The Ingredients for Happiness

by Lucy Knott

  It was home, a place where she had run around with her sisters building forts in the back room, enjoying countless sleepovers as a kid, waking up to the smell of sweet bread with lashings of Nutella, and where her love of music had only ever been encouraged during many weekends crooning to the sounds of Frank Sinatra and Massimo Ranieri. Here she could step back in time, be reminded of the simpler days and clear her head. When the time was right, she would see about getting her own place, but for now she felt content.

  It wasn’t until Levi jumped into bed that she realized she had been staring at her pillow, lost in a daydream of days gone by, swimming among the words Keira had written in her email.

  ‘What’s up babe?’ Levi asked, propping himself up on his elbow and using his other hand to gently tug at her hand and pull her into bed. There wasn’t a shadow of a doubt in Sabrina’s mind that she needed to tell Levi what was going on. But her words kept getting lost on the way to her vocal chords. She needed to be strong about this. Levi would understand and so would the rest of the band. City Heights Records had given them an amazing deal and a great opportunity. The boys were eager to get into the studio again. Sabrina knew they had plenty of songs ready to be recorded. Dan went everywhere with a notebook and she’d watched him scribbling lyrics down on their plane journey to Manchester, so they would be happy to oblige the record label’s wishes without protest, surely?

  ‘Hey beautiful, is everything alright?’ Levi queried again, a line appearing between his brows from worry. He squeezed her hand for gentle encouragement to share her thoughts.

  Sabrina turned to face him, mirroring his stance, one elbow propped up on her own pillow. ‘We need to focus now, get our heads in the game for this new album. Keira sent over an email today with some upcoming media concepts and messages from your publicist. I’m going to arrange to speak with them all tomorrow so we can get the ball rolling for appearances. I’ve got some ideas for promotional campaigns as we get into the studio and create a buzz for the new music,’ Sabrina said, then paused, biting her lip.

  ‘Head is in the game,’ Levi said, with a confident nod. Levi would go along with whatever Sabrina needed of him without complaint. He showed up, killed it behind the drums and charmed the journalists. If Dan needed help with a song, Levi would give his two cents and he wasn’t afraid to speak up and tell the other boys if something sucked. Occasionally he would throw a song at Dan that he had written himself and the two of them would put their heads together to bring it to life. For the most part, Levi simply loved being in the band and took it all in his stride, not one to lose focus even after a night partying, due to his loyalty and love for his bandmates. Sabrina leaned over and kissed him softly on the lips, taking a moment to appreciate who he was and how all these things added up to make him the man she loved, and to possibly soften the blow of what she was about to say next.

  ‘Okay, good,’ she started with a smile. ‘I’m going to need you guys to stay away from the café while we record this album and get into the groove of things with City Heights Records,’ she finished, pleased with herself for sounding assertive and business-like. It was the right decision. She was San Francisco Beat’s manager and she was the one that needed to make the right decisions, even if they were difficult ones to make.

  Levi’s smiled faded and the line in between his brows deepened.

  ‘Are you sure Bri? Amanda is there from dawn till dusk; Dan is going to want to see her. And I like it there, I like being around your family. I thought we could have band meetings there and boost Amanda’s outreach if we can,’ he said, his voice light as though he could make her change her mind and see that the café wasn’t any trouble at all. But Sabrina wasn’t going to budge on her decision. Today she had slipped up, not informing the label of the band’s spontaneous meet and greet. She had had no security in place, which could have been dangerous for the boys and extremely detrimental to Amanda’s business should anything crazy have happened to a fan. And pictures had been snapped of Amanda and Dan kissing. While Keira had given Sabrina her word that whom the band dated were the least of her concerns if they were all happy, the boys’ new publicist wasn’t happy with the shots. Dan was one of the most sought-after and drooled-over lead singers in the USA, if not the world. The record label had made it clear to Keira that he was to give the impression that he was single, and Keira had passed this information on to Sabrina.

  It wasn’t something Sabrina was pleased with, but if it meant keeping Amanda safe and out of media scrutiny and her band in City Heights Records’ good books, then she would have to do it.

  ‘I’m sure. Just trust me on this, okay?’ Sabrina said, putting her hand through Levi’s hair and cuddling up to him. The softness of the duvet and her body sinking into the comfy bed hit her all at once. Having gotten that off her chest, tiredness had moved into her brain.

