Dreaming of Rome Read online

  She shook her head. ‘There’s absolutely no need to get the car back out of the garage again, thanks. I saw a taxi rank as we came into the square. I’ll hop into one and I’ll be home in no time. My hotel’s just off Piazza Barberini, so it’s not far.’ He looked as if he was going to protest, but she stood up and waved to him to remain seated. ‘Really. You stay and finish your beer. Besides, Daisy looks as if she’s worn out. By the way, I’ve been meaning to ask; how come you’ve got a dog with an English name?’

  He smiled. ‘In honour of my old landlady in Oxford. She was a faithful friend as well.’

  He stood up. As he did so, the Labrador sprang up, tail wagging. ‘Don’t be fooled by Daisy. She has boundless energy. No, I’m afraid I have to insist upon walking you to your taxi, if not your hotel. Mario told me to look after you and a promise is a promise. Your sister would murder me if I let anything happen to you.’

  He motioned to the waitress who came across remarkably quickly. He pressed a bank note into her hand, smiled, and told her to keep the change. The girl blushed and smiled back, and Jo felt pretty sure it was less for the unexpected tip than for the contact with his hand. Together, they walked back up the square, the dog trotting happily alongside them, and Jo enjoyed the exercise after a day spent mainly sitting down. As they reached the big fountain, he glanced across at her and made a suggestion.

  ‘Your hotel’s in Piazza Barberini. That’s only twenty minutes or so on foot. My four-legged friend here needs some exercise, so if you feel like walking, I’d be happy to accompany you. It’s a lovely night.’

  He was right; it was a delightful evening. Dusk was falling now and lights were coming on all round the square. Street traders were peddling strange fluorescent disks like little flying saucers that went spinning into the sky around them, and the fountain illuminations behind them suddenly flickered to life, bathing the sparkling waters with light. A band of Peruvian musicians in traditional dress were just setting up and Jo had no doubt the piazza would become an enchanting place as the evening progressed. For a moment she hesitated, tempted to tell him she would, after all, like to stay on and take him up on his invitation to dinner, but then good sense kicked in. If she only got a few hours’ sleep tonight she would be shattered all week. Still, she thought to herself, a short walk through the streets of Rome was not to be missed, even though heels and cobbles didn’t go too well together. She rarely wore heels, but had decided to dress up for the engagement party and she wasn’t that steady on her feet on the uneven stones.

  ‘That’s a great idea, Corrado. I’d like that. This is my first trip to Rome and all I’ve seen so far has been from the inside of a car.’

  He stopped for a moment and Jo did the same. At their feet, the dog hesitated, waiting to see which way Corrado would choose. After a few seconds reflection, he came to a decision.

  ‘It’s a pity you haven’t got longer or we could go past the Colosseum, but it’s too far out of the way for this time. We’ll go via the Pantheon, though, and then, if you can spare ten minutes more, I’ll show you the Trevi Fountain. At least you’ll see a couple of the important landmarks and they’re both pretty much right on the way back to your hotel.’

  ‘Wonderful, thank you.’

  He led her across to the east side of the piazza and into a narrow lane. Austere palazzi, centuries old, rose up on either side of them, massive iron gratings covering their lower windows. The buildings were all shades of pink, orange and ochre, faded by exposure to the sun. The crowds showed no signs of abating and their progress was slow, but Jo didn’t mind in the slightest. She savoured the atmosphere of the place and knew that she would have to come back to Rome some day soon and dedicate some serious time to seeing the sights.

  Within a very few minutes they emerged from the narrow lane into another piazza and she found herself confronted by the massive façade of the Pantheon. In the midst of the square there was another big marble fountain with, alongside it, a bored-looking horse standing between the shafts of a carriage, while its driver sat and relaxed with a cigarette, nearing the end of a long, hot day. Street lights on the buildings around the piazza and floodlights on the Pantheon illuminated the scene. The square was full of tourists, most just wearing shorts and T-shirts, even though the sun had dropped below the horizon and the swallows in the clear night sky had been replaced by bats. A digital thermometer outside a shop indicated it was still almost thirty degrees and Jo was glad she had chosen her lightest summer dress for today, but even so, she was hot. As she stopped and looked around, she heard the dog panting at her feet. Underneath that sleek black fur coat, it must be pretty uncomfortable to be a Labrador in Rome.

