Dreaming of Florence Page 3

  ‘And, above all, there’s an overwhelming sense of history. The shops, the offices, even McDonald’s, are set in buildings that are three, four, five hundred years old. Sometimes, coming home from a night shift in the early hours, it feels as if you could turn a corner and meet Machiavelli himself, swaggering along the pavement towards you.’

  Debbie was conscious of the longing in her voice as she replied. ‘That’s exactly how I dream of Florence, you know. And the Duomo, is it as magnificent as they say?’

  ‘The Cathedral of Santa Maria del Fiore, to give it its full name, is one of the seven wonders of the world.’ He smiled. ‘All right, I’m biased, like all Florentines, but you’ve really got to see it. When you do, just remind yourself that when it was built, back in the Middle Ages, most of the people in Europe were still living in single-storey houses, most of them built of wood, bricks or even mud. If you just stand in front of the Duomo and look up, it goes on forever. It’s a symphony of white marble, punctuated by lines of green and red stone, the colours of the Italian flag.’

  ‘And the bell tower alongside it?’

  ‘The Campanile di Giotto shares the same colour scheme and it’s a wonderfully elegant structure. And of course, there’s the Baptistery as well.’ His eyes flashed in the lamplight. ‘I guarantee Florence will blow you away when you see the place for yourself.’

  Debbie smiled across the table at him.

  ‘You make it sound so amazing.’

  ‘It is amazing, Debbie. There’s no other word for it. No surprise that millions and millions of people every year flock to Florence. That’s just about the major disadvantage of living there: the crowds.’

  ‘I can imagine! I’m sure there must be all sorts of disadvantages to living in a tourist hub, but there are so many compensations.’

  ‘So why have you never been? Surely, now that you’re working, you could afford to take a holiday.’

  Debbie nodded hesitantly. ‘I’m not so sure about that. I’ve only just started paying off the debts I built up at university, but I’ve thought about it a lot, although I’ve never summoned up the courage to go over there to see it for myself. I know, it’s going to sound so silly, but, somehow, I didn’t want to spoil the image I’ve built up of it. You know – like meeting one of your childhood heroes and finding he’s got bad breath. Do you understand what I mean?’

  ‘I do, but I still think you should bite the bullet and give it a try. Mind you, you’re not too far off the mark with the bad breath thing – when it gets hot, the drains can certainly smell a bit. But, overall, I’m sure you’d find it as wonderful as you imagine.’

  ‘There’s something else as well.’ She hesitated, the idea that had been lying in her subconscious now stirring just about for the first time. ‘Student numbers at the school where I work have been dropping and I was wondering whether I might do well to start sussing out the chances of getting a teaching job elsewhere. And, if I decide to go abroad, naturally the first place for me to look would be Florence. Do you think there are many schools of English over there?’

  He smiled broadly. ‘That would be amazing. And, yes, there are quite a few schools, I’m sure. With so many tourists from all over the world, knowledge of English is essential nowadays. You should come over for a few days and look around. I’d be glad to act as your guide.’

  ‘That’s really sweet of you, but I don’t know…’ Before she could carry on, she heard a familiar voice.

  ‘Debs? Fancy seeing you here.’ There was genuine surprise in Alice’s voice. ‘So, are you going to introduce me to your friend?’

  ‘Hi, Al.’ Debbie’s heart fell – not at the sight of her best friend, but at the follow-up she knew was now going to have to endure over the coming days. Reluctantly, she pointed to Pierluigi, noticing his eyes focused on Alice’s bust. Mind you, she thought to herself, most men seemed to do that when they first met her. ‘Alice, this is Pierluigi. He’s from Italy and we bumped into each other yesterday. Pierluigi, this is Alice, my best friend, who always knows what’s best for me.’

  ‘So you’re the man who’s been knocking my friend about?’

  Pierluigi stood up politely and held out his hand, gallantly raising his eyes from her cleavage as he did so.

  ‘It was a fortunate accident. I’m very pleased to meet you, Alice.’