  ‘If you’re sure,’ Levi said, kissing her softly on the nose and wrapping his arm around her waist before she turned over, becoming the little spoon to his big spoon, and gave herself up to the land of nod.

  Chapter 14

  Spaghetti with Butter

  Ingredients:

  Spaghetti (homemade when possible)

  Good quality butter (Grandpa liked the one with olive oil)

  Parsley

  Basil

  Garlic

  Olive oil (Italy’s finest, no blends please, you can taste the difference – spoilt, I know)

  What to do:

  Cook your spaghetti as instructed or until lovely and tender. (No al dente in Grandpa’s kitchen. Grandpa is so right. Do what he says.)

  Chop garlic and place in a pan with olive oil. Allow to turn golden.

  Chop parsley and basil.

  Once pasta is ready, add to your saucepan.

  Add your parsley, basil and a healthy spoon of butter.

  Season with salt and pepper and turn spaghetti over in the pan until covered.

  Serve with grated picante or parmesan.

  The booming and regal church bell rang out across the square and this time it didn’t cause Louisa’s heart to plummet to the soles of her feet. It had been over three months since that bell had signified a mark of respect and homage to her grandpa, at his funeral, yet the pain of that day often weighed heavy in her chest. Today however, it made her heart flutter with pride. As she shaded in the intricate almond hem of the flowing gown she was designing, she thought of her grandpa; of how he had guided her here to Italy and how life had picked up and swept her off her feet in such a beautiful euphoria of romance and all the cream cake she could eat, not to mention designs to be drawn up and dresses to be made.

  Her decision to stay in Italy for the Young Designers Showcase had been the right one. Though she had missed being with her sisters to celebrate Amanda’s big day, the showcase had been a dream. Louisa had felt nothing short of inspired and had not put down a pencil except to pick up a fork and devour whatever Luca put in front of her. As for Luca, concerns about him being a holiday romance over Christmas had started to ease the more time they spent together, which to be honest was an awful lot of time; there was barely any room left for concern. It had been replaced by awe, infatuation and adventure.

  As she sat tapping the end of her pencil against her sketchbook, lost in a daydream, her phone vibrated and shuffled a few inches across the table. Seeing Luca’s name illuminate the screen, her eyes darted towards the clock on the wall of her tiny back office. Ten minutes past twelve. Louisa’s stomach growled its disapproval at her being ten minutes late for lunch. She scooped up her handbag and headed for the back door. Louisa knew that the moment the clock had struck twelve, Giulia would have shut up shop and gone out to lunch herself; she did this every day when the two of them didn’t have plans. Today Louisa had been thoroughly absorbed in her thoughts and mustn’t have heard Giulia’s familiar shout of, ‘Fermati, è ora di pranzo!’

  The warm orange sun caressed Louisa’s cheeks when she stepped outside into the small alley behind the bouti
que. She quickly retrieved her Dolce and Gabbana sunglasses from her bag, which had been a gift from Giulia for doing her proud at the fashion show, so Louisa could look like a true Italian fashionista. She rounded the corner of the elegant shop front and instantly bounced off a tall, solid object and was sent wobbling into the nearby bush. Louisa rattled her fuzzy brain and couldn’t remember them having built a wall recently. She tried to loosen her sunglasses that had become imbedded in the bridge of her nose, as the wall reached out and offered a hand to help her up.

  ‘Amore mio,’ the wall sung out in a smooth velvet-like tone, that held a hint of laughter in it.

  ‘Luca!’ Louisa gasped registering that she had in fact bumped into a walking Luca and not a newly built brick wall. She reached up and took his hand, allowing him to pull her gently to her feet and back to a steady stance.

  ‘Luca, I’m so sorry,’ she expressed, wrapping her arms around his neck. Luca’s watch now read 12.15 p.m. and those fifteen minutes were precious in Italy when it meant getting a table for lunch. ‘I didn’t mean to keep you waiting. I was drawing.’ And daydreaming of you, she thought but didn’t say out loud.

