A Wedding in Italy: A feel good summer holiday romance (From Italy with Love Book 2)

by Tilly Tennant

  ‘No, please don’t do that!’ Kate groaned. This was Alessandro all over again. She didn’t need anyone talking to her landlord on her behalf and she didn’t want to rock the boat and risk losing an apartment that she liked. Well, perhaps like was stretching it, but it would do her well enough, and she would much rather avoid the stress and upheaval of trying to find another place when she was barely settled in this one. ‘I wish I hadn’t told you now. . .’

  Abelie rubbed her arm. ‘Come now, I do not want you to feel sad. I want to hear about your dresses; it is exciting and soon the whole of Rome will be talking about them.’

  ‘I doubt that, but I appreciate the sentiment. It’s a start at least, and it’s more than I’ve managed to do in the last month of trying to get my business off the ground.’

  ‘You will be a success; I know it. But you must be patient.’

  ‘I know. Patience is hard when the money is bleeding from my bank account faster and faster every week.’

  Abelie frowned. ‘It is not like you to be sad about things. You are always hopeful, always happy. What happened?’

  Kate shook her head. ‘Ignore me. Of course I’m not sad – I’m living a dream that few other people get to live. I’m in Rome, with the most fantastic boyfriend and his wonderful family. You’re right – if I keep working on it and I’m patient, I’m sure it will all come good. I just thought that people might be a bit more enthusiastic about what I do, that’s all. I didn’t imagine that it would be such hard work to convince people to buy from me.’

  ‘You need a shop. People cannot buy what they cannot see.’

  ‘Right again, but that won’t happen any time soon.’

  ‘Va bene, but for now I have made these cards to get you some alteration business. See. . .’ Abelie reached for a stack of cream business cards sitting on a nearby table and handed them to Kate. They were inked in an elegant slate-grey font, the details written in Italian apart from Kate’s name. Underneath the main body of text was a short paragraph in English:

  English-speaking seamstress – repairs and alterations undertaken, reasonable rates and excellent work.

  ‘That is for the expatriates and the tourists,’ Abelie explained, indicating the final sentence with a perfectly manicured nail. ‘There are many in Rome and they would be glad of an English woman to help them, I’m sure.’

  Kate looked up at her and beamed. ‘They’re fantastic! Where on earth did you get them? You didn’t make them, surely?’

  ‘Bruno. He works for the print shop and he made them for me.’ She gave a coy smile. ‘He can be very useful.’

  ‘Is this Bruno who got dumped but is still madly in love with you?’ Kate said, trying but failing to give her a look of disapproval. ‘Shame on you.’

  Abelie’s smile turned into a broad grin. ‘I may decide to let him ask me to dinner again. He is not horrible.’

  ‘You are, though,’ Kate said, but then she broke into a grin too. ‘I suppose if I was as pretty as you I’d be stringing a whole heap of men along.’

  ‘Stringing a whole heap of men along?’ Abelie frowned. ‘I do not understand. . .’

  ‘Never mind,’ Kate said, putting the business cards back on the table and giving Abelie a warm hug. ‘Grazie. It’s a wonderful thing for you and poor Bruno to do for me.’

  ‘Prego.’ Abelie beamed, clearly happy to have done Kate a service. If only all Alessandro’s sisters could be so easy to win over.

  ‘Where are Maria and Lucetta?’

  ‘Getting their hair cut.’ Abelie patted herself on the head, as if just to be clear on it.

  ‘Oh.’

  ‘Yes, they are supposed to be here,’ Abelie confirmed. ‘Mamma is unhappy. She says Lucetta maybe she can spare because she is getting married and everybody will look, but Maria is not the bride and nobody will be looking at her hair.’

  ‘I suppose we should make a start without them, then,’ Kate said, choosing not to comment on Maria and Lucetta’s absence. In the circumstances, she wasn’t exactly broken-hearted about it – at least, not about Maria anyway.

  Signora Conti returned, staggering under the weight of a huge box. Kate and Abelie ran to take a corner each and helped her place it on the table.

  ‘Wow, they’re heavy,’ Kate said. She looked at Abelie. ‘How do you say heavy in Italian?’

  ‘Pesante.’

  ‘Sì.’ Signora Conti nodded. ‘Molto pesante!’

  ‘These are the almonds?’ Kate peered into the box. ‘They look lovely.’

