by Paige Toon
I’d love to explore the medieval centre, but we’re also trying to squeeze Florence and Siena into our return journey so we simply don’t have time. As we say goodbye under a lavishly porticoed walkway, Francesca urges me to promise that I’ll come back one day so she can show me around properly.
When we arrive in Florence, another two hours have passed. Alessandro’s mood has continued to improve, but mine has taken a downturn.
It’s three thirty in the afternoon. It didn’t really occur to me how much we would be rushing today.
Alessandro checks his watch. ‘We’re going to have to be quick.’
He won’t tell me why, but thanks to his deadline we literally have to run through the streets of one of Italy’s most beautiful cities. There’s no time to stop and take anything in. The streets become narrower and busier and then we turn a corner and BAM, right there in front of us is an astonishingly striking building. It’s enormous – I have no idea how we didn’t catch sight of it earlier – but now it’s all I can see. The outer walls are decorated with a stunning grey and white pattern. At one end is a soaring bell tower and at the other, an enormous octagonal-shaped red-brick dome.
‘The third largest church in the world behind St Peter’s in Rome and St Paul’s Cathedral in London,’ Alessandro tells me. ‘Dedicated to Santa Maria del Fiore, the Virgin of the Flower.’
No one has ever sent me a postcard of this.
‘I’d love to see inside.’
He checks his watch again. ‘It closes at four thirty. Let’s go.’
The front of the building is even more striking. It’s faced with marble panels in shades of pistachio and apricot, bordered by white.
Once we’re through the front doors, we have time to wander and take everything in. The underside of the dome is painted with a representation of the Last Judgement and I stand and stare up at the glorious artwork for a while before realising that Alessandro is no longer with me.
I find him over by a beautiful tree-shaped candelabra. Dozens of tealights flicker prettily at the end of its ‘branches’, and as I approach, I see him drop some coins into a moneybox and pick up two unlit candles. He places them in empty branch spaces and lights them with a match.
It’s only then that he notices me, holding eye contact for the briefest of moments. He doesn’t seem to mind that I’m there so I continue forward until I’ve reached his side.
We stand and stare at the flickering candles.
‘I was out for a wander last Sunday and saw you coming out of a church,’ I admit.
He stiffens and glances at me. ‘Why didn’t you say anything?’
‘You were walking away too quickly for me to call out.’
My gaze drops to the gold chain glinting against his skin. I reach up and gently extract the tiny cross pendant from beneath his black shirt.
‘Did this belong to your mother?’
He nods, his expression conflicted. He turns slowly and pulls me into his arms.
At first I can’t breathe, but then I melt into his embrace, feeling sick with a miserable sort of happiness as he holds me close.
‘I’ve missed touching you,’ he whispers. ‘I know we shouldn’t.’
I tense up, wondering why he would say that now when he didn’t seem to think there was anything wrong with it before.
‘Logan thought there was more to us,’ he explains. ‘He was worried I was sending mixed signals.’
I don’t say anything, but I’m frozen.
‘I just want so badly to be close to you,’ he adds.
I tighten my grip on him because I want that too.
Even though it hurts.
The cathedral is closing so we have to break apart, but he takes my hand as we walk to the exit.
‘The dome is open until seven p.m.,’ he tells me. ‘Shall we walk to the top and look at the view?’
‘That sounds perfect.’
Several hundred steps later, I’m feeling less enthusiastic. Alessandro smiles at me as, once again, I have to come to a stop to catch my breath. He’s not panting, not even slightly!
‘It’s all right for you, you climb mountains,’ I mutter.
‘We’re almost there,’ he replies encouragingly.
We come out onto the roof and stand amid the white marble pillars that hold up the decorative spire. The cathedral looms over everything else, with the exception of the nearby bell tower belonging to Palazzo Vecchio, and all around us is a city sprawling with red rooftops.
All of a sudden, I feel dizzy. Stumbling backwards, I seek out a pillar to clutch on to.
