Runaway Love (14 page)

He studied her for several seconds.  “Va bene,” he said finally.  “I understand.  We can call this a mad moment.”

“That's it.  A mad moment,” Genie said.  Confused thoughts rattled through her mind.  Was she relieved by his apparent acceptance, or wasn't she?  Did she want him to press on and make love to her? 

Yes she did. 

No she didn't. 

Who could tell?  She surely couldn't.

All she did know was, she'd blown a magic moment.

Lorenzo appeared to recover.  “Come.  I'm still hungry.”

She laughed, relieved by the distraction.  As his hand embraced hers in his strong, warm grip, she experienced a surge of delight.  How silly she'd been.  Childish, even.  Whatever must he think?

Too late now.

Another time, perhaps? 

Next time, she told herself, bury your paranoia - and throw away your chastity belt.

Now he wants to eat.

That's a good start.  The way to a man's heart and all that.

“The trouble is, Lorenzo,” she said, half running to keep up with his strong stride, “thanks to the wolves, we're going to have to cook another batch of spaghetti.”

Chapter Twenty-Five

That kiss.

The more Genie trundled the events of the previous evening around in her head, the more ridiculous she felt about her reaction.  The episode with the wolves may have been a bit chancy, but what's wrong with kissing?  This was the 21st Century, for heaven's sake.  People kissed all the time.  A peck on the cheek to a full-blown ravenous feast on the lips and tongue was acceptable behaviour these days.

The memory of her mouth-to-mouth contact with Lorenzo sprang to life in Technicolor, generating a pleasant tingle in the back of her throat and on her lips.  The rest of her turned to mush for a few seconds, congealing only when the movie in her head arrived at the point of her rejection.

She clenched her fists in irritation.  She'd been stupid.

It was nice. 

It was
exceptionally
nice.   

“Next time - if there is a next time - I’ll let the kiss take its natural course - and lead us to wherever destiny takes us.”  After all, a kiss isn’t an unbreakable contract.   It doesn’t mean to say that we’re committed to each other forever.

Therefore, in the days that followed, Genie prepared herself to receive any kisses that were going around. 

Unfortunately, in the days that followed, it looked increasingly like her preparations and expectations were not to be realized.

Lorenzo had slipped back into his just-good-friends mode.  He was friendly, warm and helpful as usual.  Their shared responsibilities were as much fun as ever.  As a result, Genie had no choice but to settle in to respond to Lorenzo in kind. 

There were times when their conversation occasionally lapsed into awkward silence, however, as Genie - and she sensed, Lorenzo - set aside one unspoken subject or another as too risky.  Nevertheless, while Genie realized that the kiss added a sensitive edge to their conversation, it also served as a shared 'secret' that forged a more intimate link.

Domino was the only 'being' around that Genie could talk to about the post-kiss situation.  He paid her rapt attention every time, but, sadly, had no advice to offer.

Then, nature delivered a change that caused Genie and Lorenzo to view each other in a yet different, even more sensitive light.  The surprisingly warm weather had thawed the snow sufficiently to allow Lorenzo to call in help to clear the pass.

Genie wondered why he wanted to clear away the snow so quickly.  Couldn't he have allowed nature and the Italian sun to finish the job?  Had her reaction to the kiss shaken him so much? 

“Getting ready to throw me out?” she ventured.

“No.  Of course not.  I make these arrangements every year.”

“So, I can...continue my journey without falling foul of avalanches?”

“If that is what you want.” His eyes drooped the way sadness affect them. 

“Would it be all right if I choose when?” Genie responded softly, moved by his reaction.

He brightened visibly. “You know the answer to that.”

“Thank you, Lorenzo,” she said.  “I'd like a little time to adjust to the idea of...choice, if that's okay with you.”

His smile was marginally short of a beam.  “Certo.  There is no hurry.  You can stay as long as you want.”  