  She stood and gazed in awe at the building before her. It was sobering to realise that this imposing structure with its row of titanic columns had been erected centuries ago and it was still standing today. Corrado’s brain must have been working along similar lines.

  ‘If I remember right, what you see there was finished in the second century, but it was built on top of an even older Roman temple. Just think, when this was built, Rome was in its heyday and ruler of most of the known world.’ He turned towards her and smiled. ‘I wonder what the ancient emperors would have made of today’s government. Italy isn’t exactly the ruler of anything any more.’

  Jo was surprised, and pleased, to hear him speaking more freely and enthusiastically. Presumably history was one of his interests and it provided a ready subject for them to talk about and, as they continued their walk, she realised that he knew a lot about the illustrious history of his city.

  Together, they made their way round the huge building and he pointed out the traditional small Roman bricks that had been used to build the bulk of the structure. Many of them were pockmarked with holes, but whether these were the work of the weather, animals, or the result of small-arms fire, was something neither of them could tell. As they reached the rear of the building and curled round to the left, the dog suddenly stopped in front of Jo, unsure of which direction to take. She almost tripped over the black shadow at her feet and might have fallen but for a strong hand on her arm, as Corrado caught her and steadied her. She bumped against his chest, straightened up, and found herself looking straight into his eyes sparkling in the reflection of the street lights.

  ‘You okay, Jo? Sorry about Daisy. She has a habit of stopping a bit suddenly.’

  His face was only a few inches above hers and the lights only served to emphasise the sculpted contours of it. As she collected herself and stepped back, she was reminded yet again that she was in the company of a very good-looking man. And she knew what that meant. She immediately took a second step back and gave him a grateful smile.

  ‘Sorry about that, Corrado. Heels aren’t ideal for this sort of road surface. Thanks for catching me before I ended up head first on the cobbles.’

  ‘You can hang onto my arm while we walk if you like.’ From his tone, he was just being helpful, but she shook her head all the same.

  ‘I’m fine, thanks. I just need to be a bit more careful.’

  After making a tour all the way round the massive circular structure, Corrado led her off to the right, along yet another narrow lane. As they walked, Jo was unsurprised to see gift shops still open at that time of night, along with cafes and restaurants doing a roaring trade, many with tables out on the street, crowded with people. All around them was the background hubbub of people talking and laughing. There was no doubt that tourism was big business in Rome.

  They weaved their way through the streets until they emerged into the surprisingly small piazza where the Trevi Fountain stood. This too was illuminated and the whole area was buzzing with tourists. Jo felt his hand catch hold of her arm as he steered her through the crowds until they managed to reach the low railings surrounding the fountain. She could feel people pushing from behind and she was glad of his supporting hand. As she stood and took in the scene, she heard his voice at her ear.

  ‘Keep a tight hold of your handb
ag, Jo.’

  She nodded and gripped her bag even tighter, although she was already holding it tight to her chest with both hands. Her main concern at this point, however, was that the momentary touch of his lips against her ear had been far more stimulating than it should have been. If she hadn’t been surrounded by a mass of humanity, she would have moved out of his grip – just to be on the safe side.

  ‘Daisy, no!’

  Jo looked down as he shouted. The dog had behaved impeccably all evening, trotting along with them without a lead, but it was clear that her Labrador DNA was now propelling her inexorably towards the water. Jo felt Corrado jerk forward and saw him make a grab for Daisy’s collar. He hauled her back and told her to sit. As she obeyed, his tone softened.

  ‘Sorry, Daisy, but you’re not allowed into the fountains. I know you’re hot – I wouldn’t mind jumping in myself – but it’s forbidden. Okay? See the police car over there? You’d be arrested.’

  Daisy looked up at her master and it looked for a moment as if she nodded. As for Jo, her subconscious suddenly presented her with an image of Corrado stripped to a pair of swimming trunks, plunging into the pool. Not for the first time this evening, she growled at herself and did her best to concentrate on the sight before her.