  ‘Mamma has candied them all herself,’ Abelie said, the pride obvious in her voice.

  ‘She has?’ Kate smiled at Signora Conti. ‘Molto bella! They look amazing!’

  Signora Conti waved away the compliment, but it was clear from the way she was beaming that she was enjoying the praise just the same. Disappearing into the kitchen, she returned a few moments later with a pile of tiny muslin bags and a crate of delicate pink flowers that looked a little like forget-me-nots, though Kate wasn’t sure what they actually were.

  ‘We will put five almonds in each bag and tie them up with a ribbon and a flower,’ Abelie said.

  Five almonds each didn’t sound like much of a gift, but when the guest list was close to four hundred people, Kate supposed that was actually quite a lot of almonds. They were probably lucky they were getting almonds at all.

  Signora Conti said a few words to Abelie that Kate didn’t catch, and then went back into the kitchen. Abelie dragged the box of almonds towards her and produced a scoop from within.

  ‘I will count the nuts into the bags and I will pass them for you to tie and make pretty with the flowers. You will do that better than me.’

  ‘Where’s your mother gone?’ Kate asked as she took a pile of bags.

  ‘She has to prepare lunch.’

  ‘This early?’ Kate glanced up at the clock.

  ‘Yes.’ Abelie nodded cheerily. ‘A special lunch for Lucetta. It is her last as an unmarried woman.’

  ‘I suppose so,’ Kate replied, though it didn’t make much sense to her that Alessandro’s mother should be faffing around in the kitchen all morning when they had so much to do and were down two pairs of hands already. It wasn’t like Lucetta would never have lunch there again once she was married. But what didn’t make sense to her obviously did to Signora Conti, and there was no point in dwelling on it – a lot of things Signora Conti did or said didn’t make much sense to Kate. . .

  The next half hour passed pleasantly, Abelie describing some of the more eccentric family members Kate could expect to meet at the wedding – like Uncle Carlucci, who just loved telling new listeners about his extra nipple, and after a few drinks would be even happier to display it, and Cousin Sophia, who led everyone to believe that she travelled the length and breadth of Italy singing opera, though Cousin Flavia knew someone who knew someone who had seen her performing at a rather less cultured lap-dancing club. There was Aunt Speranza, who sat in her garden day after day listening to her vegetables growing, and ninety-year-old Uncle Michele who lived up north. While other pensioners of his advanced years were expending all their energies simply on staying alive, he still belonged to a boxing club that he attended five times a week and bombed around the shores of Lake Garda on a motorbike salvaged from an army base during the Second World War. Kate thought they sounded like a wonderful, if slightly daunting, bunch, and she was looking forward to getting to know Alessandro’s extended family better. The only thing that caused her a great deal of anxiety about it all was how they would receive her, particularly if Maria or Alessandro’s mother had primed them beforehand. It was a worry that she expressed to Abelie (whilst leaving out the parts about Maria and Signora Conti’s potential influence) but Abelie merely smiled warmly and exclaimed that she couldn’t see how Kate could possibly fail to charm them as she had everyone else. Except for Maria, she added, but everyone knew that Maria could take issue with the Virgin Mary herself, and nobody would know the reason why, not even Maria. T
he idea of Maria picking a fight with Jesus’s mum made Kate giggle, and then Abelie giggled too, until they were helpless at the idea. Then Signora Conti came through from the kitchen with coffee and biscotti for them, so they downed tools for a short while and engaged in small talk while they enjoyed their refreshments.

  And just when Kate had completely relaxed, happy to be in the company of Abelie and her mother, Lucetta arrived. She smiled broadly as she greeted Kate, and then Maria appeared, her greeting far more stiff and formal and clearly made as a grudging courtesy. Kate could cope with that, but her breath caught in her throat when another figure entered, and she looked past Maria to see that Orazia had followed them in.

  ‘You remember my friend Orazia?’ Maria asked Kate, with a smile that spoke of her delight at seeing Kate squirm.

