Alessandro's Prize. HELEN BIANCHIN
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of centuries past, and how life must have been then in comparison to today’s era.
Lunch offered a leisurely respite, and they sampled excellent cuisine, shared a light white wine, concluding with coffee before they emerged onto the street to visit a famed museo where paintings graced the walls and precious ceramics were featured.
It was Sophia who suggested they dine before returning to Lake Como, and Carlo drove them to a charming little osteria owned by a couple who made divine pasta sauce. So much so, Lily savoured the taste with a view to determining an elusive ingredient.
‘I have tried to persuade the chef to divulge the secret of his sauce,’ Sophia confided. ‘All he will do is smile, lift his
hands and offer “a bit of this, a touch of that”. Incredible, is it not?’
‘A hint of chilli, unless I’m mistaken,’ Lily posed in contemplation. ‘With perhaps a sprinkle of brown sugar to sweeten. And scallions, I think, for their crisp light taste.’
‘You would like to experiment in my kitchen?’
Lily offered an impish smile. ‘Perhaps we can experiment together. Tomorrow?’
‘I’d like nothing better.’
‘Such an honour,’ Carlo declared. ‘Only Alessandro has been permitted to try his hand in Sophia’s kitchen.’
Lily raised an eyebrow. ‘Alessandro?’
‘He worked kitchens in places no respectable person knew existed,’ Sophia revealed, sobering a little. ‘Liaised deals with undesirables likely to double-deal or worse, rather than pay up. And sleep anywhere he could find a place to lay his head.’
‘Always on the alert, and with means of protection,’ Carlo added quietly.
Lily looked at him carefully. ‘You speak from experience.’ It wasn’t a question, merely a statement.
‘Yes.’
‘As one of Alessandro’s … partners.’ She refrained from adding. in crime.
‘An interesting description,’ Carlo conceded in a lightly accented drawl.
An understatement, if ever there was one, Lily conceded, aware the reality had been far worse than either man would admit.
It was late when Carlo brought the car to a halt outside the main entrance to Sophia’s villa, and he delivered their purchases indoors, refused coffee, and bade both women buona notte.
Lily turned to Sophia as Carlo left, and issued genuine thanks for a wonderful day.
‘You’re most welcome, cara.’ Sophia hugged Lily close. ‘We will sort our purchases in the morning. Goodnight, Lily,’ she bade gently. ‘Sleep well.’
‘You, too, Zia.’
Together they ascended the staircase, then parted as Lily moved to her guest suite.
The large bed looked inviting, and she removed her clothes, took a leisurely shower, then she slid between the sheets and fell asleep almost as soon as her head hit the pillow.
It was almost seven when she woke, and she stretched her limbs, then she threw back the covers and padded to the set of windows, tilted the indoor shutters and watched in admiration as sunrise coloured the gardens to a beautiful kaleidoscope of landscaped glory.
A new day lay ahead, and she completed her morning routine before choosing dress jeans and a casual top, then she slid her feet into flat shoes and was about to leave the room when she remembered to check her laptop.
There were several emails awaiting her attention, a few of which she quickly skimmed before reaching an update from Parisi’s manager reporting that all was going well in the restaurant.
The sender of the next email was James, and her initial reaction was to delete it unread. Except curiosity led her to the deleted folder minutes later, and she read the apologetic missive, citing his remorse, heartbreak, and the plea for reconciliation, followed by a promise to be loyal and loving. if only she’d give him another chance.
It didn’t even qualify an answer.
Without pause she closed the laptop and made her way downstairs to find Sophia sipping coffee at the dining-room table while she perused the daily newspaper.
‘Good morning, cara,’ Sophia greeted with a warm smile, and indicated the table’s contents. ‘Coffee? Juice?’
Lily slid into a chair and helped herself to juice, drank it slowly.
‘Some of the fashions from the runway are written up.’ Sophia indicated the page in question. ‘Together with photos from the party. This week’s trade magazines will feature both in more detail.’ She moved the newspaper so Lily could view it.
Lily had no problem reading the Italian script, and she skimmed over the photographs, then came to a halt as she recognized one of her standing next to Alessandro at the party.
Except it wasn’t so much the photo that drew her attention, but the teasing caption speculating her identity, and if she was his latest romantic interest. Concluding with watch this space.
It angered her that innuendo and supposition combined with clever angle photography lent evidence to there being a grain of truth to the gossip.
‘Where do they get this stuff?’ Lily demanded over a second cup of coffee.
‘Cara, don’t allow it to distress you,’ Sophia attempted to soothe. ‘It’s how the media makes a living, and Alessandro has a propensity to attract attention.’
‘Which I don’t choose to share.’
Sophia commiserated in silence, all too aware Lily had captured Alessandro’s interest. She knew him so well, better than most … enough to recognize the occasions when he merely played the social game. Somehow she very much doubted this was one of them.
‘Have something to eat, then we shall attempt to duplicate pasta sauce, hmn?’
As a distraction ploy, it worked, as they combined experience, instinct and flair to create what promised to be ambrosia.
‘What do you think?’ Sophia queried as she dipped a spoon into the simmering sauce and held it out for Lily to taste.
‘Close.’ So very close, but something was missing. She made a sudden decision. ‘Another pinch of brown sugar, and I’m going to add a bay leaf. Maybe that’ll do it.’
‘This is so much fun. I remember Mamma would make her own pasta and teach your mother and me how to make panini. Her kitchen was always the focal point of our house, filled with different aromas. She had the most comprehensive herb garden … and her vegetables were the best tended in the village.’
‘I’ve heard some of the stories … how the chickens each had names,’ Lily declared with a warm laugh.
‘There were a few ducks, turkeys, and a pig you named Mirabella.’
Sophia chuckled. ‘Poor Mirabella. She didn’t realize she was a pig. I woke one morning and she wasn’t there.’ She shook her head. ‘Papa explained, Mamma consoled … but I haven’t been able to eat pork since.’
While the sauce continued to simmer they took out fine flour, eggs and made pasta, which they ate for lunch with fresh crusty bread.
‘Hmm, this is so good,’ Sophia complimented, while Lily lifted a hand and tilted it back and forth.
‘But not quite right.’ Her forehead creased a little. ‘Next time I’ll ditch the bay leaf and add a pinch of paprika.’
‘Lily, this dish would draw genuine praise in the finest restaurant.’ Sophia’s eyes lit with a mischievous sparkle. ‘You are bent on a mission.’
‘Uh-huh.’