‘You okay?’ Alessandro asks with concern, his hand darting out to steady me.
‘I’ve never been anywhere this high before,’ I tell him, a cold flush washing over me.
‘Are you afraid of heights, Angel?’ he asks with mild amusement.
‘I don’t know. Am I?’
‘I think you might be.’
He comes to stand at my side, leaning against the pillar and taking my hand again.
‘This dome was designed by a competition winner, Filippo Brunelleschi, in 1418,’ he tells me. ‘It’s still the largest brick dome ever constructed, capable of withstanding lightning and earthquakes and also, clearly, the passage of time,’ he adds.
‘Are you trying to distract me with your facts?’ I ask.
‘Is it working?’
‘Not really.’
‘You want to go down?’
I nod. ‘Please.’
My dizziness passes as soon as we reach the staircase. But as we start to descend, I feel like a failure. What a missed opportunity.
We’ll never do Florence justice in the time that we have and it’s hardly worth visiting Siena at all. I’m sure it’ll be lovely in the dark, but I’d like to see it in the daytime.
Maybe I should stay the night in Florence and catch the train to Rome via Siena tomorrow.
‘Do you want to stay the night here?’ Alessandro asks as we come out into the daylight.
I spin round. ‘Could we?’
He smiles at the look on my face as he gets out his phone. ‘I’ll call Giulio. He shouldn’t mind covering me for another day.’
I’m so happy and relieved. I was dreading the thought of trying to work out Florence’s train system.
‘All fine,’ he says when he’s ended the call. ‘Shall we check out hotel options?’
‘Will you stay in one too?’ I ask curiously.
He shakes his head. ‘I’ll sleep in Frida.’
‘Can’t I—’ I stop short.
‘You want to sleep in Frida too?’ he asks with pleasant surprise. ‘You can crash in with me if you want to. The bench seat folds down.’
‘Okay.’ I grin at him.
With that decision made, we don’t have to rush. Alessandro wants to show me the view from a lookout point at sunset, so we make our way to the van at a leisurely pace, stopping at a cosy Enoteca for a bite to eat.
Back in Frida, we drive a short distance before crossing over the river and winding up a hill. The landscape around us becomes very lush, and then Alessandro pulls off the road into an open-air car park.
‘Piazzale Michelangelo,’ he says, finding a place to stop. He climbs between the two front seats and opens his tiny fridge, pulling out a bottle of prosecco.
‘I thought we might make it for sunset drinks somewhere,’ he tells me, grabbing a couple of tin mugs.
Sitting on a wall, we gaze down on one of the most stunning city skylines in the world. Even from this distance, the cathedral looks huge, dwarfing everything around it.
The sun reflects off the river, shining through the bridges’ arches as it sets. To the right, behind the cathedral, the hills are hazy, graduating in darkness and colour from inky mauve to bluey-grey.
The cathedral walls glow orange and its dome and all of the red-tiled rooftops flame a brilliant red. I can barely breathe, it’s so beautiful.
I realise that Alessandro is watching me.
&nbs
p; ‘You’re missing the sunset,’ I murmur.
‘The look on your face is better than the view.’
I purse my lips at him, but I realise he’s not joking.
‘I wish I could see the world through your eyes,’ he says wistfully.
‘I wish you could show me the world,’ I reply, and I mean it.
Pain lances his features.
‘What’s wrong?’
He recovers, but doesn’t answer me. Instead he asks, ‘Do you like it here?’
I nod. ‘This is the country I’ve dreamed of visiting more than any other and it’s everything I wanted it to be.’
‘And things are going well with Giulio?’
‘Really well,’ I reply. ‘I’m feeling comfortable with him now and I know we’ll only grow closer with time.’
‘I noticed how relaxed he is around you. I think he was nervous at first.’
‘So was I.’
‘I’m glad you’re getting to know each other, and also Serafina—’
‘Nonna,’ I correct him.
‘Yes,’ he says with a smile. ‘The whole family is happy that you’re here.’
‘Why are you so sad?’ I ask with concern.
