The Sweet Life (12 page)

Janey tried to keep the astonishment and delight out of her voice. ‘I am most assuredly free for a little walking.’ The day suddenly looked very much the opposite of ‘off ’. She tossed the guidebooks back into her daypack as Luca disconnected, after promising to be there in fifteen minutes.

Pretty soon, the buzzer sounded and Janey checked her reflection critically one more time before bounding out of the apartment and out through the villa’s grand front entrance. Luca was leaning up against the low brick wall that separated the villa’s immaculate formal gardens from the street, with his hands in his pockets. The smile that lit up his eyes as soon as he spotted Janey did something funny to her breathing.
He
really does seem happy to see me!
she thought wonderingly.

Of course, he was also looking totally crush-worthy in a sleek, black, open-necked shirt with the shirt sleeves rolled up each tanned forearm, worn jeans with hems of just the right degree of frayed-ness, and black leather slides. Janey had to stop a huge, goofy grin from breaking out all over her face.

‘Come sta, signorina?’ Luca smiled as he pushed away from the front wall and slid his blue-tinted aviators onto his nose. He looked down at Janey’s feet, which she presented for his inspection, telling herself fiercely not to question her luck or pry about those other (grrrr!)
girlfriends
.

‘Flats – no more “too-high-shoes”,’ she grinned, recalling Luca’s words from the night before. ‘Although I can’t do much about my too-big feet. And no more “signorina” from now on, as Freddy ordered. It’s just Janey.’

Luca smiled and shrugged before taking one of Janey’s hands in his, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
To him, maybe!
thought Janey, telling herself firmly not to get too excited, because he probably did this with everybody. She tried hard to act normal and not hyperventilate all over the place. And with that, began one of the most perfect days of her life.

They started with coffee and pastries at a dimly lit little café just north of the Stazione Centrale Roma Termini, where the few locals who were about on this hot, sleepy Sunday morning took their breakfast standing up as they browsed through the morning’s papers.

‘Just keep walking,’ Luca insisted laughingly when Janey queried where they were off to next. ‘We have much to see.’ He wrapped his fingers through hers again and they were off on a day-long magical mystery tour that served up a mind-boggling mix of ancient wonders, awe-inspiring window-shopping and people-watching opportunities and – Luca having read Janey well –
plenty
of pit stops for eating.

‘This granita is an absolute godsend,’ sighed Janey as they sat at a tiny, marble-topped table in one of the narrow corridors packed with portraits and landscapes that the Antico Caffè Greco – located in the heart of Rome’s designer shopping district – was world-famous for. They’d been criss-crossing the ancient city centre for hours already and had seen so many frescoed churches, galleries, museums and public buildings that Janey had run out of space on her camera’s memory card. It was
stuffed
with photos of obscure obelisks, ceremonial arches, columns commemorating long-forgotten battles, carved marble angels by the score and, of course, photos of Janey clowning around Rome’s many fountains. Luca had ducked out of the frame with a smiling shake of his head the few times Janey had tried to capture him doing the same.

Luca threw his head back now and laughed. He looked coolly out of place among the flushed and badly dressed tourists thronging the almost 250-year-old former hangout of poets, lovers, kings, composers and artists. Janey had spent most of the afternoon pigging out on what Luca had decreed the world’s best tartufo, gelato, piadina, antipasto and bruschetta. ‘Miracolo!’ he said. ‘That there is room in your stomach, even for that . . .’

Janey giggled as she scooped up the last of the lemon syrup-infused ice drink with a silver spoon and snaffled the last piece of torrone from the plate that lay between them. ‘Me and buffets?’ she grinned, popping the sticky-sweet nougat confection into her mouth, ‘it’s not pretty. Where to now?’

