‘Now you can have one of your very own.’
With her heart suddenly full of precious memories, she shook her head to clear the distractions. ‘Sorry. Lost myself in the moment.’
The man gave her a kind wave. ‘Family memories are the most important of all. Keep them close.’
Sarah turned on her heel and looked back across the store. ‘While we’re at it, what do you have in the way of solid footwear ready for months of tiresome labour? Oh, and I’ll be needing a hat, too.’
The man practically leaped from behind the counter. ‘I have just what you need.’
The last thing Matthew expected to see when he emerged from the supermarket was Sarah walking a bicycle across the piazza. He did a double-take.
‘You have your wheels, now I have mine.’ She kicked the stand in place. ‘This is Bianca.’
In the front basket, Matthew spotted a tired well-worn pair of steel-capped leather work boots and a floppy straw hat. ‘We have money to shop, Sarah. You don’t need to be buying things like this second-hand. These boots—’
‘—are already worn-in, happen to fit me – though I need to wear a thick pair of socks – and I’ve given them a second life. The hat was a bargain. And the bike? She was a present to myself.’
‘Let me repay you for all this, then.’ He went to take his wallet from his back pocket.
Sarah stopped him with a firm hand on the shoulder. ‘No. I don’t need handouts. Honestly.’
Matthew assessed the scene, feeling slightly deflated. ‘This year’s onme. That was the agreement.’
‘Andthiswas my choice. Now, wait here. Just got to grab the last few things.’ She quickly ducked back into the store and reappeared carrying a large cream-coloured Dutch oven, complete with lid and stainless-steel knob. Looped over her right forearm was a calico bag, from which a saucepan’s handle poked out. She gestured to the Dutch oven with her chin. ‘For the sourdough, stews, sauces . . . all sorted. And there’s a moka in here.’ She shook the calico bag as best she could without dropping everything. ‘Your daily coffee luxury is covered.’
Matthew’s eyes rolled with relief. ‘Thank you.’
It took a moment to rearrange it all, but with the bags hanging from Bianca’s handles, and with Matthew carrying the Dutch oven and the mop and broom, they made their way from the piazza, down the stairs and back to the car.
They agreed that no matter how they arranged and rearranged their purchases, Bianca simply wouldn’t fit, so Sarah insisted on riding her new bike home along the same windy road that brought them into Fiorellino.
Relishing the fresh air and rippling waves of lush Umbrian land, Sarah took her time on the return journey. Pulling off to the side of the road, she found a quaint little inlet which captured both Convento delle Viole and Fiorellino in the same view.
Just as she was lining up the horizon in the cross-hairs on her phone screen for a photo, a text message from Matthew appeared:You have a visitor.
otto
Sarah did not expect to find Matthew talking to an attractive brunette upon returning to Convento delle Viole. Having heard their chatter from the driveway, she parked her bicycle by the side entrance and peered around the edge of the building to catch a glimpse of her visitor.
Standing at little over five feet, the woman’s petite frame and delicate features were easily lost against the vast backdrop of the valley. She wore simple black pants and a burgundy chenille rollneck jumper and her hair – cut just below her ears, featuring a gentle wave – was pinned to the side with a mother of pearl clasp.
Sensing a lull in the conversation, Sarah thought it the appropriate moment to make her presence known. ‘Ciao,’ she announced, smiling as she crossed the courtyard.
‘Great timing!’ Matthew beamed. ‘Hun, this is Margherita. She’s here to seeyou.’
Margherita’s face lit up upon setting eyes on Sarah. ‘Sarah,piacere! It’s wonderful to meet you. I’m Margherita Innocenti, your Italian tutor. You can call me Marghe.’ She stood forward and kissed Sarah on both cheeks.
‘Lovely to meet you!’ Sarah exhaled a sigh of relief. Although Alberto had promised he would arrange language lessons for her, she hadn’t expected such a quick turnaround, let alone a private tutor.
‘Signor D’Adamo has been in touch and encouraged me to come visitil più presto possibile. Allora, eccomi. At your linguistic service.’ She looked expectantly between Matthew and Sarah and her enthusiasm suddenly drained, clearly sensing something was amiss.
Matthew and Sarah’s eyes locked and, as if reading each other’s minds, they simultaneously burst into laughter.
‘Tutto bene?’ Margherita asked, sounding concerned.
Sarah waved it off. ‘Margherita, everything’s fine. Please excuse us, we’ve just had a day. You know,a day? We don’t have a bed. We just came back from town with supplies. We have no idea what we’re in for tonight. It’s all a bit of a mess.’
‘No offence intended,’ Matthew added. ‘We’re all over the place right now.’