He pauses before answering. ‘I have to leave soon.’
‘Leave? Where are you going?’
‘Roaming. My six months at Serafina’s are almost up.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘I set off on my travels in a couple of weeks.’
‘But I thought you worked at Serafina’s all summer?’ I can hear the panic in my voice.
He shakes his head. ‘I’ve been there for five and a half months already.’
How did I not know this? He suggested when we first spoke that I spend the summer in Rome and I guess I assumed he would be around, but I realise now that not once has anyone specified the time of year Alessandro comes to Rome. If he’s planning to leave at the end of July, that means I’ll be in Rome for over a month without him.
It frightens me how much the thought of this upsets me.
‘I wanted to get you settled with Giulio and the rest of the family before I left, so I am glad you are happy.’
‘I’m not happy now,’ I tell him, my insides churning. ‘I don’t want you to go.’
‘I’m not ready to say goodbye to you either, but I must.’
‘Why? What’s the rush?’
‘I can’t explain.’
‘Please, Alessandro!’
‘I can’t. I don’t fully understand why things are the way they are, but it’s something I’m unable to control.’
I stare at him with anguish, but he’s looking straight ahead, his face etched with concentration.
‘The city is lighting up,’ he prompts me after a moment.
I tear my eyes away from him to look at the view. The lights along the river are coming on, twinkling yellow in the darkening night, and the cathedral is up-lit by a golden glow.
‘Let’s go and set up for the night,’ he says at last.
While I’m brushing my teeth, he puts down the bench seat into the bed position and lays out his sleeping bag and pillow.
‘I only have one, so I’ll use this,’ he says of the orange quilted blanket that usually sits on top of the bench.
‘Will you be warm enough?’
‘I’ll be fine.’
‘Stay here with me for a bit,’ I say. ‘Shall we have another glass of prosecco?’
‘Sure.’ He barely drank a drop earlier. ‘I should have left the bench in the upright position.’
‘This is cosier.’
I crawl down to the end of the bed and wriggle into his sleeping bag. Resting my back against the rear window, I pat the space beside me. He joins me, knocking his mug against mine.
After a long drive earlier where we barely spoke, he now wants to know what I got up to in Venice. We talk for a while and sip our drinks. His sleeping bag is cosy and warm and I feel closer to him, knowing that he sleeps in it every night. At some point he draws the blanket over his legs.
‘So tomorrow,’ he says eventually, ‘we will walk into Florence over Ponte Vecchio. It’s an unusual medieval covered bridge that still has shops along it, like they did in the old days.’
‘Sounds great.’
‘Then we’ll go to Piazza della Signoria. You would like to see the statue of David by Michelangelo?’ he asks.
‘Absolutely.’
‘There’s a replica outside Palazzo Vecchio, the town hall. The original was moved to the Gallerie dell’Accademia, but we could go to see it if you want. Also, the fountain of Neptune, and we should definitely visit Uffizi, the art museum. Am I boring you?’ He’s diverted when he notices me yawning.
‘No! Sorry, it all sounds idyllic. I like listening to the way that you speak. Your voice is so slow and melodic. It’s lovely.’
I put my empty mug on the countertop and wriggle down into a sleeping position. I can’t be bothered to brush my teeth again.
‘I should let you get some sleep,’ he says.
‘Stay.’ I place my hand on his chest.
He doesn’t lie down, and after a moment, he reaches beneath my hair and unfastens my headscarf, freeing my curls. He gently strokes his hand over my hair, rhythmically, again and again.
The warmth in my heart spreads outwards into every inch of my body.
I feel it and I know.
I’m falling in love with him.
Chapter 39
‘Sono terrorizzato.’
I jolt awake at the sound of Alessandro speaking. Lifting my head, I stare at him in the darkness. I’d fallen asleep, nestled into his side, but he’s still sitting up, leaning against the rear window. His eyes glint at me in the darkness as he runs his hand over my hair.
‘Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you.’