Conversely, the cleared pass hung a cloud of uncertainty over their heads.  At times, the tension was almost palpable.  Each day, Genie felt she had to make a decision.  And each day, she sensed Lorenzo had to exert considerable effort to avoid asking for the answer.

Perhaps it was just as well he didn't ask because Genie didn't know the answer.

Leaving was inevitable However Genie was hesitant to pin down a 'when'.  She had to go sometime.  That was certain.  So why was she dragging her feet?  The problem was, whenever she thought about leaving, she had to battle with a wild fluttering of her heart and a sickening knot in her stomach.

Even when she told herself, “Not today,” the fluttering took a while to subside.

The knot took longer.

Even then, it continued to lay dormant.  She could sense its presence all the time.

Then, two days after the pass was cleared, she decided.  “It's no good going on like this,” she told Domino.  “I'm going to tell your Dad that I will go home tomorrow.”

The fluttering in her heart was so wild, she thought she might have a cardiac arrest.

At breakfast, while Genie worked at plucking up her courage to tell Lorenzo of her plan, he came up with a distraction.

“I thought that when I have finished here, we can walk down to the San Rafaele.  Have lunch there.”

“That'd be great,” Genie said, relieved to be able to drop her decision into the 'Pending File' once again. “May I find something suitable to wear from Anna's wardrobe?”

“Certo.  Make sure the clothes are warm.”

“Thank you.  I have learned that lesson in spades since I've been here.” 

“We can also collect your valuables and your car - if you like.”

“I'd like that.  If my cameras are okay, I can take a few pictures.  Memories.”

“Something to remember your snowed-in Alpine holiday.”

Genie felt a serious thump in her chest.  Holidays have the habit of coming to an end.

Domino showed how much he enjoyed his new freedom as soon as they closed the gate behind them.  He lumbered on ahead, woofing from time to time at nothing in particular.  Then, after he'd run a few meters, he turned and raced back for praise and petting. 

Genie paused when they arrived at the spot where she had been buried and studied the barely exposed rocky projection that had saved her long enough for Domino to find and save her.  

Domino joined her and snuffled generally around the area.

“I almost died here,” she said.

Lorenzo placed his arm around her shoulders and gave them a brief squeeze. “Domino wouldn't have let you die.”

“Nor did you.” She looked up at him and smiled.  “I owe you so much.”

“What for?”

“Oh, I don't know - everything.”  She leaned her head against his chest. “For pulling me out of my snow tomb, especially.  For carrying me back home, especially.  For bathing me...no, I think we'd better forget that part.”

“You can forget it if you like.” He eased himself free and turned away to resume their walk.  “It’s an experience I will remember forever.”

“You'd better not,” Genie scolded and ran to catch up with him. 

“I might even paint it.”

“You dare.”

“I can paint things from memory, you know.”

”In that case, I order you to wipe it from your memory.  If I find you remembering it - and I'll be able to tell by that lecherous look on your face - I shall never speak to you again.”

It really wasn't funny but they both laughed just the same.

The road wound through the snow-laden trees, rising on white slopes.  To Genie, it was a living picture postcard. “This is really beautiful, Lorenzo,” Genie said.  “I can see why you like to live up here.”

  As they progressed, the trees became sparser, and the village came into view.  Faint music wafted towards her and the distant sound of excited voices rose above it in intermittent waves.  

The road transformed into a narrow street which, in turn led directly into the village square.  It was fed by three other narrow streets entering more or less from each corner. 

Shops touting a myriad of sports equipment and clothing, the usual gifts, basic foodstuffs, boutiques, a beauty parlour and Italian and international cuisine via two smart restaurants took up the east and west sides of the square. 

The north and south sides each had their own elegant hotel.  In front of both of the hotels, ice carvings of adults and children in skiing or skating poses added to the fairy-tale atmosphere.  The sun was taking its toll on the ice but the details were still visible.

Although Lorenzo and Genie had to dodge the occasional car passing through the square the main transport seemed to be ornate horse-drawn carriages.  In place of wheels, the carriages were mounted on skis.   They positioned themselves before the snow carvings.  As one lurched into motion filled with excited tourists on a joy ride, another immediately took its place.