  Alice took his hand in both of hers and shook it. As he sat back down again, she shot a clandestine glance across at Debbie and raised both thumbs for a second, unseen by him. Clearly, she approved of Pierluigi. As she did so, Debbie saw her mouth the words “scruffy and smelly?”.

  ‘So, what about introducing us to your friend, Al?’ It was on the tip of Debbie’s tongue to ask whether the man with the black beard behind her friend was Dave the astrophysicist, but she knew Alice too well. It was lucky she did.

  ‘This is Jean-Claude. He’s a teacher from Lyon and he’s over here with a group of kids at a language school – not yours.’ She turned to her companion. ‘Debbie’s one of my oldest, and tallest, friends. She teaches English at one of the other schools in Cambridge.’

  They all shook hands and there was a slightly uncomfortable pause while Debbie tried to make up her mind whether politeness decreed that she invite them to sit down. But Alice was far too streetwise. Debbie saw at once that she had already worked out that two was company and four definitely a crowd in this case. Taking a proprietary grip on Jean-Claude’s forearm, Alice waved with her free hand.

  ‘Well, you young people have fun.’ For a second or two, her eyes met Debbie’s. ‘Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.’

  ‘That gives me a lot of scope, Al. I’ll remember that.’ As the others disappeared into the door of the pub, she gave Pierluigi a two-line précis of her relationship with Alice.

  ‘Alice and I have known each other since I first moved to Cambridge. We lived in the same house for a couple of years before I moved out. She’s a sweetie.’

  ‘She looks very nice. So, why did you move out?’

  Debbie hadn’t wanted to bring Paul into the conversation this evening, or any time soon, but she didn’t have much option. ‘I moved in with my boyfriend. In the same flat you’ve been to.’

  She spotted more than idle curiosity in his eyes as he asked his next question. ‘And your boyfriend, where’s he now?’

  ‘My ex is in the United States. Last time I heard about him, he was in San Francisco.’

  ‘So you broke up?’

  Debbie nodded.

  ‘Long ago?’

  ‘Just over four months ago, at the end of March.’

  ‘I see.’ He didn’t query her any more and she was grateful to him for that. Instead, after a polite pause, he returned the subject to food. ‘So, would you like some dessert?’

  * * *

  They walked home together under the light of the streetlamps. She very nearly took his hand or his arm, but then thought twice about it. After all, she had only met him the previous day and she didn’t want him to think she was out of the same mould as Alice. Besides, what was the point of even considering a new relationship with somebody who would be disappearing to Italy, if not the USA, in a few days’ time? Even so, she couldn’t miss the feeling of attraction growing inside her for this lovely man and she had no hesitation in inviting him in for coffee when they reached her gate. To her disappointment, he declined the offer.

  ‘I’d really like to, Debbie, but I promised a colleague I’d help her with an assignment that has to be handed in tomorrow. Besides, coffee at this time of night might stop me sleeping.’

  She took a closer look at him. Either he was naïve enough to believe that an invitation to coffee just meant an invitation to coffee – and nothing he had said or done so far had given any hint of naivety – or something was holding him back. For a moment, she spared a thought for just who this female “colleague” might be who demanded his presence at almost midnight, but she steered clear of the subject. After all, as she had been telling herself all along, they
had only just met and he was only going to be here for a week or two.

  ‘Well, goodnight, Pierluigi, and thanks for a lovely meal. Next time, I’m paying.’ One thing was for sure. She knew she wanted there to be a next time.

  ‘Absolutely not! But I do hope we can do this again. Could I maybe have your phone number? You’ve already got mine, unless you lost the card.’

  The card was safely tucked into the frame holding the precious postcard beside her bed.

  ‘Of course I’ve still got it.’

  Debbie gave him her number and wondered when she would hear from him again. After tucking the phone back into his pocket, he held out his hand towards her.

  ‘Buona notte, Debbie.’

  ‘Buona notte, Pierluigi.’

  As he took her hand, he pulled her gently towards him and kissed her softly on the cheeks.