  ‘Yes. . . buongiorno.’ Kate gave Orazia a brisk nod, unsure of the etiquette here. While she and Orazia had met before, it was in a professional capacity when Kate had gone to the police station to report a robbery during her first visit to Rome, and Orazia had been the officer in charge of the front desk who had first dealt with the complaint. It wasn’t until later – after a great deal of scowling and black looks in Kate’s direction, along with a rather rubbish anonymous and threatening phone call – that Kate discovered Alessandro’s sister and Orazia were best friends, and that both of them had very definite plans for Alessandro’s future, which involved Orazia getting her happy ending with him – at least until Kate had turned up to throw her English spanner into the works. She hadn’t seen Orazia since the phone call, and she was fairly certain that she wasn’t forgiven one bit, but this was a family situation, and didn’t they at least have to pretend for the sake of courtesy that they liked each other?

  She was spared any further torture on this point by Signora Conti rushing towards Orazia and embracing her, while Abelie simply raised her eyebrows slightly at Kate and Lucetta looked very awkward about the whole situation.

  ‘It was a great surprise – Orazia was at the hair salon when we arrived,’ Lucetta explained hurriedly to Kate. ‘Maria asked if she would like to see Mamma.’

  Kate did her best not to show her despair in the smile she gave to Lucetta. Poor Lucetta was doing her best to keep the peace, and she didn’t need this sort of stress on the eve of her wedding when she would have enough for twenty people already. As for Maria, Kate was pretty sure that Orazia’s presence at the hairdresser’s was no surprise to her at all. And she was quite certain that the only reason Maria had brought Orazia home was to taunt Kate.

  At Signora Conti’s beckoning, Orazia, Lucetta and Maria all took a seat at the table, and Signora Conti rushed to the kitchen – presumably to get more coffee and biscotti. Orazia and Maria both directed penetrating stares at Kate, with fake smiles plastered to their faces, while Lucetta glanced from one to the other, and Abelie, with an impatient sigh, turned her attention back to counting out almonds. Kate wished she could do the same, but she understood that she was compelled to make some kind of conversation in this situation – she just didn’t know what it should be, and she didn’t particularly want to in any case.

  ‘You are living in Rome now?’ Orazia said, the smile that was all show still stretching her face wide.

  Kate nodded. ‘Yes.’

  ‘You like it? You are brave to come back after you were robbed on the street.’

  ‘It wasn’t so scary. . .’

  ‘Hmmm. I thought you looked very scared the day you came to the Questura.’

  ‘Did I? Well, I didn’t mean to give that impression. And the police made me feel a lot safer.’

  There was a stifled guffaw from the direction of Abelie, who simply buried her head deeper into the box on the pretence of scooping out some more almonds. Kate supposed, on reflection, that her comment had been inadvertently funny. One policeman in particular had made her feel a lot safer and she had ended up dating him, and it must have sounded as if Kate had just scored a point against Orazia for apparently reminding her of that little outcome, even though that wasn’t what she’d intended at all. ‘I’m very happy living in Rome,’ she added.

  Orazia nodded stiffly. ‘You have work?’

  She knew Kate didn’t have work yet – Maria would have told her that. But Kate didn’t take the bait. ‘Not yet. But I’m hopeful to get something soon.’

  ‘You will have to go back to England if you do not get work?’

  You wish, Kate thought as she aimed her most saccharine smile at her nemesis. I’m not going to make it that simple for you. . .

  Maria jumped into the conversation before Kate could come up with a suitable reply. ‘No money, no rent,’ she said, looking at Kate. ‘It is sad but that is how the world works.’

  ‘Oh, I’ve got some money I borrowed from my sister if things get bad,’ Kate said.

  ‘But that will not last forever,’ Maria insisted, and Orazia clucked in agreement.

  ‘No,’ Lucetta broke in, ‘but we would help Kate to stay in Rome. After all, she is almost family now.’

  ‘Not yet,’ Maria said firmly.

  ‘But when Alessandro marries her she will be. . .’ Lucetta replied, and aimed a surreptitious wink at Kate, who had to fight hard to suppress a smirk. There was no love lost between Orazia and Lucetta, and thank goodness Kate had at least one ally in her bid to stave off the competition. Alessandro himself was quite adamant that he would rather chew off his own ear than go on another night out with Orazia, and he had seen quite enough of her tempers and mood swings during their brief relationship for him to know she wasn’t someone he could make a future with. But it was the fact that they had been involved in a relationship, and that Orazia was a policewoman who could understand the demands of Alessandro’s job in a way Kate never could that sometimes troubled Kate in the wee hours of the morning. And not necessarily just Orazia, but any woman who had a lot more in common with him than she herself did – which was pretty much any woman Signora Conti tried to foist upon him. She and Alessandro had been brought up worlds apart and their life experiences had been so different – would those differences one day become problems for their relationship? Her head told her no, but sometimes her uncertain heart made her judgement very poor indeed. Once, she had imagined that her marriage to her ex-husband Matt was rock solid, and all it had taken was one particularly cruel Friday the thirteenth to show her that all she’d believed of that life had been a lie. Now he was living with a girl who’d become pregnant almost as soon as she’d met Matt – ironic when you considered that Kate had been desperate for children but Matt had been dead against the idea. As far as she knew, he still was, but it was a bit too late for that particular lament now.