Their progress through the square was slow.  Everyone knew Lorenzo. It was, “”Signor Lorenzo,” this, and “Signor Lorenzo,” that, and the stops for chats in Italian too fast for Genie to follow were interminable.

They even lavished their attention on Domino as if he was a celebrity.

Perhaps he was.  Probably rescued a few people.

Naturally, Genie received once-overs in spades.  Lorenzo’s acquaintances were extremely curious and paid her serious attention.  Nevertheless, it wasn’t hard to see in their expressions that they’d already decided about her relationship with Lorenzo. 
His gracious introductions of, “Mi amica, Signorina Genie ‘Amilton,” did nothing, she was sure, to quell their fertile imaginations.

Despite this, the people responded with genuine warmth that Genie had rarely experienced before.  It was clear that whoever she was didn't matter since she was L'amica di Signor Lorenzo - in whatever form.

Genie handled it all with as much amusement as did Lorenzo. “They don't quite know what to make of you,” he told her.

“But they have their ideas.”

“Assolutamente.” He turned to her wearing that grin that always created havoc with Genie's heart. “They must have heard about the incident with the bath.”

“Lorenzo,” Genie scolded, landing a friendly punch on his arm.

However, their keen observations did create a little uneasiness in Genie.  She wasn't one for putting up a front but, with the way everyone was deferring to Lorenzo, she felt that she was improperly dressed for the occasion.  She had chosen jeans, a casual woollen top and a padded jacket for the outing.  If they wanted to imagine her as someone special in Lorenzo's life, the least she could do was to look the part.

Worse still, all these people must have seen Anna in this get-up.

It was doing an injustice to Anna - and to Lorenzo.

They must be seeing her as a usurper - Lorenzo's replacement woman.

That made her decision for her.

It really was time to go.

Tomorrow would be a good time.

Time to tell Lorenzo.

Over lunch would be a good time.  

Chapter Twenty-Six

The local Police Headquarters - or as Lorenzo called it, “The Questura” - was an imposing building just off the main square.  A partially filled car park fronted the Questura, and the wide steps that led to the main door gave it an air of elegance.   It looked as though it had been a private villa in the old days. 

Inside, they encountered a sparse, immaculately clean entrance hall.  Genie spotted two closed doors off to her right, with a solid-looking bench in between.  It didn't look very comfortable.  She hoped they wouldn't have to sit there for a long time while the cops sorted out her stuff.  She saw another door facing her at the far end, with an ascending staircase a meter or so to its right.  However, the main attraction was a long counter, running the full length of the room, to her left.

As Genie, Lorenzo and Domino neared the counter, a portly police sergeant rose from his swivel chair, shuffled out from his paper-engulfed desk  and met them with a wide grin and, of course, another effusive, “Ben venuto Signor Lorenzo”.

“Grazie Marco,” Lorenzo responded.   

Genie wondered if anybody ever used surnames In San Rafaele.

The moment she heard, “Signorina Genie” in the midst of Lorenzo's rapid Italian, she became the subject of keen scrutiny by the Sergeant. 

“This is Sergeant Antonelli,” Lorenzo said.

Domino pushed his way protectively in between Genie and the counter.

“Pleased to meet you,” Genie responded, leaning over Domino's ample body and stretching out her hand to the Sergeant.

“Piacere.”  Sergeant Antonelli then grasped her hand, let loose a veritable downpour of Italian and, in between, kissed the back of her hand no less than three times.

“It seems he likes you,” Lorenzo said through a wicked smile.

Greetings over, there followed a great deal of chatter between Lorenzo and the Desk Sergeant, while the latter looked at Genie for most of the conversation.  Finally, Lorenzo turned to her. “Sergeant Antonelli is very apologetic about your being robbed.  He says it is a blot on his country and his countrymen.  The Sergeant wants you to know that these terrible criminals will be in prison for a long time.  He wishes to apologize most profusely to the lady of Signor Lorenzo.”