  ‘This has been a lovely evening.’

  ‘It certainly has.’

  She stood by the gate and watched him walk back up the street again until he turned the corner onto the main road and she lost sight of him. Only then did she open the gate and go up the path to the front door, stopping to check that her lovely new bike was still safely chained up behind the dustbins.

  Inside her flat, she headed straight for bed, knowing that she had to be up early next morning for work.

  As she lay in bed, her eyelids heavy, her thoughts, as ever, turned once more to her happy place on the hillside above the magical city of Florence. For the first time she sensed a presence on the sun-warmed bench beside her. She couldn’t see who it was, but she felt comforted to know she wasn’t alone. She drifted off to sleep with a smile on her face.

  Chapter 3

  It was three days before she heard from him again. This came in the form of a text message and it simply read, Hi Debbie. Can I see you again? P.

  They had been three surprisingly long days. Debbie had found herself thinking about him a lot and she had come close to calling or texting him herself on a couple of occasions, but had resisted the temptation. All the time she had found herself questioning why he had refused to come in for coffee, or whatever else she might have ended up offering. Who was this female colleague who required his help? Was he holding back because he wasn’t interested, or was there somebody else? Was there maybe a girlfriend back in Italy?

  At the same time, she had also been doing a good bit of self-analysis.

  Four months had now passed since Paul had left, and so far she had remained true to her resolve to steer clear of men. Did this sudden attraction to the handsome Italian mean she was over Paul and ready to move on?

  Inevitably, this was also the question uppermost in Alice’s mind. On the way home from school on the day after their encounter at the Angler’s Rest, Debbie had been pretty sure she could expect a visit from Alice as soon as she got out of work. Consequently, she was totally unsurprised to hear the doorbell ring at six o’clock that evening. The questions started the moment Alice walked in the door.

  ‘Scruffy and smelly, eh? Are you sure, Debs?’

  ‘Well, maybe not smelly.’

  ‘He’s a total hunk, your Pierluigi, and you know it. So why deny it?’

  Debbie took advantage of a few seconds’ thinking time as she filled the kettle and dug out two clean mugs, but, in spite of this, her answer sounded weak even to her.

  ‘I suppose he is quite good-looking really.’

  ‘He’s like something out of a catalogue and you know it. So, does this mean you’ve finally taken my advice and put that slime ball Paul behind you and decided to get on with the rest of your life?’

  Debbie did her best to answer her friend as honestly as possible.

  ‘I really don’t know, Al. You’re right, of course, Pierluigi is very good-looking and he’s also kind, generous and intelligent. I suppose the answer to your question is probably a qualified yes. I think I may be over Paul, or at least getting there.’

  ‘Why qualified?’ Alice’s tone was now less confrontational and more sympathetic.

  ‘I mean this is the first time since Paul that I’ve felt attracted to another man, but I know nothing about him, really. He’s Italian. He’s a doctor. He lives in Florence with his parents and he’s going home in little more than a week’s time. That’s about it.’

  ‘Did you say Florence?’ Alice was one of the few people in whom Debbie had confided about her dreams of Florence. ‘Surely that has to be a sign? The universe is telling you this man’s the one for you, Debs.’ As ever, Alice had come close to reading Debbie’s mind.

  ‘I know, Al, it is a coincidence, but maybe that’s all it is.’

  ‘I’m not so sure, but anyway, what’re you going to do about him? Have you got his phone number? Do you know where he’s staying?’

  ‘Yes, and no. I think he said he was in one of the halls of residence, but I don’t know which.’

  ‘Well, call him and find out.’

  Debbie shook her head.

  ‘To be honest, Al, he’s out of my league. His shirt alone probably cost more than everything I was wearing last night, and I’m pretty sure his watch would be worth more than the entire contents of this flat. He’s from another world. He even knew what the bloody pigs we were eating had been fed on, for crying out loud. He wouldn’t be interested in me.’