  The warmth from Lucetta’s show of solidarity faded quickly as Kate reminded herself of all this. She looked across at Maria and Orazia and forced a careless smile. But inside there was sudden turmoil. When she really looked at Orazia, the woman was gorgeous. Not a vague, fragile prettiness, in the way that Kate regarded herself on a good day, but Orazia was handsome – fire in her eyes, full-on sex appeal and the kind of figure Hollywood stars paid thousands for surgeons to give them. She was the sort of woman who made strangers in the street stop and stare. Try as she might, Kate found it difficult to be relaxed about the fact that she and Alessandro saw each other every day at work. How hard was she trying with Alessandro when Kate wasn’t there? She was finding it hard to shake the little barbs that sank into her heart as she looked at the woman who would be her rival. Why had Orazia chosen to come here today of all days, just when Kate had been settling and having fun with Abelie? Who knew, if she hadn’t turned up to ruin everything, perhaps Kate could have made progress with Maria too as they worked together?

  ‘Kate has only just arrived in Rome,’ Maria said, indignation in her tone. ‘Alessandro cannot marry her so soon.’

  ‘I think Alessandro will never marry,’ Orazia said nonchalantly, but she looked slyly at Kate as she did so, and it was clear she was hoping for a reaction. Well, Kate
wouldn’t give her one.

  ‘Marriage is overrated,’ she said airily. ‘And if Alessandro never asks me I won’t care.’

  Lucetta stared at her, her mouth now open. Even Abelie looked up from her task and blinked in disbelief. Immediately, Kate realised she’d said the wrong thing. The fabric of their entire family was built on marriage, and she knew very well how important and sacred the institution was to them all, especially Signora Conti. She might as well have said that she was going to tie Alessandro up and keep him in the cupboard as a sex slave. But she couldn’t take it back now without looking weak in front of Orazia, and so she pretended that she meant perfectly well what she had said and dared anyone to challenge it. ‘It is the twenty-first century, after all,’ she added for good measure.

  ‘I wonder if Alessandro knows your feelings. . .’ Maria said. ‘I am sure Mamma will be interested to hear them.’

  Lucetta turned on her, an argument erupting in rapid Italian. Kate made out something about Maria being a troublemaker, their mother being sent to an early grave and Alessandro being in love, but then Abelie and Orazia joined in, and with so many other voices all speaking at the same time, she lost the thread and fell too far behind to translate any more. In all honesty, if the same argument had been raging in English, she would have been hard-pressed to keep up with that too. Her own sister, Anna, could be opinionated, and she, Kate and their youngest sister, Lily, had their disagreements, but the Conti sisters were something else.

  It was as Signora Conti rushed in to see what all the clamour was about that Orazia pushed her chair from the table and stood primly. She said something to the room that Kate couldn’t catch and then swept from it. Maria glowered in Kate’s direction before chasing her friend, while Signora Conti stood, open-mouthed, staring at the direction they had both just disappeared in. Maria and Orazia could be heard quite clearly from the hallway, and even though their conversation was still in their native tongue, Kate could tell that she featured rather heavily in it. The problem was, so could everyone else, and when it got to the bit where Orazia made no secret of the fact that she thought Kate wasn’t good enough for Alessandro, that she was already causing the sort of trouble in the family that threatened to cause a real rift, and that she had insulted Orazia, who was their guest (although Kate couldn’t see how she’d managed to do that in the short time Orazia had been there, and was quite regretful that she hadn’t been told beforehand she was going to get accused of insults, because she would have thought of some really juicy ones to justify the accusation), Signora Conti’s expression had darkened. For a split second, as she watched, Kate could see exactly where Maria had inherited her scowl from. And Lucetta, though Kate suspected they had different reasons for looking angry.