by T A Williams
‘So, Steven, how do you fill your time now that you’re a gentleman of leisure?’ Debbie gave him a big smile.
‘He’s writing a book.’ Giancarla was quick to reply on his behalf and the pride in her voice was plain to hear.
‘How exciting! What sort of book?’
Steven gave her a wink.
‘It’s about an English girl who comes to Italy and falls in love.’
Debbie caught his eye. ‘So, where did you get your inspiration from?’
He was grinning now.
‘All just out of my head. No resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, as they say.’ His grin broadened. ‘Besides, my girl’s got short blonde hair.’
‘Ah, well, that’s all right, then.’ She smiled at the two of them. They looked so happy together. ‘Fancy you writing a love story!’
‘It’s a story about love, and then loss, and finally love again.’
‘Well they say you should write about what you know.’
She got two big smiles in return.
Lunch was generally deemed to be excellent by everybody. The dog got the leftovers and looked as though he shared the general opinion. They ate outside under the loggia. The huge table and benches Dario had made out of old oak planks just managed to seat all twenty-eight of them. It was a bit of a crush, but nobody minded. The grilled meat, bruschetta and salad all went well together and the soft pecorino cheese that came afterwards was exceptional. Debbie had managed to get this through Nando at the school, whose cousin was a shepherd, and she knew that she was especially privileged.
As they ate, there was constant chatter around the table and Debbie was pleased to see Virginia and Claire and their two boyfriends having a good time and clearly bonding well with Sam and Rory. The two married teachers had been invited, and although they hadn’t been able to come because of family commitments, Debbie was glad she had invited them. Even Claudia’s husband, Piero, began to loosen up as the day went on. It had not surprised Debbie to see him arrive dressed in a suit, collar and tie, but as the meal progressed, first the tie and then the jacket were discarded and Debbie got a view of the cheerful man beneath the formal exterior. He even told a joke about a doctor and a patient suffering from a boil on his bottom that had everybody laughing. He also told Debbie something else that put another smile on her face.
‘Have you heard about Isabella and Pierluigi? Their wedding’s off.’
‘Really?’
Could it be, Debbie wondered, that Pierluigi’s fiancée had finally worked out what kind of slimy toad she had been about to marry and had sent him packing? The only people to know about the events of last summer in Cambridge were Dario and his mother, so she affected only slight interest as she prodded Piero for a bit more detail.
‘Oh, dear, did something happen?’
‘He’s been offered a job in Dallas, Texas, and he’s taken it.’
‘Really, so when’s he going off there?’
Debbie was delighted that she and Pierluigi were soon to be separated by the width of the Atlantic Ocean. Since Claudia’s party, she hadn’t seen any more of him, but she had been living with the looming spectre of having to meet him again at Claudia and Piero’s wedding, now only a week away. Piero’s next revelation came as a massive relief.
‘He’s already gone. He left last week. It was all done very hastily.’ He lowered his voice. ‘To be honest, the administrators, not to mention his colleagues, at Careggi were pretty unhappy about his decision to leave so soon. Mind you, he always was selfish.’ He caught Debbie’s eye. ‘Sorry, of course you don’t really know him, but take it from me…’
Debbie nodded, but said nothing.
‘Anyway, they’ve put off the wedding while he goes over to Texas and starts the job. Isabella will go over and join him in a few months’ time, once he’s got accommodation sorted out.’ He caught Debbie’s eye. ‘Always assuming he doesn’t hook up with some American girl while he’s over there. He always did have an eye for the girls.’
Once again, Debbie made no comment.
For pudding, she had decided to make a couple of apple pies, following her mother’s recipe, and these were accompanied by several tubs of handmade meringue ice cream from a little shop on the outskirts of Florence, recommended by Steven. He had lost a lot of weight over the past few months and looked all the better for it. She noticed that his alcohol consumption had dropped almost to zero, although he accepted a half glass of Prosecco along with a small slice of pie. Clearly, the self-destructive drinking of recent years was now over for good.
Finally, after a coffee marathon involving her coffee machine and several borrowed moka pots, Debbie slumped down at the kitchen table alongside Dario and leant her head against his shoulder.
‘I don’t know about you, but I’m exhausted.’
‘You and me both.’
