Kate Fitzroy - Dreams Of Tuscany

‘Are you trying to tell me that Massimo is gay?’ gasped Zoe. ‘He certainly doesn’t seem it!’

‘No, no!’ Serena giggled. ‘Definitely not gay…he’s always with some beautiful girl or other but it never lasts. Mammismo is when an Italian guy just can’t leave his mother’s influence…you say in English, tied to his mother’s apron strings. Massimo has a Mamma that is all the Italian mammas wrapped up in one. I can hardly believe he has managed this move to Siena without her. She rules his life!’

‘Oh right…he’s what we call a mummy’s boy!’ Zoe laughed too. ‘Is that all! Well, it could be worse nothing wrong with a young man respecting his Mamma! I am only going dancing with him and have no intention of competing to rule his life!’

‘You have no idea how bad it can get with these mammini or mummy’s boys. There are divorce cases nowadays where the mother-in-law’s intrusion is cited as a reason for breakdown of the marriage. I count myself lucky that my Paolo’s mother is a librarian and completely absorbed in her work.’

‘Well, anyway, I am not going to marry Massimo so his mother will have no need to worry!’

‘Well, you never know!’ Serena nudged Zoe with her elbow. ‘He is very dishy! Such beautiful eyes!’

‘Mmm!’ agreed Zoe. ‘He does have lovely eyes and good hands!’

‘Oh…you noticed his hands!’ giggled Serena. ‘He has a great body too!’

‘Really, Serena – you should be ashamed of yourself. You’re a respectable married woman!’

‘I know…and I’m quite satisfied with my lot. I’ll leave Massimo to you!’

She laughed as she stood up and left the room. A moment later she popped her head back and added, ‘I’ll leave him all to you…and his Mamma!’

Zoe changed quickly and then walked around the back of the house and towards the pool. She could hear the children’s high-pitched voices shouting with excitement. As she turned the corner she saw Massimo bouncing up and down on the diving board pretending to be too scared to dive in. Serena was right about his body, she thought, as she watched his outline against the clear, blue sky. He was wearing close-fitting dark blue swimming trunks and his dark, tanned skin glowed in the sunshine. As she watched he gave a final bounce and performed a neat somersault dive, entering the turquoise water with hardly a splash. Zoe watched as he swam fast underwater and then burst up through the surface between the children. With more shrieking and wild splashing he let them duck him under again. He surfaced with little Matteo on his shoulders and saw Zoe watching.

‘ Eccola , here is la bella Zoe!’ he called out across the pool. ‘The water is perfect, Zoe, and so are you! Come on!’ He splashed her lightly with a spray of water.

Zoe ran to the end of the pool, along the diving board, bounced lightly and entered the water with a racing dive. Under the cool water she had just one moment to think to herself. ‘I rather like the mummy’s boy!’ before she surfaced and swam over to the children. Matteo, delighted to be on Massimo’s shoulders, waved excitedly to her.

‘See me, Zoe, guardami! ’ He flipped a quick duck dive into the water and popped up beside Zoe, his face alight with laughter and energy, a miniature version of his father. Suddenly he saw his parents approaching the pool arm in arm.

‘Mamma, Mamma! Guardami , look at me, Mamma!’ he called out loudly. Serena sat on the steps of the pool and looked across at Zoe, shrugging her shoulders in mock despair. Zoe burst out laughing and so did Serena.

‘So what is so funny?’ asked Massimo.

Serena wiped tears of laughter from her face as she replied.

‘Come here, my little mammino , my little mummy’s boy!’ She scooped Matteo out of the water and gave him a big hug and then threw him back into the pool. Matteo bobbed up again and splashed his way back to Serena.

‘ Encora , more – throw me in again! Mamma, Mamma!’ Serena did as he asked and then said to Zoe, ‘ Mamma mia! It seems there is no way to get rid of my little mammino mummy’s boy!’ The two women laughed again and the two men remained puzzled.

‘I think is a girl joke thing, Massimo. Or some crazy English idiom?’ Paolo looked at Zoe in amusement and then bombed into the water just beside her, causing the water in the pool to lap over the sides.

Serena threw in a beach ball and then jumped in to join the fun. They began a crazy game of water polo based on no rules at all. Massimo threw the ball to Paolo and Zoe jumped high in the air and intercepted it. She held the ball a moment, looking around her at the happy faces of the children and the handsome, strong Italian faces of the adults. She punched the ball high into the air between them all and laughed as they all lunged and splashed to try to catch it. She felt a surge of grateful happiness – thankful for her good friends and their good intentions and not lonely at all.

At 7.30pm, Zoe was standing in her bedroom hurriedly drying her long hair. She looked into the mirror as she flicked the hair dryer around her head. Her silky hair flew madly into the air and Zoe tried unsuccessfully to tame it with a brush. Her skin had a new layer of tan from the afternoon in the pool and Zoe switched off the dryer and began to liberally apply after-sun cream. The house seemed strangely empty without Fidele padding around. The dog had jumped into the jeep when Zoe started up the engine to leave the Santinis’ home. When Serena had called him back, he had looked at Zoe reproachfully. Zoe sighed – she missed him too. Paolo would take him to the office tomorrow so it wouldn’t be for long. She frowned at herself in the mirror. There it was again, that sad, silly face and here she was getting ready to go out for the evening. Not only that, she only had ten minutes left to get ready. She threw open her wardrobe doors and flipped through the hangers of clothes. Most of her outfits were for work. And what does that tell me, Zoe thought to herself. She knew she really had only one choice. Her silk Versace had to be it.

She had bought the dress for a friend’s wedding a few months ago, and had never worn it since. Now was definitely the time to give it a second airing. She took it carefully from the wardrobe where it hung in a dry cleaner’s plastic cover. Well, that was one useful habit she had learnt from her distant, elegant mother, she thought to herself, as she remembered her mother’s impeccable wardrobe of clothes and immaculately packed suitcases of holiday outfits. She slipped on the ice blue shift and fastened the halter neck with the distinctive diamante and blue crystal Versace Medusa head clasp. She carefully pulled up the long back zip which had a miniature Medusa head at the top and a small crystal bauble. Now for her shoes…there they were, wrapped in the original tissue, nestling side by side in the Miu Miu box. Perhaps I am a mummy’s girl too, she thought as she unwrapped the shoes. She held them in her hand a moment, so light she could hardly feel them. The high heels, widening at the end, and the delicate ankle straps were of the softest silver kid. The simple bar across the front of the foot was lightly embossed with silver snakeskin markings. She slipped them on with pleasure and looked down. No time for nail varnish and anyway she decided that her feet were so tanned that she rather approved of her pale, pearly toenails. Zoe went over to the mirror and critically examined the final effect. She wasn’t a vain girl but when the doorbell rang at precisely 8pm she turned from the mirror with an air of confident self-satisfaction.

The hour’s drive to Florence passed in an easy exchange of conversation. Zoe enjoyed the luxury of the fast car and Massimo drove well. As they approached the outskirts of the city Massimo asked her if she would mind if he just made a phone call. He pressed the number one on his pre-set car phone and Zoe had to look out the side window to hide her amusement as he began to speak.