T Williams - To Rome, with Love

‘Is this your first time in Italy, Terri?’

‘Pretty much. I visited Naples with my mum and dad when I was quite little, but I haven’t been back since. I suppose you must have been here loads of times. I’ve heard you speaking Italian and you sound really good.’ Terri was really quite tiny. Although Sarah wasn’t the tallest girl in the world, she found herself having to look down when talking to Terri, whose hands were like a child’s. Sarah hoped she’d be strong enough to manage the bike ride. She did, however, look very friendly and they were soon chatting together.

‘Are you from the travel trade as well? Most of the others are.’

Terri nodded. ‘Yes, I work for Total Tours in Reading, but I’m originally from Cornwall.’

Just then the waiters appeared with bottles of Prosecco and came round, filling glasses. When everybody had been served, Sarah clinked her knife against her glass and, as a hush descended, took a deep breath, broadened her smile and said a few words. ‘Hi, again, everybody. I’m very pleased to welcome you here, and I’d like to thank you all for being brave enough to join us on this ride for a really worthwhile cause.’

‘Brave or stupid?’ A voice from the end of the table caused a few nervous laughs.

‘Definitely brave. A thousand kilometres is a good ride and, although the next couple of days are going to be fairly flat, it definitely ramps up into the hills after that. But don’t worry; you’ll all be fighting fit by then.’ She was surprised to find that she was managing to smile without too much difficulty. Somehow, returning to her original first love of getting out with groups of tourists was proving beneficial to her mood. ‘Anyway, I won’t spoil your evening by rabbiting on, so just let me tell you the forecast’s good for tomorrow, so it should be warm and dry. Polly will be driving the van with your luggage and, if anybody has a problem, she and Gianluca, our guide, will be on hand to help.’ She raised her glass, doing her best to dismiss the memory of the Italian’s bloodshot eyes from her head. ‘Now, let’s drink a toast to ourselves for raising money for a great cause and trying to make a difference. To us.’

There was a general scramble for wineglasses to hold up, but proceedings were briefly interrupted by a crash and a little cry from the end of the table. All heads turned to see Glynis from Cardiff, her face blushing bright red, desperately trying to stem a tsunami of Prosecco that was running off the table into her lap. She held up her free hand apologetically. ‘Sorry, clumsy me.’ Sarah caught her friend Jo’s eye and read the resigned expression on it. After a few moments somebody refilled Glynis’s glass and they all raised their drinks as Sarah tried the toast for a second time.

‘To us.’

‘To us.’ The voices round the table echoed her words and everybody took a mouthful of what turned out to be excellent Prosecco.

The meal was really good. They started with a seemingly never-ending succession of antipasti, ranging from cold octopus salad to local salami and hams. The waiters put jugs of slightly sparkling Prosecco on the table alongside jugs of local, deep red Merlot. There was mineral water for those who didn’t want alcohol, but Sarah noticed the levels in the water bottles dropped a lot more slowly than the wine in the jugs. As the meal progressed, she chatted to Lars and Terri and as many of the others as she could reach. Once again, she found she enjoyed talking to Lars, who was as tall as Terri was short, and she found herself having to look up in one direction and down in the other until her neck was quite sore. It turned out that Diana from Bristol worked in the IT department along with her girlfriend, Maggie and, considering how attractive she was, turned out to be quite a shy girl. Shy or not, Paul and a few glasses of Prosecco managed to get her talking and laughing before long.

After the antipasti came three different dishes of what the Italians refer to as the primo piatto or first dish, otherwise known as the pasta course. There were two different types of pasta: hefty fat spaghetti, locally called bigoli , with a mushroom sauce, and some that looked like tagliatelle and came with a seafood sauce of vongole , cockles. Alongside the pasta was an excellent risotto, made with peas and ham. As the waiters came past, they encouraged the guests to taste all three and, by the time she had finished, Sarah felt sure she wouldn’t have room for much more. Remarkably, small as she was, Terri tucked into everything and wiped her plate clean.

As she picked up her glass of water to wash it all down, Sarah felt herself being observed, and she glanced across the table. Sure enough, Miles was studying her from his place opposite her with an expression of grim concentration. Sarah toyed with the idea of reminding him to smile, but decided against it. She dropped her eyes and took a mouthful of water, while reflecting that he surely couldn’t have anything to criticise so far. Surely he must be able to see that the tour had started well and the evening was going splendidly. Feeling a bit miffed that he had taken up station so close and appeared determined to keep an eye on what she did, she set her glass down and looked across at him.

‘What do you think of it so far, Miles?’

He was drinking a mouthful of red wine by now and he took his time over formulating a reply. He kept those amazing blue eyes on her all the time and she determined to hold his gaze. She had played this game at school and she knew she was good at it. Finally, he delivered his verdict. ‘So far, so good.’

Well, that’s a step in the right direction, she thought to herself, determined to stir up some real enthusiasm in him before too long. She didn’t blink as she replied. ‘As you say. Let’s hope it carries on without a hitch.’

‘If all the meals are as good as this, I’m going to put on weight, rather than lose it. Brilliant find, Sarah.’ Paul had been following the conversation and there was no need to stir up enthusiasm in him. Sarah watched him out of the corner of her eye, still refusing to look away from Miles. ‘This place is amazing. Very well done.’ Beside him, Diana from Bristol voiced her agreement and Sarah heard Terri echoing the sentiment. Then, mercifully, Miles relinquished his gaze and turned towards his brother.

‘And we’re only halfway through the meal. I think you’re right about putting on weight, Paul. You’d do well to work it off.’ There was an edge to his voice as he stressed the word, work , and Sarah couldn’t miss the spark of annoyance that appeared on Paul’s face for a split second. No sooner had it appeared than it disappeared, however, replaced by Paul’s usual sophisticated smile.

‘I can work when I need to, Miles.’ He kept his voice low, but Sarah still caught what he said. Luckily his other close neighbours appeared to have been involved in their own conversations and hadn’t noticed.

‘Is that so?’

Miles glanced across at Sarah to see if she had heard, but she hastily looked away and concentrated on wiping some remaining sauce from her plate with a piece of bread. Transferring her eyes to her wineglass she took a big mouthful, intrigued and concerned by the exchange between the two brothers. Clearly, there was something going on there and she determined to keep an eye on events. As for the trip, she knew she was bloody good at her job and, even though Miles hadn’t shown any great enthusiasm, she knew things were going well and there was no reason that should change. As the thought passed through her head, the weather-beaten face of the ex-professional cyclist appeared once more and she groaned inwardly, crossing her fingers on her free hand and repeating her prayer. At that moment the waiters appeared to clear the plates, only to return immediately with fresh plates and the main course. Sarah found herself smiling as she saw the expressions on some of the faces round the table who had thought the meal had finished with the pasta. As slices of roast beef in a thick wine-based sauce appeared, along with piping hot polenta cut into layers and filled with melted cheese, she began to cheer up again. Stuff Miles and his critical eye. She knew what she was doing and, whatever her screwed up personal life was doing to her emotions, she knew she was going to turn herself inside out to make sure that everybody, and that included Miles himself, had a whale of a time over the next two weeks.