The past pulled at her like a string attached to her soul that she could never snip.
‘Beyond the fact it’s meant to be one of the most beautiful places on earth?’
‘Yes.’
She smothered a smile, knowing he wouldn’t let it go now he’d decided he was interested.
‘For a year, we lived in Massachusetts. Mom got a job working in a call centre for a phone company and she had a friend with a spare room so we packed up and moved.’ The description neatly glossed over how hard that time had been in Alice’s life. She’d been twelve, and had started to put down roots, to make tentative, hesitant friendships that she’d bitterly resented having to leave.
‘It was cold and dark and I hated it,’ Alice said with a wry smile. ‘To be fair to Massachusetts, I was a miserable pre-teen determined to hate the world and everyone in it. I’m pretty sure my perception was altered by that veil.’
‘You were a miserable pre-teen?’ he said with obvious disbelief.
Alice nodded sagely. ‘Oh, yes. I was an excellent adolescent.’ She shook her head then reached for his hand, lacing her fingers through it distractedly—and as though it were the most natural thing in the world.
‘We had a neighbour, Signora Verde. She used to see me come home from school and I guess she worried about me—Mom worked late and the friend of hers we were living with was a nurse who had shifts all sorts of hours. I was home alone a lot. Signora Verde would bring me plates of biscotti and hazelnut bomboloni fresh from the stove. She’d sit with me a while, and tell me about her town in Tuscany—Trefiumi Nord.’
Alice shook her head wistfully, remembering Signora Verde so clearly. ‘The way she described it...a hue of autumn colours all year round, walls that were golden and ochre with red-tiled roofs, buildings that nestled close together along streets that were ancient, lined with little uneven stones, roads that curved gently uphill, perfect for little Vespas to scoot along, window boxes overflowing with fragrant flowers—their pops of colour in the summer enough to take your breath away. The sound of old women sitting on plastic seats by their front doors, talking about their grandchildren as though each was a maestro in the making. The smell of garlic thick in the air, the noise of children running, clutching gelato in their sun-bronzed hands.’ Alice’s stomach clenched with the same sense of longing she’d felt then.
‘Signor Verde got transferred to North Dakota about six months after we moved to Massachusetts. I never saw her again. But the memories of Italy formed a part of me, and, no matter how hard things got, no matter how hungry I felt, I always remembered three things because of Signora Verde.’
‘And these things are?’
Alice smiled, with no idea of how the morning light caught in her eyes and turned them to pools of liquid gold—nor the effect this had on her husband. ‘That Italy is heaven on earth,’ she said with a wink. ‘That kindness—when you expect nothing in return—is the most important gift you can give anyone.’ The words were whispered because, truly, Signora Verde had come into Alice’s life at a time when her heart had been heavy and she had been so full of angst and sadness, a displaced, angry teenager.
‘And the third?’ His question was heavy with feeling.
‘The taste of freshly cooked bomboloni on a frigid winter’s afternoon.’ She smiled up at him, and her tummy rumbled on cue.
Thanos laughed. ‘I can see Greece has a lot to live up to.’
‘It does.’ She looked towards the window, the ocean glistening in the distant background.
Thanos’s smile was distracted and he was quiet for a moment. ‘Would you like to go to Italy today, Alice?’
She laughed, shaking her head. ‘You can’t be serious?’
‘Why not? Italy is only a two-hour flight. We could go for lunch.’
Alice laughed at the very idea. ‘And then what? Paris for dinner?’
‘If you’d like.’ He shrugged, but Alice’s heart turned over in her chest at the image he was painting. It was all too much. Even with all the evidence to the contrary, she found it almost impossible to believe this was her life—albeit temporarily.
‘Thanos.’ She laughed again, pushing up so she could see him more clearly. ‘You can’t just suggest we get on your private jet and fly to Italy for lunch!’
‘Why not?’
‘Because it’s... I mean...it’s just so...’
‘Yes?’
What? So exactly what she wanted? So completely as if her dreams were coming true?
‘So perfect,’ she said seriously now, her eyes filling unexpectedly with moisture. ‘Thank you. I’d like that. A lot.’
His smile released a thousand butterflies in her tummy.
‘So, Alice? Which would you prefer? Venice, Rome, or Florence?’