T Williams - To Rome, with Love

When the waitress came along, Paul ordered the same as Sarah and then sat back. ‘So, you’ll have to tell me how I can help out. It’s pretty clear you’ve got it all under control, but I’m here and I’d like to make myself useful.’ He glanced over his shoulder. ‘In spite of what my brother says, I do know how to work.’

Sarah decided not to follow up on that particular topic, choosing to let the brothers sort out their own differences. ‘Thanks, Paul. There’s nothing very specific, really. Just keep an eye on the group, encourage anybody who looks to be having trouble, try to get everybody talking and any lone wolves integrated into the pack.’ She gave him a smile. ‘Just turn on the charm.’ She hesitated, before adopting a more serious expression. ‘But not too much charm, all right?’

‘Yes, boss, leave it to me.’ He was still smiling and Sarah realised she rather liked him. He had definitely matured over the past couple of years and, although she was still quite sure she wasn’t interested in getting involved with another man under any circumstances, she was enjoying his company. However, his next remark made her realise that this particular leopard hadn’t totally changed its spots. He looked round at the rest of the group. ‘So, who’s going to be bonking who, then?’

‘Who’s going to be doing what?’

He grinned across the table at her. ‘Which of our companions are going to take advantage of this break from home, work and family to indulge in a bit of howsyourfather? You know, the chance to enjoy themselves with other people, have other experiences.’ As he spoke, the image of James’s letter appeared in Sarah’s head, every word indelibly burnt into her memory. Paul’s choice of language was almost exactly the same. She felt a strong sense of indignation growing, but Paul hadn’t finished. He leant across the table towards her and dropped his voice. ‘My money’s on our French friends.’ He nodded across to the table where the couple from a big Parisian tour operator were sitting. Jean-Pierre was a charming man in his early fifties, while slim, dark Véronique had to be a good ten, maybe fifteen, years younger. She had told Sarah they worked together, and it was pretty clear they were close friends, but that didn’t make them lovers. Besides, Sarah told herself, so what if they were? Paul looked back across the table and winked. ‘Fancy a bet. Shall we say a tenner?’

‘What they do in their private life is up to them, Paul.’ Sarah took a deep, calming breath before continuing. ‘And there’s nothing funny about infidelity. I wouldn’t dream of betting on something like that.’

‘All right, all right, the bet’s off, but I still reckon they’re not just here for the cycling.’ The arrival of the waitress with their drinks interrupted him and gave Sarah a bit more time to regain her composure. She picked up her glass and drank deeply, letting a couple of ice cubes slowly melt in her mouth. This further settled her and she was able to reply in quite normal tones.

‘Like I say, their private life’s their own. As long as they don’t cause trouble or hold the group back, it’s up to them how they spend their time.’ She now decided it was better to change the subject. ‘So, how do you think our guide’s working out?’

‘Gianluca? He’s great. He’s been telling us a few of his tales about riding on the professional circuit. They have to be phenomenally fit. To guys like him, a short training ride is a hundred miles.’

Sarah had done a few hundred-mile rides in her time and she knew she would never be able to consider any of them short . ‘And the other members of the group? Any potential troublemakers? Anybody been grumbling about anything?’

‘Nope, they all sound happy. Touch wood, I think this looks set to become another Hall’s Tours success. Well done, you.’

Sarah soaked up the compliment and hoped Paul would say something of the sort to his big brother to help convince him she really was good at her job. She glanced to her left and spotted Miles walking slowly up and down the waterside, his phone glued to his ear. She shook her head sadly. Some things never changed.

***

They arrived at their destination at four-thirty. It had been a long, hot day, although everybody had been enchanted by the views. Their hotel, a large, modern construction, was right by the beach at Chioggia, the town that marked the southernmost limit of the Venetian lagoon. From tomorrow, they would be moving inland. They dumped their bikes in the underground garage and went up into the lovely, air-conditioned interior of the hotel. Once she had supervised the allocation of the rooms, Sarah, like most of the others, went upstairs, slipped into her bikini, grabbed a towel and headed for the beach across the road.

First, she had to fight her way through a massive funfair under construction, complete with roundabouts, bouncy castles and what might have been a fortune teller’s stall. She saw a heavily tattooed man juggling brightly coloured clubs while a pretty, dark-haired girl sat on a bench combing what looked like a clown’s unruly wig. Occasional bursts of cacophonous music told her they were testing the sound system, which looked as though it was all still being set up and wasn’t fully functioning. As her bedroom looked out directly across the road to the funfair, she was thankful for that. She really didn’t want to be kept awake until the small hours by hurdy-gurdy music.

In common with most of the hotels strung out along the coast road, theirs had its own piece of private beach beyond the fairground, fenced off and meticulously raked, furnished with stripy sun beds. There were changing rooms along with showers, and even a bar serving drinks. Sarah dumped her towel on a sunbed and slipped out of her shorts and T-shirt, heading for the sea. The sand was hot under her feet and she ended up running the last few metres to the shallows. She found American Mike and his companion, Dan, standing in the water up to their thighs. She splashed up to them.

‘Hi, guys, had a good day?’

Mike was quick to reply. ‘Great. We were just saying what a great ride it’s been. Fabulous views, easy riding and wonderful weather.’

‘Couldn’t have been better.’ Dan sounded equally enthusiastic. ‘A lot of organisation for you, though. How did you manage to rent that boat?’

‘It was surprisingly easy. Boats are to Venice what coaches are to the rest of the world. A few phone calls and that was it.’ She glanced around. ‘Where’s your boss?’ Her initial assumption that Chuck was calling the shots had been confirmed that morning in conversation. Mike grinned.

‘He’s feeling a bit sore and he didn’t think the salt water would be too comfortable on the raw areas.’

‘Saddle sores already? That’s tough.’ Sarah was surprised. ‘Has he got some cream?’

‘Yeh, loads of it. Apparently it always happens to him.’

‘Poor guy.’ Sarah bent her knees and dropped down until the water covered her shoulders, before straightening up again, loving the cool sensation as the water ran over her skin. In spite of the hot sun, the temperature of the water wasn’t very high, presumably as they were just at the start of the warm season, but it was just what she needed after a day in the saddle. She decided to head on out a bit.

‘I’m going for a swim. See you later.’ She spotted a raft a little way out, with a figure sitting on it, and headed for it, using a slow, gentle breaststroke. The seabed sloped very gradually and she found that her feet could still touch the bottom even after almost a hundred metres. This reminded her of the last holiday she had had with James, in Cancun at the end of the previous year. If everything had gone to plan, she should have been back there with him now, on her honeymoon. She gave a sigh and ducked her face into the water to clear her head before rolling over onto her back, staring up at the pale blue sky. This, she told herself, had been a great day, just like old times. And, she reminded herself, old times meant the days before she had finally given in to James’s constant moaning and had transferred to an office job. She had been on some amazing trips and had made lasting friendships with people from all over the world. Now James had removed himself from her life, she found herself free to pursue her chosen career once more. Somehow, this thought cheered her a lot. Maybe James’s cowardly little letter really had done her a favour.