It was almost four, and they’d also managed to name-check the flagship Valentino, Fendi, Armani, Gucci, Versace and D&G stores. Just being with Luca had made her less nervous about breezing through as if she could actually afford anything inside! Janey wasn’t sure how much more of the city she could take in, though she was loving it all and not wanting the day to ever end. Though it had been slightly marred by the number of mobile phone calls Luca had had to take. And the vast majority of them
had
been from girls; Janey could tell by the way Luca’s eyes softened and his sexy voice suddenly implied that the caller was the most important woman in the world. Each time he hung up, he would apologise, making Janey yearn for a little less impeccable politeness from him. Maybe if she suddenly grew a bust or got, like, a metre of blonde hair extensions, she might have more luck, Janey thought as the phone rang for the umpteenth time.

Though she told herself not to be stupid.
She
was the person he was holding hands with after all. And after their fight last night, today was a gift. She pushed away the niggling thought that Celia would
not
approve.

‘Just one more place,’ said Luca after the call ended, refusing to elaborate as they walked back out into the hot afternoon sunshine and headed back up the winding streets towards the Via Veneto, the place that Janey had called Em from the other day, centre of all things Fellini. ‘To reach the villa, we must pass it.’

They dashed across the always psychotically busy Piazza Barberini together towards yet another church – located at the foot of the Via Veneto – which stood in stark contrast to the functional-looking government buildings, fancy hotels, sports car showrooms and bus stops that surrounded it on all sides.

Luca said quietly, ‘Santa Maria della Concezione dei Cappuccini. Built in 1626 by Cardinal Antonio Barberini. It is one of our city’s greatest secrets. All the people I drive, for the embassy, this they
always
want to see.’

Janey looked up at the dirty brick and plaster façade of the unremarkable-looking church and wrinkled her forehead. Perhaps it was something to do with . . . coffee?

‘Um,’ she said, pushing her fringe out of her eyes, ‘is there a must-see fresco in there? Because I’m all out of memory.’ She dangled her camera.

Luca smiled. ‘The fratelli, the Capuchin friars, they do not allow the pictures, in any case. Your eyes, they are enough.’

He ushered her up the front steps and led her through the church towards a man dressed in plain religious robes, who Janey realised must be a friar.

‘You ready?’ Luca asked, placing a donation into the friar’s bowl for the two of them. Janey smiled her assent, wondering what this simple-looking building could possibly house that made it so famous. Strangely, they had the building almost to themselves, for the heat of the day had driven the crowds of tourists to seek the cool of nearby department stores, gelaterias and tearooms.

They followed the friar as he led them beneath the church and in through a series of barred iron gates.

Janey drew in a shocked breath.
She didn’t believe what she
was seeing
.

It was a six-roomed crypt. And five of the rooms were decorated, floor to ceiling, with human bones and skulls that had been used to form shapes, patterns and Christian symbols. Here and there full-sized skeletons reposed in Capuchin robes, or were made to resemble the Grim Reaper, complete with scythe.

‘It is an ossuary,’ Luca murmured as the silent, elderly monk took them from one bone-filled room to another. ‘Almost four thousand are here. The Capuchin dead, and also the poor of Rome, who could not find burial elsewhere. It is interesting, no?’

The further they progressed within the dimly lit crypt, the fainter Janey felt. Maybe it was the heat, or the claustrophobic closeness of the place, or even the densely patterned swirls made up of human vertebrae and other bones that marched across the walls and ceilings, but Janey felt herself begin to sway. She was a tender-hearted creature and was the only one, of all her friends, who had to watch the gory parts of horror movies through her fingers. There were even lampshades made out of bones, Janey noted in horror.

‘I’m sorry, Luca,’ she mumbled suddenly, ‘but I think I’m going to be
sick
.’

Luca glanced sharply at her and said something to their guide in rapid Italian before putting an arm around Janey and whisking her back outside. He sat Janey down on the front stairs of the church. It was five minutes before she could bring herself to say anything, her embarrassment was so great.

‘I’m sorry,’ she said, the colour slowly returning to her face. ‘But I’m just a bit
over
death at the moment.’

