Malcolm lost track of the method a bit at this point, but there was a lot of rolling out of dough and measuring, then cutting out, discs of about 11cm diameter. Quite frankly, he was pleased someone else was doing the graft. Using the moulds, everyone had a go at cooking their cannoli. Chaos ensued. Tad sorted everyone out. There was a coffee break.
When the cannoli were cold, everyone dipped the ends of each one into melted chocolate, then into the chopped pistachios and left them to cool and harden. Then they beat the ricotta and mascarpone together, stirred in the candied peel and sugar, and spooned the mixture into piping bags. The next bit was the best bit – with a wide nozzle, everyone had a go at piping the mixture into the cannoli. It was bedlam again – and Clare (Tad’s friend not girlfriend – great hair… OK, maybe Malc does like women with short hair) ended up squirting most of her mixture all over the counter.
If you’re doing the eating: go for it asap – otherwise they go all soggy. Malcolm was more than willing to lend a hand in this department. However, credit where credit is due – he has no idea how Tad manages to keep his cool dealing with so many variables at the same time. Billie is enough of a variable all on her own, as far as Malcolm is concerned.
Billie + food preparation + other people + heated oil = a narrowly missed apocalypse, but a bloody tasty one…
20
‘If you’d told me, even a week ago, that I’d be walking the shore of Lake Garda hand in hand with someone, I’d have laughed,’ Tad said.
Amy felt his fingers tighten around her own and smiled. ‘Me too,’ she said.
‘You taking pity on me then, or something?’ he said, but his tone was light, highlighting his joke.
Amy laughed. ‘No, I mean I couldn’t have imagined this for myself, either.’
Her eyebrows furrowed as she took stock of her situation, tried not to think too hard about what was happening, instead tried to cling to the edges of her feelings. The sensible side of Amy was telling her not to get too invested, that there wasn’t any point allowing herself to slide too far into this – whatever ‘this’ was – that she should go with the flow and enjoy it for what it was. A moment in time.
The last thing she needed to do was to fall into the same trap as she had with Shaun. Then, she’d gone in with both feet, followed in short order by the rest of her, submerged and absolutely all in within days of meeting him. Sensible Amy told herself that had been her mistake, and only an idiot would make the same mistake again.
And yet, there was a niggling voice at the back of her mind suggesting that she was already all in with Tad. Regardless of what might be the sensible option. After all, they hadn’t dabbled around the edges of one another’s bodies the night before – never mind submerging, that had been deep-sea diving in comparison. It had also been one of the most enjoyable nights Amy had spent in, well… in forever.
The memory of it had parts of her body instantly warm, and she blew out a long breath as she tried to collect her thoughts. Tried to persuade herself that great sex wasn’t the same as falling in love with someone, that there was so much more to a proper relationship – and there was no way she was going to have the opportunity to find any of that out with Tad, not with the deadline on her stay at Casa del Cibo counting down louder than the chiming of the hour in the enormous tall clocktower they were walking past.
‘There’s a great gelato shop a bit further along here,’ Tad was saying, striding with purpose across the wide, cobbled pedestrianised area.
Amy tugged him to a stop. ‘Would you mind if we take a moment here,’ she said, keen to take in her surroundings. ‘This is sensational.’
‘Aye, of course. Is it terrible to say I think I’m getting used to this place?’ he said. ‘I don’t stop and stare like I did when I first arrived.’
‘Like I am, you mean?’ She grinned as she turned a complete circle. Down here by the lake the sun shimmered across the water – clear and an almost impossible shade of azure – while the view out across the lake was framed by mountains, lush green with fir trees on the lower slopes, giving way further up to rock and maybe even a hint of snow at their pinnacles. It was like something out of a fairy tale; wherever she looked was equally beautiful.
The view out across the lake was matched by the one in the opposite direction. Perfectly proportioned, beautiful old buildings sporting a pastel rainbow of colour lined this pedestrianised square. Almost every one of those buildings was fronted by tables and chairs of their ground-floor restaurants and cafés, linen tablecloths and discreet awnings an elegant foil to the colourful mishmash of the bright clothing of the people enjoying a coffee, or a dish of pasta, or simply resting for a moment.
‘Take all the time you need,’ he said.
It took Amy a moment to realise that even though the setting was incredible, using up all the superlatives she could think of, there was something even better about this place. It was as though the gravitas of the setting was having a direct effect on the people. When Hugh had mentioned the effect of the view out from Monte Baldo’s summit, how it went some way to rebalance a person’s equilibrium, she’d had a vague idea what he meant. But standing here, watching people getting on with their day, whether they lived, worked or were simply holidaying here, she felt an overwhelming sense of calm.
She frowned as she took it all in: local kids sitting on the low wall, chatting amiably and rapidly as they held rods, lines dangling expectantly into the water; cyclists pottering through the area with no intention of pedalling hard; tourists wandering; local suppliers walking to restaurants and cafés with boxes of fruit and vegetables held aloft. It was a million miles away from the sense of hustle and hype Amy was used to experiencing with Billie and yet there remained a vibrancy to the place it was hard to describe. Everyone retained a sense of purpose, even if they weren’t going at it like bulls in a china shop. It was refreshing, as though it was somewhere specifically designed to allow people to breathe.
‘I like it very much,’ she said. A totally inadequate sentence, and yet Tad seemed to understand. He nodded and smiled.
‘I know. It’s something, isn’t it?’
They began to walk again, crossing the remainder of the square, taking the path meandering past some mature trees set in pockets of planting, with comfortable-looking mesh benches situated to make the most of the shade. As they walked, a tourist paddle boat pulled away from the quay, slapping its way through the water as it carried its passengers out across the lake.
‘Not all of Riva is as picturesque as this,’ Tad was saying. ‘Obviously there are some less picture-perfect parts…’
‘Burst my bubble, why don’t you?’ she said.
Tad laughed, retaking her hand. ‘Don’t worry, they put up warning barriers so unwary tourists don’t stray there by accident and end up giving Riva a one-star review.’
‘And you’re joking again?’
‘Aye. But what I’m trying to say is that although this is a holiday destination, and the old town is stunning, it’s also a working town, you know? There are parts like this where it’s easy to get caught up with the magic of the place, but it still has to have all the mechanics of modern life.’
‘Are you saying don’t fall for its gorgeous exterior before you find out how it truly ticks?’ she said.
