‘This is your first visit to Lake Garda?’ he asked.
‘Yes. It’s a beautiful place.’
Luca shrugged. ‘Not so beautiful in high season when you’re trying to drive anywhere, but yes. It is very wonderful for a holiday.’
‘Amy’s here for her job,’ Hugh said. ‘Works for a British celebrity – for her sins.’
‘You don’t enjoy your work?’ Luca asked, maybe confused by Hugh’s choice of words.
‘No, I do. It’s a great job – I’m her PA and get to travel all over the world. It’s Billie Forsythe-Rogers – you might have heard of her?’ When the driver shook his head, Amy embellished. ‘She’s a food writer, and a restaurant critic, so we visit amazing restaurants, too. Anyway, this trip to Casa del Cibo is part holiday, part work. She’s going to write an article about what it’s like to holiday at a cookery school for a UK newspaper, in their glossy magazine.’
‘Sounds exciting,’ Luca said, settling his attention back onto the road ahead.
Exciting. As she thought about his choice of word, Amy found herself frowning. It did sound exciting – it had certainly seemed that way to Amy when she’d first landed the job. Her mum had been suitably impressed, her friends keen for titbits of celebrity gossip, especially about Billie’s other half, Kelly Straker.
But the thought that being on the shores of Lake Garda would be followed by a trip somewhere else, or time spent at Billie’s base in Knightsbridge working on copy for the article, answering invitations and dealing with correspondence now had Amy sighing, rather than gearing up for the next adventure. It made her remember Nanna Gold’s reaction to the news of her job with Billie, which had been more careful and guarded than Amy had expected.
When they arrived at the Monte Baldo cable car station, Luca drew the long lines of the black sedan as close to the station as possible, ignoring the road markings. With flawless Italian nonchalance at the fact he was blocking the road, he rounded the rear of the car and opened her door, offering his hand to help her out before opening Hugh’s door and assisting him. It was the kind of chauffeured car Billie might ask Amy to hire to make a splash when she arrived at a high-profile party, and yet it seemed as though Hugh saw it as no more than a taxi ride, a comfortable way to reach the Monte Baldo cable car. And for his part, Luca treated Hugh with calm warmth, as though they were long-standing acquaintances.
‘Call when you are ready to go back, Signore Bradbury.’
‘I will. Thank you, Luca.’
‘You are sure you don’t need my assistance to the cable car?’
Hugh smiled, tapping his cane against the tarmac. ‘No, I have my faithful backup leg – and I’m sure Amy will catch me if I stumble.’
Luca took his leave and Hugh struck out for the cable car building; his cane tucked over his arm. Amy grinned as she followed, wondering why he’d brought it at all if it was going to be this redundant. Instead of joining the queue, Hugh guided her to an entry point further along – the priority access lane, which took them straight to the next gondola as it swung through the station, holding his phone for the official to scan as they passed through the barriers.
‘Brian and I used to come here a lot when we first visited Lake Garda,’ he said. ‘Learnt all the tricks, including the priority ticket system.’ He tucked the phone away in his messenger bag, stringing it across his shoulder as they took their places in the glass bubble.
The view on the way up was as awesome as Amy had expected – it reminded her of the trips she’d made to mountaintops when visiting the Alps with Billie. Minus the snow, obviously, and she told Hugh as much.
‘Somehow the view from a mountain never gets dull,’ he replied. ‘I believe it does something positive to the human spirit. Puts things into perspective – and not only literally.’
At the top they disembarked, and Hugh gave Amy a moment or two to take in the spectacular view. He fumbled in his bag as she stared out at the wide blue yonder, then handed her a cannister of insect repellent.
‘Another trick. The flies up here can be ferocious, so feel free to swoosh yourself.’
Amy did so, handing the can back to Hugh, who did the same. Then she glanced around at all the people milling about, the cyclists scrunching gravel beneath their wheels as they glided past, the rows of faces tipped to the sun as their owners reclined on deck chairs outside the café.
The view as they were hoisted up in the cable car, and then the deck chairs at the top reminded her of some of the restaurants at the summits of the alpine lifts. Although the heat level and the apparel were different, the sense of peaceful relaxation displayed by the people reclining was the same.
‘So, now we’re up here, what do you want to do?’ Hugh said, resting both hands on the curve of his cane.
Amy pursed her lips. ‘I’m not sure.’
‘Often the way,’ Hugh said, raising an enigmatic eyebrow. Then he waved a hand at the deck chairs. ‘I’m not attempting one of those. I might never get up again, but I think I might find myself a cold drink and a more upright chair.’ He tapped at his messenger bag. ‘Brought a book with me. I’m happy to camp out here and enjoy the fresh air while you charge about being all young and zippy.’
Hugh headed for the restaurant.
‘Are you sure you don’t want me to keep you company?’ Amy said.
‘If you want to sit here with an old man when there’s a whole mountain to be explored, that’s fine by me. I thought you might take a walk, or something.’
‘I could, but…’
Hugh stopped, his shoes grinding against the granite chips underfoot. Lifting his cane, he pointed across the sea of deck chairs. ‘Isn’t that Tad over there?’