  ‘It is no problem, Louisa. You work hard, ma now it is time for fun, si?’ His lips curved into a bright grin as he wiggled his eyebrows. Keeping hold of her hand he swiftly moved them into the throngs of people, leading the way to whatever lunch destination he had planned for today. In the few months that Louisa had been in Italy, Luca had been to visit her at work on her lunch break almost every day of the week. Each day he had surprised her by whisking her off to a new and delicious location. Her stomach growled in anticipation of today’s menu.

  Luca weaved them in and out of the hungry pedestrians with skill. Each were wandering the streets following the rich olive oil-infused aromas that seeped through the cracks of the café doors. Italy at lunchtime was heaving with people all ready to put their feet up and tuck into some of the finest delicacies the world had to offer. Getting a good spot in any restaurant or café was serious business; the quick marching and fierce expressions etched on passersby’s faces said it all. In a matter of minutes, it would all become serene again as people sat with their families and friends and enjoyed the food before them.

  Fortunately for Louisa and her belly, the man in charge of their direction worked in arguably one of the best cafés in Orzoro, so she didn’t have to worry about getting hangry. In fact, Luca had yet to see her hangry. That would be the bonus of dating an Italian and an Italian chef at that.

  Today Luca was moving swiftly and effectively through the crowds. They had walked – or rather, jogged in Louisa’s case, to keep up with Luca’s giant strides – further than they had before. The crowds began to disperse, and the alley ways grew narrower. Louisa searched the stone walls, plant pots and worn painted door arches in search of a restaurant sign or name, but there were none in sight. As they moved further along the cobbles, the alley lead to an open clearing, almost like a town square, and opposite where they stood, she could see fairy lights wound around a worn brown framed window and a white awning that read ‘Tony’s’.

  The place was only small; maybe ten tables. Once inside, Louisa’s stomach did a somersault as the aroma of baked mussels filled her nostrils; that familiar scent of olive oil mixed with garlic, parsley and breadcrumbs. ‘You are amazing,’ she gushed. ‘I have seen so many of Italy’s hidden gems because of you. There is more beauty here than even I could have imagined. Thank you for bringing me here,’ she finished as they took their seats at a tiny table overlooking the kitchen.

  Luca reached across the table and took her hands in his. ‘You are the more beautiful of hidden gems,’ he said, dropping a kiss to her palm as a petite waitress with a sweet face came to take their order. Scanning the menu, Louisa’s eyes bulged and her thoughts drifted to childhood as the descriptions of the dishes jumped out at her; mussels topped with fine breadcrumbs, parsley and garlic; spaghetti in a rich red wine tomato sauce – she felt lucky that growing up these were dishes she enjoyed weekly thanks to the chefs in her family.

  Though Amanda took the lead when they were younger and stayed glued to their zias’ sides, always wanting to be in charge of the wooden spoon and pushing Sabrina and Louisa out of the way on many occasions, Louisa had enjoyed the time together in the kitchen with them when they visited Italy – in addition to squeezing in besides Amanda every now and then to aid Nanna and Grandpa when cooking at home. Over the years she hadn’t been exercising her kitchen skills as much due to having the most amazing chefs around her and much preferring Amanda’s pasta to her own. It would be nice to make some more time while she was here to practice with her zias and her nanna once more. She could maybe even surprise Amanda with another recipe, as the torta caprese had gone down a treat. She smiled, thinking of how much Italy had inspired her, not only with her designs, but with a fresh zest for life in all areas, including love and cooking.

  It wasn’t long before the waitress came back, interrupting their discussion of the countries that they would love to visit one day, with a bowl of butter and garlic spaghetti piled high with a flower of baked mussels for Louisa and a mouthwatering lasagna layered with basil and mozzarella for Luca. Not able to wait a second for a sprinkle of parmesan offered by the lady, Louisa picked up her fork and began twirling the silky pasta around it. It was but an inch from her mouth when her phone rang. Immediately dropping her fork and sending Luca an apologetic closed-mouth smile, she dug into her bag to retrieve it. She hated to be rude at the table; phones were generally out of sight around an Italian dinner table and Louisa loved nothing more than switching off and enjoying Luca’s company. However, living away from home meant her phone was never too far away in case her family needed her. Seeing that it was Amanda, Louisa answered it right away.