‘No,’ Luca replied grimly, ‘it is I who am sorry. I was not thinking. Sua madre . . .’

Janey shook her head. ‘Mum would’ve thought this was a hoot. Especially the Latin inscription at the exit that says: “What you are, we used to be. What we are, you will be.” It’s so
true
, and so very clever. But I’m not a very brave person. And it’s a hot day. I just needed some air. I guess I’m just tired.’

In fact, the place had reminded Janey all too forcefully of the stark realities of death. A wave of panicky nausea threatened to overwhelm her again and she took several deep breaths to get her emotions under control, hoping she wouldn’t throw up on Luca’s sandals.

‘Then we ’ave seen enough today,’ he responded. ‘And you are very brave, more brave than Federica and her friends, who hid their fear of this place in jokes and foul language that made the Capuchin who was their guide very angry. He asked them to leave.’

Janey gave him a wan smile. When some of her colour had returned, Luca hauled her gently to her feet and took one hand again in his, tucking it into the crook of his elbow.

They wound their way slowly back up the Via Veneto, stopping for one more watermelon granita, which succeeded in banishing the last of Janey’s melancholy mood. When they finally reached Celia’s villa, Luca left Janey at the front entrance with a gentle kiss on the forehead. And she closed her eyes for a moment as he walked briskly away without a backward look, her mouth a gentle, happy curve.

Freddy was home and using the computer in the study as Janey let herself in.

‘Hi Freddy,’ Janey called as she walked past the room where Freddy sat shrieking into the screen in Italian, the headset and webcam on.

Freddy waved gaily before nudging the door shut with one foot.

Two hours later and Janey – showered and dressed for ages and wondering whether she should attempt to make dinner for her hosts or suggest an outing – overheard a heated discussion in Italian in the hallway.
Celia must be back
, Janey thought, as she opened her bedroom door. Her aunt must have been waylaid on embassy business. Plus, they ate late here. She pinned a smile on her face, determined to clear the air with her aunt about why she’d returned so late from the rave. She was sure they would be laughing about it in no time.

‘Hi!’ Janey said, as she looked from Celia’s thunderous expression to Freddy’s worried one and wondered why her cousin suddenly murmured, ‘Good luck!’ before grabbing her handbag and flying out of the apartment.

‘Did I not make it
clear
,’ began Celia, as she stalked down the hall to the formal sitting room, ‘that you are to stay away from Luca Sarti, except in the case of a dire emergency?’

Janey’s smile faltered as she followed her aunt. ‘Um, he asked me out for coffee this morning and we ended up doing a little sight-seeing. That’s all.’

‘That’s
all
?’ Celia exclaimed, tossing her briefcase, handbag and tailored jacket down on the nearest armchair before turning and planting her hands on her hips.

Janey nodded uncertainly.

Celia looked incredulous. ‘And when does “sight-seeing” include you kissing Luca on the front steps of this villa, in full sight of the families of most of my closest friends and colleagues in this city? Steven Edwards in 1B saw the two of you on his way out when you got back from doing God knows what today. He assumed you were Luca’s latest squeeze! I assured him you most certainly were
not
and clarified that you were my sixteen-year-old niece. You’ve been alone together for
hours
! You’re way too young to get involved with someone like him. I don’t want you to get hurt or get yourself into trouble. Don’t make me bring this up with him! Luca Sarti is off-limits in the romance department. Do I make myself clear?
Again
?’

Janey nodded shakily, knowing Celia had hopelessly misread an entirely innocent situation.
Again
.

‘Maybe this was all a bad idea,’ said Celia, lowering her voice. ‘Maybe I should just put you back on a plane to Australia before you make a mistake like . . .’ She stopped herself before she said anything more hurtful and added over her shoulder as she walked away, ‘I’ll just be in the kitchen fixing us something simple to eat, unless you have other plans . . .’