It was the sight of Sarah in her knee-length white dress that stopped Matthew in his tracks.
She looked different with her hair pulled to one side, fastened with a clip. The dress, which cinched her in at the waist then fell, full to her knees, accentuated her figure in just the right places. Though it wasn’t her intention to be a showstopper – she never liked being the centre of attention – Matthew’s entire world paused for that moment.
He watched as she strode across the front courtyard, stopping at the ledge to look down over the property, spotting him by the pool. She gave him a wave and he feigned being shot by Cupid’s arrow. Sarah smiled and giggled and made her way down to meet him. As she walked, Matthew’s eyes never left her.
Eventually joining him, he took her hands into his, and held her back at arms-length to survey her. ‘So, this is what it would’ve been like to see you walk towards me in a white dress.’ He shook his head, basking in her effortless beauty.
‘Matthew . . .’ she breathed, suddenly self-conscious.
‘My efficiency rating for the remainder of the day just halved, you know.’ He reached behind her ear and tucked a few loose strands of hair into the clip. ‘You, Sarah, have stolen my breath.’ He drew her hands together so he could drop kisses to her skin.
‘You’re so lovely. Thank you.’
‘We don’t have time to . . . you know?’ His eyes twinkled and he gestured up to La Viola.
‘Definitely not,’ she laughed.
‘Was worth a try. I’m locking in a raincheck for tonight, in that case.’
The festival set off with a bang. The marked parking areas across the vast lawns either side of the driveway were already full by the advertised start time. The gentle bass of the music from the sound stage bounced across La Viola’s gardens and down over the valley.
The grounds were buzzing with people eating, drinking, laughing, chatting and milling about. Wafts of charcoal smoke, roasting garlic and herbs punctuated the breeze that moved from the food stall area on the first garden level. Wine was already flowing freely, and the sound of people enjoying themselves carried on through the day and into the night.
Later that evening, the MC, Piero – a rather full-bodied man in his forties with shoulder-length hair – invited the attendees to gather to hear the official opening of the Sagra dell’Umbria by Emanuela, on behalf of theregioneand the tourism board. Not only did Emanuela rain thanks onto Sarah and Matthew for their hosting of the event, but also for the idea of its inception, which she suggested had scope to be an annual festival for the Umbrian calendar. This was met with a raucous applause from the crowd, causing Matthew and Sarah to smile with pride. Emanuela went on to commend them for their hospitality, professionalism and dedication to Umbrian soil, its history and traditions.
Sarah and Matthew chose not to take to the stage. They smiled through the applause, deeply satisfied with the outcome, rather than the personal attention it brought. Piero took control of the crowd once more, introducing a folk-music group and inviting the festival-goers to dance the night away. The vast majority was more than happy to do so.
Through the crowd, Matthew spotted the flash of a familiar face, and he craned his neck to check again, wondering if his eyes had deceived him. Suddenly, as a young family stepped out of view, there he was: Alberto.
Their eyes locked and Matthew gave him a meek wave. Alberto returned with a nod of the head. Taking a cursory glance over both shoulders, Alberto gave a small clap before winking at Matthew, then turned away. As quickly as he had come into view, he had disappeared again.
‘Alberto’s here,’ Matthew whispered to Sarah, who immediately began scanning the crowd of faces.
‘Where?’
‘He was over there. Just disappeared. Don’t think he wants to be seen.’
‘Fair enough.’ Sarah nodded. ‘Needs to seem impartial, I guess.’
Both turned, about to move, but suddenly found Saverio stood in front of them.
‘Buonasera Signori,’ he said.
‘Here to enjoy the evening?’ Sarah asked. ‘Or are you here to serve us papers for noise violation?’
Saverio was on his best behaviour, aware of how public-facing the moment was. ‘Not at all. You have done a fantastic job here. The town has been buzzing all week in preparation for the . . . party?’
‘The Sagra dell’Umbria,’ Matthew corrected.
‘Whatever.’ His resolve was waning. ‘Do enjoy the short-lived attention. It won’t last long.’ He gave what could only be described as a leer through gritted teeth, then turned and left.
Sarah exhaled. ‘Every chance he gets, that guy.’
‘Don’t worry about him. He’s not our issue tonight. He’ll come for us in the next few days.’
‘With papers. And fines, I’m guessing.’
Matthew laughed. ‘I’d put money on it.’