“So, I'm your lady now, am I?” Genie said in mock seriousness.

“Only for this visit,” Lorenzo said.  “It will get things done more quickly.”  He shrugged. 

“Quickly is good,” Genie said.  “I accept the honour of being the lady of Signor Lorenzo - for the time being.  Besides, it looks like it's the key to getting special treatment around here.  Oh, and I accept the Sergeant's apology too.”

Lorenzo responded with a smile and made a short statement to the Sergeant. 

He, in turn, placed his hand on his heart and poured out a tsunami of “Grazies”. 

When the last one dropped from Sergeant Antonelli's lips, as if in response to a silent signal, two other Policemen appeared from the door at the rear.  They positioned themselves one each side of Sergeant Antonelli.  Once again, Genie had to endure another round of greetings and quick chats with Signor Lorenzo.  All the while the three Cops shot Genie admiring glances, bordering on lust, in that non-offensive way only the Italians can achieve.

In the middle of all this, Genie a well-fed policeman making a grand entrance down the staircase caught Genie's attention.  His confident military-style walk and his immaculate, amply decorated uniform, positively screamed, “I'm in charge around here.”

Domino was highly delighted to see the new arrival.  He abandoned Genie and trotted over to the foot of the stairs to be greeted with a bucket load of pats of affection and soothing words.

“Genie,” Lorenzo said, “I'd like you to meet my good friend, Commissario Bernardo Testa. 

The Commissario disengaged himself from Domino and advanced on Genie wearing a broad grin.  He grasped Genie's hand and clicked his heels to attention. “Piacere,” he said.  “It is an honour to meet you.” He spoke in a slow measured pace as if he had practiced it ready for this occasion. 

By the time he'd finished with Genie's hand, she wondered if the back of it would ever recover.  It had been kissed sore.

Once Commissario Testa had dispensed with the requisite enthusiastic greetings and chatter - in exotic English - he puffed out his chest and barked out an order in Italian. 

Since he was looking at Genie at the time she wondered if she had to do something - or had committed some local crime.  But, when Sergeant Antonelli said, “Si, Commissario,” she knew she was off the hook.

The Sergeant hauled out a small cardboard box and placed it carefully on the counter.  He laid out Genie's stolen items, one by one, with flourishes that would have put a stage magician to shame.  She verified each one and breathed a sigh of relief as her credit and charge cards made their appearance. 

Following the finale of the performance, while Genie gathered her belongings, San Rafaele's finest engaged Lorenzo with a flow of chatter, much of it, Genie recognized referred to her.  Some even brought smiles from Lorenzo.  At one point, he released an audible snigger, prompting Genie to elbow him in his ribs.

To complete the procedure, she had to sign a mountain of forms under the gentle guidance of Commissario Testa.  When they had been double-checked by Sergeant Antonelli, complete with more profuse apologies about the robbery, he handed her one copy while voicing, “Grazie mille Signorina” in triplicate.  He pinned the remaining copies together and placed carefully on a lofty stack of documents, in imminent danger of toppling over, in - or more properly - on, what Genie guessed was an out tray. 

“Is that it?” Genie asked.

“Un momento,” Lorenzo said.  He fielded what appeared to be a question or request from Commissario Testa.

“What's happening?” Genie asked.

“Commissario Testa was shy to ask you.”

Il Commissario nodded his concurrence.

“Ask away,” she said, looking directly at Testa.

“He would like you to take a photograph of him and his colleagues.”

Genie laughed. “What on earth for?”

“They seem to think you are a famous photographer.”

“Where did they--?”

“Please do not ask.  You may disillusion them.  Is it all right?”

“Of course it is,” she said picking up her favourite single lens reflex.  She confirmed it was still in working order and loaded with a digital disc. “No problema,” she told Testa. 