He kissed her gently on the top of her head and she reached for his hand. As she did so, she felt a cold, wet nose nudging her from under the table and glanced down to find a pair of soulful brown eyes staring adoringly up at her. Removing her hand from Dario’s, she scratched the dog’s ears.
‘So, have you enjoyed yourself, Byron?’
In response the dog grunted contentedly and slid down her leg until he was stretched out on the cool floor tiles, his paws, as usual, waving in the air. She looked back up at Dario.
‘Not a bad idea. There’s nothing I’d like better than to do the same.’
‘Maybe not under the table, but I quite agree.’ Dario glanced out of the open door. ‘We’d probably be missed if we slipped off to the bedroom – more’s the pity. But, as a substitute, how about a little walk?’
‘As long as it’s short. I’ve eaten far too much.’
‘Come on.’
The two of them got up and slipped away, accompanied by the dog. Dario led her across the vestigial garden, from which the heaps of building rubbish were gradually being cleared, and over to the old rose bush. Although the flowers hadn’t come out yet, the plant was a mass of little buds and Debbie had no doubt it would look and smell amazing when they all opened. Together they walked on until they reached the old bench and sat down, side by side, shaded by the big umbrella pine. As she did so, that same warm, cosy feeling of belonging gripped her and she felt like purring, in spite of her tiredness.
The hillside sloped steeply down towards the valley and away to the jumble of rooftops of Florence – the cupola of the Duomo and the bell tower alongside it standing out clearly against the distant horizon. A big grey and white butterfly fluttered past, pausing just long enough by the dog’s head for Byron’s jaws to open – but before he could snap at it, it flew off and disappeared into the rosemary bushes. The dog relaxed once more and let his eyelids droop. Debbie’s eyelids did the same as she rested back against the warm wood of the bench.
Then she felt a movement beside her. Dario’s arm, which had been resting around her shoulders, was removed and as she opened her eyes again, she saw he was holding something in his hand.
‘This seems like the right time and place to ask.’ He looked a tiny bit nervous, but he needn’t have been. ‘Deborah Waterson.’ He dropped down onto one knee. The dog, surprised to find Dario down at his level, jumped to his feet, wagging his tail and nosing him excitedly. Shrugging him aside, Dario reached his hands towards Debbie. ‘Will you marry me?’
She stared stupidly at the ring for a few seconds, seeing it sparkle in the Tuscan sunshine. A wave of overwhelming happiness rose up inside her and broke over her. She heard her voice reply as if it belonged to somebody else.
‘Yes, of course. Of course I’ll marry you, Dario.’
As she extended her left hand towards him, there was a sudden movement and Byron leapt forward, clearly interpreting these hands extended in front of him as an offer of food. Before either of them could intervene, the ring had disappeared into the ever-hungry dog’s mouth and down his throat.
‘Byron… For crying out loud!’ Dario looked horr
ified.
‘Byron, how could you?’
After the initial shock, Debbie found herself struggling to suppress a wave of mirth, but failed. Catching hold of Dario’s now empty hands, she dissolved into a fit of giggles. A few seconds later, she felt him squeeze her fingers lightly and opened her eyes, blinking to banish the tears of laughter and joy that now ran down her face. She was vaguely aware of the dog looking at her with an expression of concern, but not contrition, and Dario doing his best not to laugh out loud. He cleared his throat before speaking.
‘You’ll have to take it from me that it should fit. I measured your finger with a bit of string a few weeks ago while you were sleeping.’
Debbie was impressed, but then concerned. ‘The ring isn’t going to harm Byron, is it?’
‘You’ve seen the way he disposes of bones? He’s got the constitution and the alimentary canal of a goat. He’ll be fine. The problem is that you’ll just have a wait a while before you finally get to try it on.’ He grinned at her. ‘And I imagine it could probably do with a wash before you do.’
‘I don’t need a ring to tell me you love me, Dario.’ She took his face between her palms and kissed him. ‘Ring or no ring, I’ve got you, and that’s everything I’ve ever wanted.’
First published in the United Kingdom in 2018 by Canelo
Canelo Digital Publishing Limited
57 Shepherds Lane
Beaconsfield, Bucks HP9 2DU
United Kingdom
Copyright © T.A. Williams, 2018
The moral right of T.A. Williams to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act, 1988.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopy, recording, or any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.
A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.
ISBN 9781911591924
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places and events are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
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