him about that.’ Just for a moment the cheery, amiable expression left Matt’s face, to be replaced by something altogether tougher. Then he reverted to type once more and smiled. ‘Anyway, let’s see what my friend comes up with and then we can decide.’
‘Well, you just be careful. I don’t want you getting into any more fights.’
‘Me, fights?’ He gave her a look of surprised innocence that would have fooled most people, but Annie knew him too well. She shook an admonitory finger at him as he continued. ‘By the way, are you still on for dinner tonight? My stuff’s all supposed to be arriving around lunchtime from Florence, so I’ll be moving into the new apartment this afternoon. You know where it is, don’t you? It’s just up the road; the old 1920s building with the art deco-style façade. My flat’s on the top floor, number 5A. Come over when you’ve finished and we can slip down for a pizza together.’
He disappeared into his office and Annie went through to hers. She had a number of emails, among them the confirmation that the furniture would all be delivered the next day and, even more interestingly, an email from an officer at the local fire station asking for a detailed estimate of costs for an English-language course for a number of his men and women. Annie chuckled to herself as she composed a reply.
Before going across to see Matt that evening, Annie went out and bought a bottle of good Prosecco. His house was unmistakable. The entrance hall of this art deco wonder was magnificent, like stepping into a bygone age of intricate designs, parallel lines etched into the walls and lights like golden shells. Annie stood on the swirling marble floor and stared, awestruck by the beauty of the place. His flat was on the fifth floor, but fortunately there was a lift. It wasn’t the biggest of lifts and it wasn’t the most modern. In fact, it looked as if it had been installe
d back in the 1920s at the time the house was built. It was suspended inside a series of girders running up the middle of the building, with the staircase winding around it. The outer door was a steel concertina that had to be slid open with one hand while pushing the narrow inner double doors open with the other. Once inside, the outer door had to be slid home first, then the inner ones closed, before the lift would work.
Annie stepped inside with some trepidation that wasn’t alleviated when she pressed the button for the fifth floor and the lift lurched into life with a judder. It rattled and swayed on the way up, accompanied by some ominous creaks from the steel cable, until it stopped with a jolt at the top, swaying slightly from side to side. She was very conscious of the considerable drop beneath her feet as she pulled open first the inner, then the outer, doors, and made her escape, remembering to close the double doors behind her.
As she walked along to the door to 5A she glanced over the banister at the long drop down to the lobby below and decided, very definitely, that she would use the stairs in future. No way was she going back in that contraption. She knocked on the door and a few seconds later Matt appeared. His eyes dropped to the bottle in her hand. ‘I knew you’d go and do something like this. There was no need.’
‘There was every need. I’ve just come up in the lift. Only alcohol can save me now.’
‘I thought you were looking a bit pale.’ He grinned and beckoned her in. ‘What do you think?’ He stepped back so she could get a good look at the place.
Annie stood and gaped. It was a time capsule. The walls were covered in amazing patterned wallpaper, now predominantly brown and yellow, but no doubt a lot brighter ninety years earlier. The curtains had probably started life as a match, but a combination of wear and sunlight had bleached them almost transparent, not dissimilar to one of Paolina’s more outrageous outfits. The floorboards were a rich dark chocolate brown, maybe originally mahogany or oak, and the doors were magnificent works of art, composed of glass and metal in sweeping geometric patterns, punctuated by vertical lines. The light hanging in the middle of the living room was an intricate, coloured-glass, mushroom cap. It was totally stunning and, for a moment, Annie wished her traditional wooden chalet with its ultra-modern interior was more like this. What a place.
