Summer’s Song Italian serial

Final Part: Kay has some awkward questions for her hard-working musician lover Paolo…

She had harboured a FANTASY of him GATHERING HER in his arms

It was July when Kay returned to Montelibertà. Summer had come to the Italian town and the streets were alive with tourists, many more than when Kay had last visited, four months ago.

The sun blazed on busy pavement cafés, street musicians played and as many English and American voices filled the air as Italian. Purple spikes of lavender were everywhere, and it made Kay think of Paolo and the lavender oil she’d so often sprinkled on her pillow.

Paolo! She didn’t need lavender to make the handsome waiter and talented musician flash into her thoughts. They’d spent their time apart emailing, sending pictures and talking on Skype. She was taking Italian classes and he was always happy to help, especially with phrases that her Italian teacher would blush to teach. She’d been practising on piano too.

And yet, and yet… she hadn’t told him about her sudden decision to take this trip. Elaine’s sister Maura had hit a gatepost with her car and had to divert her holiday money to repairs, leaving a vacant place on a “girls’ holiday” to Elaine’s apartment.

Kay, after an unexpected emotional scene with her ex, Jeremy, had been coming to the realisation that it was time to make decisions about Paolo. Elaine offering her the place had seemed meant.

Montelibertà was where her life had taken its last important step forward, and something told her it would be where she decided on the next. After a lot of heart-searching, she’d decided to meet Paolo again with no plans or expectations. Maybe it was a form of defence against disappointment if things didn’t go well.

She’d had to be persuasive to get her boss, Janice, to allow her to take annual leave at the same time as Elaine, but when she’d confided the situation concerning Paolo, Janice had sighed.

“I suppose we’ll manage somehow.”

Are you lot all settled?” Elaine broke into Kay’s thoughts as she bounced out from the holiday apartment’s master bedroom. The others were all sharing; Kay with Margy and Yvonne with Sheryl but Elaine, as owner, got a room to herself. “It’s time to get out into that gorgeous Italian sun.” Unpacking was instantly abandoned. “Lunch! I’m starving,” cried Margy. “Vino,” Yvonne put in. “Cake,” added Sheryl. Kay hesitated, realising that everyone was gazing at her expectantly. She cleared her throat. “Do you mind if I head off somewhere first?”

“On your own?” Elaine asked, her brows almost disappearing into her hair. When Kay didn’t explain, she shrugged. “OK. You’ll find us at Il Giardino. It’s in front of Casa Felice, the hotel at the top of the hill. Very popular. You can’t miss it if you head up Via Virgilio.”

“Lovely.” Kay tried to smile reassuringly but she couldn’t blame Elaine for looking at her askance. She was being a touch mysterious but she was on pins about seeing Paolo again. Now she was back in the home town she had the urge to hurry off to Caffe del Teatro in Corso Musica. He was going to be surprised…

Calling goodbye and letting herself out of the apartment, she crossed Piazza Roma and then Piazza Santa Lucia, her heart doing cartwheels inside her chest.

She tried to picture Paolo’s expression when he saw her. Delight? She hoped so. Disbelief? Probably! Fingers crossed, not uncomfortable or even horrified.

She was all too aware that a goodlooking man in a tourist town had probably had holiday affairs before; he’d said nothing about another woman in his life but that didn’t mean there wasn’t one.

Granted, he often said he hoped Kay would come back to Montelibertà, but that wasn’t a guarantee of a future together. He’d never hinted that he was saving up for a ticket to England… and she’d never shared her daydreams of living here, in this charming town of long summers and majestic mountain views.

Turning into Corso Musica and its steep ascent, she arrived at the door of Caffe del Teatro. After a pause to catch her breath and quiet her scudding heart, she opened the door and stepped inside.

The only thing that seemed to have changed was that the café was full of tourists instead of locals and there were waiting staff. None of them was Paolo.

She hovered for a moment, fighting a feeling of disappointment. She’d realised Paolo might not be on duty when she

arrived but secretly she’d harboured a fantasy of him flying across the room to gather her joyfully into his arms.

Instead a young woman with curly dark hair bunched on top of her head smiled, “Buongiorno,” and indicated an empty table.

Automatically, Kay returned, “Buongiorno,” but she dithered. If Paolo was off duty then she didn’t really want to sit and eat alone. But if he was just out of sight, as Greta seemed to be as Kay could not see her either, then she would happily enjoy a plate of pasta while she waited.

The waitress was beginning to regard her questioningly. Kay had rehearsed the necessary Italian, but it deserted her and she blurted out, “Is Paolo here, please?” The waitress’s eyes became interested. “Sorry. He works now at Il Giardino.” “Oh!” Embarrassment swept hotly over Kay. He’d changed his job and hadn’t told her. No! Worse. Only a few days ago he’d told a story about what had happened at work – at Caffe del Teatro. Had he been fibbing? If so… why? “Grazie,” she stammered. “Thank you.” It wasn’t until she was hurrying back down Corso Musica past the theatre that gave Caffe del Teatro its name that common sense reasserted itself.

Elaine had said Il Giardino was popular, hadn’t she? It would be a natural place for Paolo to play piano for the tourists!