Her use of Italian evoked a round of exaggerated laughter of approval from the
on looking Policemen.

When she was ready, using hand signals and the odd instruction in Italian, she managed to get them into a pleasantly composed grouping.  Holding her camera out to examine them in the viewfinder, she told them to shout, “Formaggio.”  As soon as the word was out and the laughter followed, she snapped off several rapid shots.

“Lorenzo, please tell them I'll send them a copy when I get back to England.”

When Lorenzo passed on her message, they got very excited.  The Sergeant grabbed a piece of paper and quickly wrote down their addresses.  As he handed the paper to her, he made his own request to Lorenzo.

“What'd he say?” Genie asked.

“He...they - these are his words - they would like it very much if La Signorina 'Amilton would be kind enough to join them for a photograph as well.”

Genie struggled to remain serious.  “Of course,” she said. “Certo, Sergente.”

“I volunteered to work the camera,” Lorenzo said.

Genie gave him a quick course in camera management and joined the bevy of policemen behind the counter.  Somehow, they all managed to stand in bodily contact with her.

Not to be left out, Domino moved in close to the group, turned round to face Lorenzo, and sat down on Genie's feet. 

Lorenzo demanded a shout of “cheese,” from everyone and the flash did its work.

Before they escaped, Genie had to shake hands with everyone, receiving, in addition a kiss on the back of her hand from the gracious Commissario Testa.

Domino nosed his way in between them and snuffled.

“I'm sorry, Commissario, he won't leave me alone.”

“He guard you well, no?” He patted Domino's back several times, soothing him with, “Va bene Va bene.”  He then stood up and shaking hands with Lorenzo, he made a brief comment in rapid Italian.

“What was that all about?” she asked, following their escape.

“Oh, nothing really.”

“Lorenzo,” Genie said, grabbing his arm to halt him.  “That was an awful lot of words from Il Commissario to be nothing.”

He shrugged.  “If you must know, he congratulated me on my lucky find.”

Genie loosed an unladylike guffaw. “He's right.  I am a lucky find.”

“Yes, you are,” Lorenzo said quietly.

For once, Genie experienced tongue-paralysis.  It was clear Lorenzo meant what he said - and just as clear, so were the feelings with which he said it.  Her resolve to announce her imminent departure started to fray at the edges.

“Shall we go,” Lorenzo said after a few seconds silence. “I need to spend a little time 'arranging for some supplies.  Why don't you have a cup of coffee at the Skating Rink Coffee Shop and I'll join you there?”

“I'll tell you what, Lorenzo,” Genie said, “you go and do your thing.  Now that I'm out in public, I feel a little dowdy.  Can't have La Signorina di Lorenzo - that is to say, his lucky find - looking dowdy, now can we?”

“You do not look...dowdy - what is--?”

“Not very smart.”

“Dowdy - smart,” he said to settling the new word into his personal English vocabulary.  “You look very fine to me.”

“Well, I want to look better than very fine, thank you very much.  I'm going to pay a visit to that beauty parlour over there.”

“Va bene.  We'll meet in the Rink Coffee Shop when you're ready.  Then we'll have lunch.”

The mention of lunch jarred Genie.  It was supposed to be a make or break time.  “Sounds good,” she said. “But, I’ll have to see if they can fit me in first.”

Lorenzo made a wicked grin. “Just tell them that you’re La Signorina di Signor Lorenzo,” he said. “They’ll fit you in.”

“Wonderful.  I'm going to be typecast in this town forever after this.”

“I'm afraid you already are.  Gossip is an important hobby in San Rafaele.”

“Ah well,” Genie said, “in that case, it's doubly important that I get a 'full service'.  Can't have the reputation of Signor Lorenzo dented by a scruffy urchin.  I'll carry a red rose when I come out so you'll recognize me.”

“No need.” Lorenzo started to back away. “I'll just look for Domino.  It looks like he's determined to stay with you.”

“Wonderful again.  I'll get him a makeover too.  He can carry the red rose.”