  ‘Lou, hey, how’s my Italian fashionista doing?’ Amanda’s voice came down the line, cheery with a hint of flustered that made Louisa reach out, squeeze Luca’s hand and gesture ‘one minute’ with her index finger as she bowed away from the table to step outside. Luca, ever so understanding of how close she was with her sisters, waved her away with, ‘It is no problem,’.

  ‘All is good here, what’s up?’ Louisa asked as she stepped into the April sunlight and began pacing the narrow, cobbled pavement that was lined with potted lavender and rosemary.

  ‘It’s good to hear your voice, I’m glad all is well,’ Amanda said. Louisa was very aware that she was skirting around her emotions in typical Amanda fashion.

  ‘Amanda,’ Louisa said sternly, urging her sister to tell her what was so important she had to abandon a plate of mussels and buttery swirls of spaghetti.

  ‘It’s been two weeks Lou, two weeks. Sabrina has banned the boys from spending any time at the café. I know everyone’s busy, but I’ve barely seen Dan and I don’t know, it just seems a little drastic, don’t you think?’ Amanda sighed into the phone.

  Louisa was momentarily stunned, watching a tiny lizard weave in and out of the ridges and cracks in the low stone wall and into a quaint flower bed. Such a rule seemed so out of character for Sabrina. It was Amanda’s first few weeks running a café – she would need all the family support she could get. Taking the boys away from her, especially Dan, seemed harsh. She had to agree with her big sister’s flustered state on this one. Sabrina wasn’t being fair. But then again, Louisa had never overseen a rock band before; she didn’t know the drills or the demands of a record label.

  ‘Maybe it’s just for a week or so while they get acquainted with their new label. Try not to worry and surely Dan can come by after hours or when they get a break in recording?’ Louisa inquired, trying to be realistic and calm Amanda down. Maybe she could get Amanda to understand that Sabrina simply wanted the boys to focus on the music and not be distracted by Italian cakes. These all seemed like valid points. When recording sessions were over, Louisa couldn’t see them venturing to the café as a big deal.

  ‘No, it’s like Brina doesn’t want them to be associa
ted with the place. She doesn’t want them near it,’ Amanda replied, sounding downtrodden. ‘Anyway, sorry to moan. I shouldn’t be complaining.’

  ‘I’m always here to listen,’ Louisa started, feeling happy to be needed given that phone calls with her sisters had been few and far between recently. ‘And I don’t think it’s that, Amanda. Bri loves the café and is so proud of you. Speaking of which, how have your first two weeks been?’ Louisa asked, hoping to turn the conversation around and end it on a happier note. She gently ran her hand over a sprig of lavender and brought it up to her nose, inhaling the sweet perfume it left on her palm as she waited her sister’s response.

  ‘Honestly, it’s been a fairytale. Some nights I don’t want to leave. Does that make me crazy? I could just stare at the tables and booths and coffee bar all night, it’s all so beautiful and actually real you know? Maybe that’s what’s with my mood, I probably just need a good night sleep. And Dan is probably too focused on the songs in his head, he hasn’t even noticed the time away from each other.’ Amanda laughed. Louisa recognized the faint embarrassment in her sister’s laughter. Amanda was not one to get emotional and fuss over a man, her time with Jason had made her a little hard around the edges and she tended to shut off her emotions, though Dan had been the exception to many of her rules.

  Louisa chuckled. ‘Dan not noticing your absence or lack of time together would be like an Italian not noticing there’s no wine on the dinner table. Try and get some rest tonight. I absolutely can’t wait to see Torta per Tutti soon. Oh, and try not to worry about Bri, I’m sure it’s just new work jitters and she’s trying to do a good job,’ Louisa finished as her stomach grumbled.

  ‘Thanks Lou. Right I best get back to baking. Please give Nanna and everyone my love and tanti baci. Love you.’

  ‘Of course, love you too.’ Louisa paused slightly before moving her phone away from her ear when Amanda disconnected. She watched the tourists and native Napolitanas roaming the streets of Amalfi. Some people had their phones glued to their ears, a calzone wrapped up in a to-go style paper as they munched on the way back to their office, their lunch hour drawing to an end, while others enjoyed a more leisurely lunch break, lazily chatting to colleagues while dipping cantuccini into their thumb-sized espressos.