She actually laughed out loud at her own stupidity, earning herself an odd look from a group of women toiling up the hill. .

The sun was beating down and she paused to buy a bottle of water while she recalled the directions Elaine had given. Sipping the water, she strolled through both piazzas in the basin Montelibertà was built in, then up the opposite slope, a busy road called Via Virgilio.

From halfway up she spotted a large area of cream-coloured parasols. She listened out for the sound of a piano, but all she could hear was traffic. When she arrived she scanned the tables, spotting two wait staff between the busy tables and one behind the bar. No piano.

“Yoohoo! Kay!” Elaine was standing, calling and waving so Kay couldn’t help but see her and her friends. Kay smiled and joined their table.

“You’re all looking pink-faced and relaxed. Is that from the sun or the prosecco?” she joked, glancing at the bubbly liquid that danced in their glasses. “I think I’d rather have something more thirst quenching.”

“Good idea.” Yvonne, waved at a waiter. “I’m ready for coffee and cake.”

It wasn’t exactly what Kay had had in mind but she was happy to munch on a salad and drink more water while the others devoured chocolate or apple cake, according to taste.

Until she glanced up and noticed there were now three wait staff buzzing around.

And the new waiter was Paolo. Pen and pad in hand, he was at a table

at the far side of Il Giardino.

The crisp lettuce and creamy dressing turned to ashes in Kay’s mouth.

He wasn’t here to play piano. Paolo had lied to her about where he was working now, and lying was never a sign of a healthy relationship.

Panicked by an overwhelming urge to get away and think, she tried to keep her head turned away from Paolo as she muttered to Elaine, “I’m not feeing so good. Here’s ten euros. Will you pay for me? Thanks.” Then, leaving Elaine’s concerned enquiries behind her, she jumped up and fled down the hill towards the safety of the apartment.

She’d been there an hour, sitting on the sofa, staring blankly out of the window at the uninspiring view of the next building, when Elaine turned up.

“Look at my trousers! The waitress knocked coffee over me and her boss tried to sack her and others stuck up for her. You’ve never seen such a to-do.” Then, when Kay didn’t respond, “What’s up?” Elaine hurried over to sit beside her.

Kay tried to smile. She knew her eyes must be red-rimmed because she’d indulged in a really good cry as soon as she’d stepped in the door.

“Well…” She sucked in a long a breath. “I suppose everyone at work’s going to know anyway. I’m pregnant.”

Slowly, Elaine sank back, eyes huge. “But, I thought you couldn’t –”

Kay gave a strangled laugh. “So did I! But the doctor said this occasionally happens. It’s as if the couple are allergic to one other. They can’t have a baby together but can have them with other people. I think I remember the fertility clinic saying it in the past.”

“So…” Elaine hesitated delicately. “It’s this Paolo who you met here?”

Nodding, Kay’s tears began to seep out again. “And I had a seriously uncomfortable scene with Jeremy. We still use the same doctor’s and by chance he came up behind me as I was making my first appointment to see the midwife.”

She shuddered at the memory. “He was so hurt, as if I got pregnant to spite him. He said everyone will know ‘it was his fault’ we hadn’t conceived. I said, ‘What do you want me to do? Vanish?’” “Oh my,” Elaine breathed. Kay nodded. “He asked if the father was pleased and I got flustered and said he didn’t know. He said, ‘You better hope he doesn’t vanish once he does.’ It started me worrying about Paolo’s reaction.”

She told Elaine about discovering Paolo working at Il Giardino instead of Caffe del Teatro. “I was sure I could trust Paolo but now I’m full of doubts.”

Elaine knit her brows. “You’re in a bit of a situation. I can see why your emotions are all over the place and, yes, you need to know why Paolo’s fibbed about something as inconsequential as a job. But don’t let Jeremy’s unkind comment destabilise you. It probably wasn’t very nice for him to discover you’re having another man’s baby.”

She gave Kay’s hand a squeeze. “But never mind him. You’ve got to contact Paolo. You have his phone number. Tell him you’re here and you need to talk.” “You make it sound so easy.”

But it wasn’t. Kay was frightened that what Jeremy had said would come true.

After lying awake for hours, Kay rose in the morning and sent Paolo a text. AreyouatCaffedelTeatro thismorning?x

It wasn’t exactly transparent of her not to mention she was in Italy but she hoped she was justified when he came straight back with: Iam!Youareatwork?x

She replied, Dayoff, and, moving quietly so as not to wake Yvonne or the others, got dressed and hurried off across the piazzas to Corso Musica.

When she arrived at Caffe del Teatro she didn’t give herself time to waver. She

She knew HER EYES were red. She’d INDULGED in a really GOOD CRY

stepped inside. There were fewer tourists today, it being so much earlier. Kay could hardly make herself look for Paolo. He wasn’t there. A young man was clearing tables and Greta worked behind the counter. At least, until she saw Kay. Then, after a second’s wide-eyed disbelief, she hurried out to grasp Kay’s shoulders and kiss her cheeks.

“You are in Montelibertà! Welcome, welcome!” Kay felt tears start in her eyes. “I’m looking for Paolo.” Greta’s eyes twinkled. “He is upstairs with our uncle for a business meeting. He finishes very soon. Caffe latte and pastry?”

