winced. ‘Mi dispiace!’
She tried to make her shrug nonchalant. ‘I follow the game because my best friend’s father is a rugby fanatic, her brother too. I used to watch Gareth’s school matches with Meg, then his club matches later on. Once he even got us tickets for an international at the Millennium Stadium in Cardiff.’
‘An impressive arena,’ he agreed. ‘I have been there to watch Italy play against Wales.’
‘Do you miss playing rugby?’
‘Yes.’ He shrugged impressive shoulders. ‘But I have no time for sport in my life now, except to watch on television. Will such an ardent rugby-fan look at me in disgust if I confess I also follow Fiorentino, the local soccer-team here?’
Alicia shook her head, smiling. Then she glanced at her watch and saw that they’d been sitting there far longer than she’d thought. With a sigh she replaced her dark glasses and pulled her hat down low over them. ‘It’s time I got back to my friend. Thank you for the chocolate—and for being so kind.’
Francesco rose quickly. ‘Where are you staying?’
She gave him the name of a small hotel in a quiet residential area well away from the town centre. ‘It was recommended by one of my mother’s friends.’
‘Bene. I shall escort you back.’ He bent his head to smile under the green-lined brim of her hat as they left the table. ‘I must make sure you return to your friend safely on your special day, Miss Alicia Cross.’
On her own earlier the route to the Piazza della Signoria had seemed quite long while she was finding her way, but the walk back with Francesco was far too short for Alicia, as she talked about her plans for the holiday as though she’d known him for years. Which in one way she had. When they arrived at the hotel she held out her hand.
‘Thank you again. It was an amazing coincidence to meet you.’ She smiled shyly. ‘And such a pleasure.’
To her delight Francesco kissed her hand. ‘It was a great pleasure for me also, Miss Alicia Cross. I hope you find your friend recovered. Arrivederci.’
Alicia went up in the lift in a daze, gazing at the back of her hand as though Francesco’s kiss was engraved on it. She came back to earth as the doors opened and hurried to knock on the door of their room, calling softly, ‘Sorry to get you out of bed. It’s me.’
Megan Davies blinked owlishly when she finally opened the door. ‘You’re back soon. I thought you’d be ages yet.’
‘I was worried about you.’ Alicia eyed her critically. ‘How do you feel?’
‘Feeble, but not throwing up any more. I’ll be fine tomorrow.’ Meg sighed despondently. ‘Which isn’t much use. Your birthday’s today.’
‘We’ll celebrate it tomorrow. In the meantime, lie down again; you still look peaky.’ Alicia plumped her friend’s pillows up invitingly.
‘So come on then, Lally,’ demanded Meg as she subsided against them. ‘Tell me what you’ve seen!’
‘I found the Piazza della Signoria quite easily. It’s not far, and just as amazing as expected, like a great outdoor sculpture-gallery. I had a look at the Palazzo Vecchio, though I didn’t go inside, then I went past the crowds round the Neptune fountain to look at the replica of David and the statues in the Loggia dei Lanzi. The Rape of the Sabines is pretty realistic,’ added Alicia with relish. ‘But my favourite is Perseus holding the severed head of Medusa.’
‘Can’t wait! Did you splurge on a birthday hot chocolate at Rivoire afterwards?’
‘Sort of, yes.’
‘What do you mean, “sort of”?’
Alicia took in a deep breath, her eyes blazing with excitement. ‘You’ll never guess who I ran into.’
Megan’s eyes widened. ‘The minute you’re let loose in Florence? Who?’
With drama, Alicia described the incident with her bag and the man who came to her rescue.
Meg snorted. ‘You mean that after all my dire warnings you let someone pick you up?’
‘Yes, Mother Hen! Literally. Otherwise I would have fallen on my nose.’
‘This rescuer—was he Italian?’
‘What did you expect, someone from Cardiff?’ Alicia’s dimples flashed wickedly. ‘Are you sitting comfortably, Megan dear? Because here’s the bit you won’t believe. It was Francesco da Luca.’
Meg stared at her, open-mouthed. ‘The Italian winger from your rugby gallery?’
‘The man himself.’ Alicia laid a hand on her heart. ‘The object of my girlish adoration.’
‘Did you tell him that?’
‘Of course not. But I did say I was a rugby fan.’
‘So what happened then?’
‘He insisted on buying me a cold drink to get over my little shock—only I asked for chocolate—and we sat at one of the outside Rivoire tables. We talked for ages, then he walked back here with me.’ Alicia smiled rapturously. ‘It must have been fate that sent me tumbling in front of him.’
‘And kindly made me sick so you were on your own,’ said Meg darkly, then grinned. ‘But I’m glad you had some excitement on your birthday, love.’
‘My mother will never believe me!’
‘Nor mine!’ Meg yawned widely. ‘Look, I’m not up to eating yet, but you must be hungry.’
‘Not really, after the hot chocolate. And you still look tired, so get your head down again. I’ll read for a while outside on the terrace.’ Alicia waved a paperback with anticipation. ‘What a treat! Fiction to wallow in instead of endless text-books. Try to sleep. I’ll see you later.’
But when she finally settled under an umbrella Alicia was too wired to concentrate on her novel. Instead she leaned back, eyes closed, reliving every moment of the meeting with Francesco. Eventually she gave up even pretending to read and went inside to see if Meg felt like eating something.
‘Great—I was just about to text you! Those just arrived.’ Meg yanked Alicia into the room to show her the flowers on the dressing table. ‘The receptionist brought them up. The posy of carnations is for me, because the card wishes me a swift recovery, but the roses are for Miss Alicia Cross.’
Alicia gazed in delight at the creamy, half-open blooms. The message on the card wished her a happy birthday, and asked Miss Alicia Cross and her friend to give Francesco da Luca the pleasure of dining with him that evening. He would call for them at eight to see if this was agreeable.
‘Agreeable? It’s fantastic! Sorry I was nosy, but I just had to see what he said.’ Meg’s eyes glittered in her pallid face. ‘So get your party dress on, girl. This is your night!’
‘It most certainly is not! I’m not leaving