  The fountain consisted of a natural rock base with what Corrado told her were Titans emerging from the rocks in all their rippling muscular grandeur. Along with them were horses and what might have been Pan with his pipes. Positioned above them all, Oceanus, the Titan god of the sea, looked on majestically, flanked by two beautiful goddesses. The floodlit water was a perfect translucent light blue and, beneath the surface, the bottom of the fountain was covered in coins. The significance of this was soon explained.

  ‘Here, take this.’ She felt Corrado pressing a coin into her hand. ‘If you’re serious about wanting to come back to Rome, you know what you have to do.’

  Jo didn’t hesitate. She reached out and threw the Euro into the water, watching it sink to the bottom. Beside her, she saw Daisy make a lunge to follow it, but Corrado had anticipated her move and was hanging on to her collar tightly. He looked up at Jo.

  ‘So, did you make a wish?’

  ‘I certainly did.’

  ‘So, you think you’ll be back again before too long?’

  ‘Just try and stop me.’

  Chapter 2

  ‘Bloody hell, Jo, who’s that?’

  Jo smiled to herself at the disbelief, and more than just a touch of envy, in Victoria’s voice as she looked at the photo.

  ‘That’s Corrado, my future brother-in-law. But don’t get any ideas. I’m not planning to get involved with a future relative. Life’s complicated enough without that.’

  Victoria swiped the photo with her fingers to enlarge it. What she saw clearly reinforced her first impression.

  ‘Blimey, Jo, what a hunk! He’s even more stunning than Christian, and that’s saying something.’

  ‘Well, you’re not the only one to think that. Half the women in Rome were giving him the eye as we were sitting in Piazza Navona.’

  ‘Ah, Piazza Navona… I’ve seen the pictures. I really must get round to organising that trip to Rome we’ve been dreaming of for so long now.’

  Victoria and Jo had known each other since school and had few secrets from each other. Both had started their Italian evening class three years ago and had taken a trip to Venice together the previous year. Next on their agenda were Florence or Rome, or both.

  ‘Well, if all goes well and Angie marries Mario next spring, she’s already said we’re welcome to come and stay in their guest bedroom.’

  ‘Fantastic, I can’t wait. But, returning to Mr Fabulous for a moment, did you and he…?’

  Jo shook her head vigorously and subjected her friend to a disapproving look.

  ‘We most certainly did not.’

  ‘But he’s so amazingly handsome, Jo. And, besides, there’s nothing to stop you and your brother-in-law from hooking up. It’s not illegal or immoral or anything.’

  ‘It may not be illegal, Vic, but that’s never going to happen. Like I said, he’s going to be my brother-in-law and if I did get involved with him and it didn’t work out it could affect my sister.’

  ‘But that’s not the only reason, is it?’ Victoria didn’t give Jo a chance to respond. ‘It’s also because he’s so good-looking.’ Victoria’s tone was heavy with irony now. She knew Jo so very well.

  ‘You’re probably right. I’ve had it up to here with handsome men. I should have listened to my grandma. She told me never to go out with good-looking men, to choose one barely a few shades better-looking than the devil incarnate. The uglier the better. Handsome men are too high risk.’

  ‘Did she tell you that before or after you shacked up with Christian?’

  Jo shook her head ruefully. ‘Before. I thought she was talking rubbish. I should’ve listened to her. I know now that she was right.’

  ‘So you’re on the lookout for an ugly man?’ Victoria’s tone was now decidedly cynical.

  ‘I’m not on the lookout for any man, Vic. I’m fine as I am.’

  Victoria snorted. ‘Don’t be ridiculous. Surely you want to fall in love.’

  ‘Been there, done that, didn’t buy the T-shirt. I have no intention of falling in love with anybody, thank you. Love’s an illusion.’ Jo stopped and corrected herself. ‘Love’s a delusion. You think what you’re feeling is love, when in fact it’s just hormones or lust or God knows what. I’ve been fooled once. I won’t be fooled again.’

  Victoria caught her eye and subjected her to her schoolmarm stare. ‘Just because it didn’t work out between you and Christian doesn’t mean it won’t work with somebody else.’

