She had beer. She was in Italy. It was warm. But she was hungry, boy was she hungry. Even the scabby-looking pizza would do.
Will looked up as if he’d heard her sigh and gave her one of his lopsided, cynical smiles. Was it commiseration or amusement? It was hard to tell.
Two goals in, thankfully to Roma, and Will stood up, offering to buy a second round of drinks. Giovanni, unable to peel himself from the action on the screen, held up his glass.
‘I’ll come with you.’ She wanted to check out the pizza. A slice would keep them going until dinner.
‘Pants!’ Damn. The chiller cabinet was now utterly bare. Lisa stared at it, hoping that something might miraculously appear.
‘Double pants,’ said Will, his lips turning downward. ‘I’m ruddy starving. I was hoping there might be a bit of that dodgy-looking pizza left.’
Lisa gave him a surprised look. ‘You must be desperate.’
He gave her a pitying smile. ‘Yes, but not to worry. I can leave lover-boy and bugger off to find somewhere to eat. Whereas you …’
‘Thanks. You’re all heart.’ She looked up at him. ‘You wouldn’t do that, would you?’ Her stomach growled at the very thought.
‘Er, hello. Yes, I would. I’ve come here on a food pilgrimage. I’m here, basically, to eat. Challenge my taste buds and treat them to some authentic Roman specialities. Not to sit in this dump and drink lager that is freely available back home. You, on the other hand,’ he said with mocking amusement, ‘are a guest. Ever so slightly beholden to your host. See, this is where inviting myself gives me the ultimate get-out clause. I notice you got the spare, spare room.’
‘Yes!’ She pouted. ‘How come? I should have had your room.’
‘Lisa, Lisa, Lisa,’ Will shook his head at her naivety as it suddenly dawned on her.
‘Oh.’
‘Oh? Come on. Surely you realise the price of a free holiday? I suspect young Giovanni is assuming you’ll move into the master suite at some stage.’
Lisa narrowed a glare at him, looking superior and smug as always. ‘He’s not that much younger than you and some men are gentlemen.’ She paused with great deliberation. ‘Sorry, forgot … not a concept you’re familiar with. You don’t have a gentlemanly bone in your body.’
Will grinned. ‘Do I need one?’ He looked down at himself and Lisa couldn’t help herself following his gaze. The well-washed t-shirt, featuring some band she’d never heard of, hugged his broad shoulders and skimmed his torso. It had shrunk at some stage and only just touched the top of his low-slung jeans. When he moved it lifted to reveal lean hips, the top of his jersey boxer shorts, which were unaccountably a brilliant turquoise blue and that damned trail of dark-blonde hair that stirred her up every time she caught a glimpse.
‘I’m quite happy as I am.’
She forced herself to look back at his face, a hot, unwelcome flush racing through her to meet his pale-blue eyes dancing as if he knew exactly what she was thinking. Lisa closed her mouth tight, fighting against the silly giddy pulse of her heart. Saying what she thought about him would make him think that she gave a toss and she bloody didn’t.
‘Another beer?’ he asked.
‘Yes please, although I’m going to need some food to soak it up at some stage.’
‘The Italians eat late, I’m afraid.’
And they didn’t have a crisp culture either, thought Lisa, scanning the back of the bar for any signs of snacks.
Will ordered three more Peronis and gave her two to carry back, while he settled the bill for a second time. ‘Can I get these?’ she asked.
‘No, you’re fine.’
Lisa wound her way back to the table, the noise almost taking off the roof as a unanimous cheer went up. Clearly someone had scored.
Taking a sip of Peroni, she pulled out the pocket guide to Rome, dislodging the small bundle of Euro notes, a begrudging gift from Nan, who’d muttered with her usual tart discontent, ‘Ancient history is best left alone. If that man wanted his ring back, he could have got in touch at any time and he’d have done so by now and he’d never have left your mother high and dry the way he did.’
She tucked the money into her purse and picked up the guide book, fingering the edge of the photo sandwiched between the cover and first page. Something bounced off the cover of the book as Will flicked a packet of pistachio nuts at her.
‘All they had, I’m afraid.’
‘Thank you.’
He nodded and gave her one of his twisted smiles, which made her stomach go a little squiggly inside. Damn, she didn’t want him to do nice things.
After another half hour, Lisa’s patience was starting to evaporate. Even poring over the sights of the Trevi Fountain, the Pantheon, the Colosseum, the Vatican and the Sistine Chapel, all of which she planned to visit, weren’t consoling her.
She was dying to know if Giovanni had spoken yet to his friend at the electoral register and found out if the address was still valid.
Nausea danced low in her belly as it struck her. If it was, she’d have to go. Really have to go. Knock on a strange door. Speak to someone she couldn’t even picture in her head. No excuses. What on earth what would she say? ‘Thanks for nothing mate.’ No, that sounded too angry, like she cared.
‘I’m returning this. I don’t need it. Rather like you.’
Unfortunately, she doubted she could frame the haughty, dismissive words as she thrust the ring box at him. Even in rehearsing the words in her head she could feel the give-away nervous croak in her throat.
‘I’ve done perfectly well without you.’
Who was she kidding? She’d probably burst into tears rather than manage a cool, detached demeanour. Shifting in her seat, she squirmed. It had seemed so simple at home. That remote fantasy. But the reality didn’t seem so appealing now. All the possible images in her head dissolved into a knot of pure terror. Suddenly she wasn’t sure this was such a good idea.
Looking up, she realised a) Will was studying her and b) she had chewed one fingernail to near death. She pasted a dismissive expression on her face and buried her head in her guide book with determined fervour, as if the shopping section contained the answer to the meaning of life.
Eventually Will got up and went to the loo and Lisa grabbed Giovanni’s elbow.
‘Have you spoken to your friend?’ she asked quietly, keeping a watchful eye on the door at the back of the restaurant.
Giovanni suddenly looked like a small boy caught out. ‘Bellissima. Don’t worry. We have all week.’
‘I know but…’
‘I will call Luca tomorrow.’
‘You mean you haven’t spoken to him yet?’