  She saw Alice roll her eyes. ‘Do you hear yourself? What are you – little orphan Annie? You’re a grown woman with a good degree, a responsible job, and did I mention your bum? Of course he’s interested in you.’

  Debbie wasn’t so sure. She would wait for him to make the next move.

  So when the text message arrived, she hesitated before replying. There was no denying the fact that she would love to see him again, but she also knew she wanted to take things slowly, even though he would be leaving all too soon. The break-up with Paul had scarred her deeply and she wasn’t about to make the same mistake twice. After a lot of thought, and taking a deep breath, she texted back: Love to. Where and when? D. She resisted the temptation to add a little x before her initial. ‘Take it slow,’ she murmured to herself.

  Seconds later, her phone rang. It was his number. She was in the kitchen at the time, so she sat down at the table as she answered.

  ‘Hi, Pierluigi, how are you?’

  ‘Debbie, hi.’ He sounded very pleased to hear her voice. ‘Today’s Friday. I was thinking about renting a car tomorrow and taking a little tour of the area. Would you feel like joining me?’

  ‘That sounds lovely. The forecast’s good, too.’

  ‘Shall I pick you up at ten?’

  ‘It’s a date.’

  As she put the phone down on the table, she reviewed her terminology. She had called it a date. Was that really what it was?

  * * *

  It was a beautiful day and their tour of the countryside around Cambridge was equally beautiful. There was just one problem. Pierluigi had arrived wearing shorts, and the problem for Debbie was that his long, tanned legs were very, very distracting. Time and again, she found herself having to consciously raise her eyes from his brown knees to the scenery outside. In the course of the day, they visited most of Cambridgeshire as well as quite a bit of Norfolk and Suffolk. Although she had lived in the area for five years, she had rarely ventured outside of Cambridge itself, and she thoroughly enjoyed discovering the surrounding countryside. And of course, she had a wonderful guide.

  They stopped for midmorning coffee at a table outside a sixteenth-century inn by the side of the river Ouse. As they nibbled biscuits and sipped their drinks, they watched the antics of a family of mallard ducks with their tiny, fluffy young, as they threaded their way among the pleasure craft of all shapes and sizes that chugged up and down before them. Lunchtime was spent in Ely, visiting the wonderful cathedral, so incongruously enormous in such a little town. She wondered how it would rate alongside the Duomo in Florence.

  It was after a pub lunch, while they were sitting on a bench in the shade of a massive old oak tree, t
hat they gradually began to find out more about each other. Debbie was the first to pluck up the courage.

  ‘So, Pierluigi, is there a special lady in your life?’

  ‘Apart from my mother, my sister and the person sitting beside me?’

  His tone was gentle. She nodded and waited until he gave his answer.

  ‘No, I’m afraid not.’

  There was something in his voice that made Debbie decide not to pry. However, after a few moments, he elaborated.

  ‘Working shifts in Careggi Hospital doesn’t do a lot for your social life.’ He gave her a little smile. ‘On those nights when I am free, I’m normally too tired to want to go out. But, what about you? You said you’d broken up with your boyfriend some time ago. Surely a beautiful girl like you has got a queue of men at the door.’

  Maybe it was because she knew he would be gone in a matter of days, maybe it was because she felt he was something a bit special, but unusually for her, she decided to go for full disclosure. Even so, she didn’t have the strength to look him in the face. Instead, she stared across at the intricate towers of the cathedral as she told him all about it. Her eyes followed the vertical lines upwards as she explained what had happened.

  ‘I was engaged to be married. His name was – is – Paul. We’d been living together for four years and we were planning to get married next summer. Originally it was going to be this summer – this month in fact.’ She stopped for a moment, composing herself. ‘But Paul insisted on putting it off, and I suppose I should have realised then that something was wrong. Anyway, to cut a long, sad story short, this winter wasn’t much fun and finally, at the end of March, we broke up and he moved out.’ She was relieved to have been able to deliver her speech without her voice betraying her. ‘And since then, I haven’t really felt interested in getting involved with anybody else.’