  Jo shook her head. ‘You’re wrong, you know, Vic. I thought… no, I was certain, that Christian and I were in love and that it would last forever. I managed to convince myself of that and look where it got me. I was wrong, and I’m not going to make that mistake again. Love’s just an invention of novelists and playwrights, a temporary clouding of the senses that makes you believe the most ridiculous things.’

  ‘So you got burned, Jo, that doesn’t mean it won’t work out better next time.’

  ‘There isn’t going to be a next time, Vic. Trust me, I know what I’m doing.’

  Victoria swallowed the last of the Prosecco in her glass and stood up. ‘I trust you, Jo, but I reckon you’re wrong. Same again?’ Before Jo had a chance to answer, Victoria had disappeared into the crowd.

  What Jo hadn’t told her best friend was that, since returning to London, the good news was that she had been thinking less of Christian. However, the annoying bad news was that she now found herself thinking far too much about her handsome future brother-in-law. This was so patently contrary to everything she had worked out for her own sake since Christian’s departure that it made no sense. The man was gorgeous. Her granny would have been appalled.

  ‘Here, Jo. And I got a bag of crisps to soak up the alcohol.’

  Jo took her glass and sipped it, pretty sure that Victoria was going to resume the attack. She wasn’t mistaken.

  ‘So, any ugly men on the horizon?’

  Jo gave her a grin. ‘No men at all, Vic.’ She glanced at her watch; the lecture at the Natural History Museum was starting in less than half an hour. ‘What’re you doing this weekend? Feel like coming out to Woodstock with me? I’m going to see mum and dad. We could go riding.’

  Victoria grimaced and shuddered.

  ‘That’s very kind, but no thanks. Horses are big, they’ve got teeth, they stink and they crap all over the place. I can’t imagine why you think they’re so wonderful. It’s all right for you: you’ve ridden since you were a toddler and you’ve got a sister who’s an Olympic show jumper. Me, I’m more of a cat person – and you don’t need to ride them.’

  ‘Give me a horse, or a dog, any day.’ Jo smiled. ‘Or a butterfly.’

  ‘You and your butterflies. You’re just a glorified train-spott
er. You go round with your notebook and pencil, ticking the different ones off on your list and loving it, don’t you? And you don’t even collect them either.’

  Jo was about to launch into her familiar critique of butterfly collectors when she remembered her most recent rant on that subject. Annoyingly that reminded her, yet again, of Corrado. Doing her best to dismiss the image, she just shook her head.

  ‘Anyway, I really must go. There’s a lecture on the endangered butterflies of Europe tonight and I don’t want to miss it. Do you want to come along as well? You might find it interesting.’

  Victoria grinned.

  ‘I’d need an awful lot more Prosecco before that could happen. No, you go and enjoy yourself. I’ve got a pile of ironing to do back at home and I know for a fact that’ll be far more interesting that your helicoptera.’

  ‘Lepidoptera, Vic.’ Jo grinned and swallowed the last of her wine as she stood up. ‘Enjoy the ironing. You don’t know what you’re missing.’

  Her friend grinned back. ‘Actually, Jo, I do, I really do.’ She stood up as well, a more serious expression on her face. ‘And I might just start looking at flights and hotels in readiness for a trip to Rome this summer. Might you be up for that?’

  Jo nodded. The idea of returning to Rome appealed very much, but irritatingly it wasn’t the image of the Pantheon that came to mind, but of Corrado.

  * * *

  A couple of days later, Jo got a call from her boss at nine o’clock at night. He had a habit of doing this and it was getting on her nerves. He was one of those people who got up late, came to work at ten and woke up some time around lunch. By mid to late afternoon he was firing on all cylinders and he appeared to have no consideration for the fact that his staff might have lives outside of work. Since Christian’s departure, of course, Jo didn’t have a lot going on, but it was annoying all the same.

  ‘Ronald, hi, what can I do for you?’ She folded the corner of the page to mark the spot in the book she was reading, and sat back, expecting a lengthy conversation – or, as was more usual, a monologue.