T Williams - To Rome, with Love

Glynis nodded miserably. ‘I must have dropped it in there by accident. I don’t know what I’d have done without you, Jo.’ She gave Sarah an apologetic look. ‘I’m so sorry. I hope I haven’t kept you waiting too long.’

Sarah gave her a grin, determined to reassure her and calm her down. ‘Not at all. I’m just glad you found it.’ She smiled at all three of them. ‘Well, you’ve arrived now. If you’d like to come with me, there’s a bus outside to ferry you to the hotel.’

As they made their way out of the terminal building, Jo, the girl who had saved the day, fell in alongside Sarah and whispered to her. ‘Glynis is a sweetie, but I’m afraid she can be a bit scatty at times. Naomi and I’ll do our best to keep an eye on her.’ She was an attractive girl and, by the sound of it, a bright one. Somehow, Sarah had a feeling Paul was going to like her a lot. Surreptitiously, she crossed her fingers, hoping he would behave himself. Anyway, she told herself, everybody had turned up and she could breathe a sigh of relief. So far, so good. As long as she didn’t think too hard about Gianluca.

***

Dinner was set for half past eight in a restaurant a few kilometres inland of the airport and the hotel. They had booked a coach to ferry everybody there and Sarah breathed a sigh of relief when everybody was safely on board. As they started off on the fifteen minute journey, she walked down through the bus, chatting to everybody and checking they were all satisfied with their accommodation. Everybody seemed happy and those who had taken the water bus into Venice were singing the praises of that wonderful city. Paul and Miles were sitting halfway down the bus and Paul was chatting volubly with the trio of girls from Cardiff, his eyes very much on Jo. Miles was sitting on his own, engrossed in a call on his phone. Sarah remembered his reputation for being a workaholic and hoped this wouldn’t be how he spent all his free time. Mind you, she thought to herself, she had been branded a workaholic herself so many times, she felt a sense of sympathy for him. At least, she thought to herself, it would be hard for him to carry on a telephone conversation while riding a bike.

After returning to her seat, satisfied that all was going well so far, she was reminded that one of the people who had accused her of working too hard had been James. Had her appetite for her job contributed to his decision not to go ahead with the wedding? In the wake of the impact of his decision, she had been conducting a post-mortem in her head, asking herself just why he had made up his mind to dump her and whether it really was the disaster she had initially thought. Certainly, he would have objected to her participation in this trip, even though she had found herself faced with little or no choice in the matter. She had always known he had a very selfish, controlling side to his character and it was only just occurring to her now that his insistence they get married might have been in order to further cement his hold over her. Maybe, tough as it was, his decision had been the right one, after all. She found herself feeling very confused. She shook her head miserably and sighed as the coach drove across the dead flat countryside, criss-crossed by little waterways, through which they would be riding the following day. The thought of two weeks on a bike should have cheered her, but she knew she was still bleeding internally and it would take a lot to cheer her up.

‘Can I join you, Sarah?’

Miles’s voice dragged her out of her introspection. ‘Of course. All well?’

She was referring to his telephone conversation, which had been going on for a good ten or fifteen minutes, but he chose to interpret her query as referring to the trip. ‘You tell me – you’re in charge, after all. Now, what do you want me to do tonight?’

He was sitting close beside her and she could feel the hairs of his bare forearm resting against her arm. It was a not unpleasant sensation and, yet again, she had to remind herself that the very last thing she wanted right now was any kind of involvement with another man. She eased her arm away from him and replied.

‘I want you to turn on the charm, Miles. Plonk yourself at table and dazzle everybody with your bonhomie and friendliness. Line one, page one of the tour guides’ manual: “Keep a smile on your face at all times and this will ensure a smile on the faces of the clients.” So, big smiles all round, all right?’ She shot him a quick glance to see how he was reacting and was relieved to see a smile forming on his lips.

‘Of course, you’re right.’ He met her eyes for a few seconds and she read something more serious that belied his words. ‘Do me a favour, Sarah; remind me of that from time to time. I know I should smile more.’

‘Normally, all that’s needed is to be happy and the smile comes automatically. Are you happy, Miles?’ She looked over at his face again, but his eyes were now trained down at his hands.

‘I’ll work on that, too, Sarah.’ His voice now sounded bleak and she felt a surge of compassion. Clearly, things weren’t all right and she wondered if the cause was work, the conflict with his brother, or something more personal. Then he looked up, out of the window. ‘Unless I’m very much mistaken, we’re here.’ He turned back towards her, his smile firmly in place. ‘See, Sarah, I’m smiling.’

It almost looked convincing.

The restaurant was called La Stalla and had pretty evidently been converted from an old stable block. Just in case anybody failed to get the connection, there were saddles and sundry horsey paraphernalia all around the walls to make the point. The walls were exposed stone and brick, the high ceilings supported by hefty wooden beams, and the floors were ancient, worn terracotta tiles. It was a charming place and she sensed the approval of the guests as they walked inside. They were escorted to a private room at one end of the building where a long table had been set up for all thirty of them. Sarah, as mistress of ceremonies, sat right in the middle on one side and the others helped themselves to seats around her. As everybody settled down she noticed that Miles had taken up position right opposite her and she wondered whether this was a deliberate move to keep an eye on her, presumably so as to assess her performance at firsthand. For a moment, Sarah remembered what Melissa had said about possible redundancies and she suppressed a shiver. She loved her job and really didn’t want to lose it.

‘What a fabulous place.’ Lars the Swede had taken his place at her right hand and was looking around admiringly. On the other side of her, Sarah had made sure to put one of the two women who had come on their own, as she was determined to see they were made welcome by the others in the group as soon as possible. She turned towards Lars and nodded.

‘And the food’s supposed to be even better.’ She glanced across the table at Miles and was relieved to see him looking, by his standards, relatively relaxed, a reasonably convincing smile still on his face, chatting to the very pretty girl who had arrived with the others on the flight from London. Sarah had now identified her as Diana from a big tour operator based in Bristol. Ominously, Paul, looking very smart in a sky-blue polo shirt, had taken up position on the other side of her and was clearly waiting until his brother tired so that he could leap in and start a conversation with her. As Sarah was watching Paul, he suddenly looked up and his eyes caught hers. He gave her a big smile and a wink.

‘All well, Sarah?’

‘I’ll tell you at the end of the meal.’

‘It’s going to be good. I can feel it.’

Sarah was reminded of numerous other group dinners back in the days when she had still been accompanying groups of tourists. She knew full well that first impressions count and so she really hoped tonight’s food would be suitably impressive. ‘I’ll keep my fingers crossed, Paul.’ She turned her attention to the girl beside her.