‘It’s okay, I’m a light sleeper.’
He continues to stroke my hair soothingly, trying to lull me into dreamland again.
‘Why did you say you were petrified?’ I ask, not ready to be lulled.
His hand pauses. ‘You understood that?’
I nod. Only because of its similarity to the word terror. I noticed the likeness while trying to memorise a list of vocabulary.
He sighs quietly, but doesn’t answer.
I wriggle into a sitting position so we can talk on the same level.
‘Why are you scared?’
He stares at me in the dark. ‘This scares me,’ he whispers, indicating the two of us.
Suddenly I feel insanely jittery.
‘Don’t be scared,’ I say in a wavering voice, as if it were that simple. ‘It’s okay.’
His eyes drift to my lips and he shakes his head, looking away. ‘It’s not okay.’
‘It is okay,’ I argue, taking his hand and prompting him to look at me again.
‘I don’t want to hurt you.’
‘Why will you hurt me?’
‘I want to be close to you, but this has to stop. It can’t go any further.’
‘I don’t understand.’ I’m sure he’s thinking about kissing me and I want him to, desperately. ‘We’re adults. We’re capable of making our own decisions. If something is meant to be, we can’t end it just because of some silly promise to Giulio.’
‘It’s not my promise to Giulio that I’m worried about.’
‘Have you made a promise to someone else?’
He averts his gaze.
‘Who? Yourself?’
He doesn’t answer.
‘I care about you,’ I say. ‘A lot.’
‘That’s what I’m afraid of.’
‘You’re worried that I’ll try to stop you from doing something you’re passionate about? Well, I won’t. Not if it means that much to you. I’ll hate it whenever you throw yourself off a cliff, but I’ll learn to cope.’
‘I jumped yesterday,’ he divulges and fear zips through my body. He sounds agonised when he continues. ‘Usually it’s the only thing that makes me feel free. That mom
ent when I jump, that pure and utter clarity of mind… I’m focused, first on falling and then on surviving. But yesterday…’ He shakes his head. ‘Yesterday I wasn’t focused on the jump. I was focused on you.’
Warmth replaces some of my fear, but then I realise he’s not confessing to something he’s happy about.
‘I thought of you as I fell. I lost focus, lost the ability to count, pulled my chute too late.’
Now the horror is overwhelming.
‘I made it down safely, but it shocked me.’
‘Maybe that’s a sign that you should stop jumping,’ I say in as calm a manner as I’m capable of.
He shakes his head manically. ‘I can’t. I’ll never stop.’
His fervour seems almost pathological. I know he won’t be able to explain if I ask him to, so I don’t even suggest he try.
‘I’m sorry for waking you,’ he says abruptly. ‘Come on, we should get some sleep.’
He shifts down in an attempt to show me that he means it.
Hesitantly I follow his lead, but I can’t take my eyes off him.
He’s lying on his back, staring at the ceiling. My insides are breaking apart. I don’t know how to help him.
I reach over and brush my hand across his jaw before placing it on his chest. He breathes in sharply and covers my hand with his.
He’s still staring at the ceiling when I finally allow my eyes to close.
Chapter 40
It doesn’t surprise me when Alessandro reverts to diffidence on our return to Rome. But I’m not standing for it. Not now. Not after that conversation in Florence.
‘Oi,’ I call to him when he walks past the stockroom. I’m inside, getting a fresh apron.
He halts and turns around, standing at the door. ‘What’s up?’
‘Come here.’
He hesitantly walks inside, glancing over his shoulder.
My father is in the kitchen with Antonio and Maria, and Cristina is setting tables. We’re the only other ones here.
‘What is it?’ he asks, his expression unsmiling.
He looks especially gorgeous today, a shadow of stubble gracing his jaw.
I walk over to him and slip my arms around his waist. ‘I need a hug.’
‘Not here.’ His green eyes flash as he takes my wrists and unloops my arms from around his waist. His gaze drops to my lips before he quickly looks away. I feel skittish as I change the subject.