Relief that Paolo was nearby and by the warmth of Greta’s greeting reassured Kay. She let herself be led to a table. “Perhaps caffe latte and biscotti, please.” She couldn’t explain that eating anything sweet early in the day could lead to morning sickness.

The modest breakfast helped steady Kay’s nerves. The café began to fill and Greta was kept too busy to chat. Kay

watched the comings and goings and, presently, was pleased to see little Martina slip in through the door.

Paolo had mentioned the little niece who no longer lived with his family often in his messages. The girl glanced about and Greta called something in rapid Italian. Kay caught “Paolo” and saw Greta point to the ceiling, so gathered she was giving Martina the same information about Paolo as she had given Kay.

Martina drifted to the piano. She put her hands to the keys but without Paolo beside her she faltered, glancing about as if to see if anyone had noticed. When faces turned her way she dropped her hands into her lap and hid behind her unbrushed hair.

Kay found herself on her feet. Martina looked up at her approach. Kay told her her name and asked in halting Italian if she too could play.

After staring for a moment, Martina shrugged and nodded.

Kay sat down on the girl’s left. Soon, with some hard thought and probably a lot of mistakes in her Italian, she was showing the youngster how to play a C chord in the left hand and compose a little melody with the other hand using the notes of the C chord – CDEFG.

Martina began to smile and soon was creating her own tune with Kay playing the occasional chord to encourage her. Seeing the pleasure on the girl’s face, it felt as if Martina played the strings to Kay’s heart along with the piano. Perhaps if Kay was ever in Italy long enough –

Then she was being pulled from the piano stool and swung off her feet into a hot embrace, Paolo’s voice seeming loud in her ear.

“Kay! You are here. Why? No, it does not matter. You are back in Montelibertà!”

“Paolo!” Kay gasped, half-laughing. Martina giggled and somebody clapped.

“You don’t tell me you are coming?” he demanded, putting her down, his eyes searching her face. “No, I do not care. I take my break early. Come!” He grasped her hand and towed her through the tables, calling back to Greta in Italian that he’d be back in an hour. Kay was quite pleased with herself that she understood.

Without releasing her, Paolo hurried her up the street to a bench by an oleander bush. Then he pulled her down and grasped both of her hands.

“I am so happy to see you.” His eyes were bright, laughing, his mouth smiling. “It’s a big surprise. My heart. Feel.” He pressed her hands to his chest.

Kay struggled to gather her thoughts. Despite Paolo’s welcome and the joy in his eyes, she didn’t know whether to answer his questions or demand answers.

All the emotions of the past weeks welled up and unplanned words bubbled out. “I’m going to have a baby.”

The muscles in Pablo’s face went slack. His fingers tightened on hers. “Scusa?”

Tears burned the backs of Kay’s eyes. His next words would determine her future. And all she could do was wait.

Paolo lifted his shoulders and his hands. His eyes asked a thousand questions but none came out of his mouth. Until, finally, he managed, “Our baby.”

She nodded. Was that horror she read in his eyes? She began to stammer. “I-I thought I couldn’t have children.” “I know this,” he breathed. For long moments they stared at each other, as if each trying to read the other’s mind.

Kay swallowed. “Have you changed your job? I saw you yesterday working at Il Giardino. You didn’t tell me.” His gaze dropped. “No.” “Why?” she whispered. “It is a bad story.” He flicked a glance at her. “My brother, Lorenzo. He is embarrassed he is too ill to work. He tries to make money at an internet casino. Of course, more is lost. Much more. “I work at Il Giardino on my day off from Caffe del Teatro for extra money. I am ashamed to tell you why I cannot save to visit you in England.”

Kay squeezed his hands. He raised his eyes in a fierce gaze. “I do not want to be a father like Lorenzo and lose a child like Martina. I will work more hours, play more piano. I cannot leave my parents and my brother all the time but somehow I get money and come often to England to see my child.” He lifted his hand to caress her cheek. “And see you. My heart hurts, Kay.”

“Mine too,” she choked out, hating to think of him working even more hours to find a way to England. She looked around, at the lavender nearby and the sun rising and made a sudden decision.

“I could come here for a while after the baby’s born. For my maternity leave. It would give us time to decide…”

He was gripping her hands so hard it hurt, eyes boring into hers. “We can be together? All three?” “We can try it,” she whispered. “I do love…” Her courage faltered. “… Italy.”

“But I,” he whispered, drawing her nearer. “I love you. I will make you love me too. Too much to ever leave. We will be a family.”

She had to swallow hard. “Oh, Paolo! I love you too. Love’s something I thought I might not get again. And a baby!”

“No, no, do not cry!” Paolo pleaded, half-laughing, his own eyes wet with tears. “It is good, Kay. We have love. Everything else we can make happen.”

Kay’s heart soared up to the blue Italian sky. “And something I haven’t felt for a while. Hope.”

Hope that, just perhaps, she’d live in this beautiful town forever with the man she loved. And their baby.

She was being PULLED from the PIANO STOOL, swung off her FEET