style="font-size:15px;"> Olivia sat on the arm of the chair. Crossing her legs and wrapping her arm around the wing, she breathed a sigh. ‘Oh, Nonna, what am I meant to do? There’s the business that, in all honesty, goes way over my head. As much as I want to make sure Gabriella and Nico remain secure, it’s too much. I have a business and home in England. I just couldn’t cope with both. And, this man Alberto? Nonna, I can’t think straight. I mean, what happened today? Where did he come from? He was so … I don’t know how to say it in words. It was here.’ She clutched her stomach.
‘Immediately I loved his eyes, even though he wears glasses. And he has this geeky look, but his pheromones ate right into my skin. But – and this is the problem – I don’t know if I’m doing right by jumping from one relationship to another so quickly. I’ve always done it. Not feeling like this of course, no, this is quite different; but I hate that I just need to feel loved without ever really feeling it back. And I was so determined to actually experience total independence.’
She buried her face in the arm of the chair for several seconds, squeezing her brow and equating herself to some mad person talking to herself. She shook her head. ‘I don’t know. I really don’t know.’
Sitting upright, she stared down at the seat for several seconds as if waiting for an answer. She peered to the other side of the chair. The inglenook still contained ashes from a fire. The beam above held layers of dust, along with several photographs of Angelo; one of her mother, Roz; and two figurines: a couple dancing and an old man wearing a sunhat. Was that Angelo too? she wondered.
At one end was a photo of them both in a gilt frame. Love emanated from their faces. Her mind flashed to Alberto’s face, and the moment of intense yearning between them. She took the frame in her hand and squatted on the hearth. A brush and poker lay flat in front of a woodpile and the rug was speckled with ash and slithers of wood.
Memories of sitting on the rug watching her grandfather build a frame of kindling came to her, the flesh of his fingers fearlessly feeding the flames with increasingly larger chunks of chopped wood until he was rewarded with a spread of flickering fire and heat. She knelt on the deep pile of the rug, feeling a sudden wave of warmth on her skin and a familiar touch, as though her nonna’s hand was stroking the back of her hair. She felt comforted, assured even that they were there and supporting her.
Minutes went by before Olivia stood and replaced the photo on the mantel beam.
‘I’d best get my phone and Alberto’s number, then get to work. There’s lots to do,’ she told the photograph firmly.
***
At one-thirty the following day, looking taller and even more handsome and more clean-shaven than she remembered, Alberto stood at the villa door. Her whole body trembled.
‘Ciao, beautiful lady.’ He beamed and took her hand before stepping forward to kiss both her cheeks. ‘I was so happy you called me. I don’t think I could have lasted much longer waiting to hear your voice.’
Without making too long a list of pros and cons, she’d carried out her promise, and producing a joyful smile, whilst trying to stay calm, she said, ‘Well, I’d pretty much made up my mind so I thought I should just do it. I’m looking forward to a tour. Step in while I lock up. What do you have planned?’
With the ground floor sparkling from all her rigorous cleaning and polishing, she left him to follow her as she closed the shutters and windows in the kitchen and sitting room.
‘First we’ll drive around to take in just some of the finest Tuscan landscape and then we’ll stop for lunch.’
‘Sounds wonderful.’ And so romantic, she wanted to add, but whilst she threw herself into scrubbing the floors this morning, she had promised herself that she would refrain from overloading her head with romantic notions and allow the relationship to gather its own momentum. She wouldn’t wish to reveal too much of herself at once and risk driving him away. She had done that too often and, in retrospect, must have sounded desperate.
The windows finally locked up, she grabbed her scarf and wrapped it around her neck, her fingers quivering as he followed her out the door and watched her lock it. ‘OK, I’m ready to go.’
He took her arm, and led her over to his car. Olivia’s eyes creased with curiosity as they approached the unusual compact car.
‘Don’t tell me. All electric?’
He opened the passenger door, revealing a clean and simple interior. ‘Isn’t she great?’ he said straightening his glasses. ‘I can plug her in anywhere. Her charger is on the car. And I can go up to two hundred kilometres for every full charge, which costs about two euros.’ Olivia recalled the wording on the business card as she sank into the passenger seat. ‘EV. Right. Electric Vehicle. Impressive. More than a hobby then?’
‘You could say, yes.’ Alberto leaned on the door, proudly. ‘I’ve always been gnarly as far as saving energy is concerned, probably a bit of a nerd. I was three when my dad built my first electric racing car, which was constantly running out of charge even with a huge great battery pack on the back. So, it’s fair to say we’ve come a long way since. We have five models so far, which are selling worldwide. It’s exciting.’
Running her fingers over the dash, she tapped it as she spoke. ‘That’s amazing. I imagine it’s very rewarding and I expect there’s a lot of resistance from petrol heads. Hats off to you, not only building the cars that will be a large part of the future but to have created demand around the world – just wow.’
He closed the door and when settled into the driver’s seat added, ‘It’s been challenging, and it is hard work, but worth it. We want to stay ahead with the technology. I’ve not had normal life for about fifteen years. Anyway, enough about me. What about you?’
Well that was a good start, she thought as he hit the start switch. He’s not just interested in his own world. As the car moved, the only sound was the tyres crunching on the gravel. ‘So quiet and so smooth.’
‘Yes, imagine how cool it will be when cars become autonomous. No driving, just lie back and relax.’
‘Really cool,’ she said levering back her chair and savouring the view.
‘So, we are straying. What is it you do?’
‘I’m an osteopath.’
Now he is going to wish he hadn’t asked, she thought, relishing the soft breeze skimming over her skin as they glided along country lanes, interspersed with narrow, steep hairpin bends. Olivia marvelled at the countless verdant rolling hills surrounding them, steeped in vines and the occasional villa along with landmark cypress trees and medieval hilltop villages. She was sure they were driving through heaven itself and, at some point, she would wake up and it would all be some mystical magical dream.
Sweeping what seemed like miles of flagstone floor, Olivia was feeling very much like Cinderella early the next morning. Waking to her alarm that she’d set for six, she’d thrown on her scruffiest jeans and a T-shirt, still dreaming of her shining prince.
Her day with Alberto had been simply beautiful and everything he’d promised. Apart from driving through the breath-taking scenery, on – he claimed – the most romantic route in Tuscany, they drove through steep narrow roads of medieval cities and walled towns, some he told her
